Food at the Binz (Part 1 in a Series)
I am not a picky eater. I never have been. Eating at a college cafeteria, however, has brought about the realization that critically analyzing one’s food prior to consumption can be a good thing. In fact, I have come to realize this analysis can save a person from eating what they would not.
I usually eat dinner late. Ten minutes before the cafeteria is set to close you will find me running to get there in time. I like eating late. The workers at the Binz Refectory, on the other hand, do not enjoy staying later than they have to. For this reason, they begin cleaning up before the 6:30pm weeknight closing time. Upon my arrival, I am given a heaping plate of whatever is left. Friday night was no different as I executed my habitual scramble and received my usual plate of steaming grub. “Hey, it’s calories,” I thought, as I walked to sit down.
So, I began eating my big steaming plate of rice fried in peanut oil. One of the better offerings. Suddenly, an outrageous spice flavor filled my entire mouth. Guessing a pepper of some type, I took a swig of milk to calm the burning. Nothing. Hmm. A chew and a swallow later, the strange flavor was nearly gone. Mystery herb? Bad rice? I did not worry about it and returned to reading my Java and consuming my calories. A few minutes later I scooped a particularly sticky chunk into my mouth and suddenly regretted my action. A powerful tingling began on the tip of my tongue and spread throughout my entire mouth, overpowering whatever rice flavor there was and screaming “Victory!” over my taste buds. As the woman who served me walked by, I tried to be polite. However, swallowing this was simply not an option. My eyes bulged out of my head as I tried to decide what to do. A nearby napkin provided the solution which elicited the question, “You chokin’ or something?” “Nope, I’m fine,” I replied weakly as my tongue’s nerves beat my brain senseless with burning signals.
Suddenly, I had lost my appetite.
Somehow, though, the flavor was familiar. I mentally flipped through recent experience. Ahh. That’s it. When employees of the Binz are cleaning up, they use a bluish industrial cleaning fluid to disinfect the metal surfaces over which the food passes. The overspray of said chemical thoroughly soaked my food and, from there, journeyed into my mouth. What an absurd thing to end up eating, I thought, as I tried to get my tongue to stop tingling a half an hour later. In the future, if I ever get the slightest hint of a flavor in my food that should not be there, I will make a beeline for the trash can and head home to enjoy some oatmeal.
They say bland is the new flavorful.