binzfood
You are viewing stuff tagged with binzfood.
You are viewing stuff tagged with binzfood.
The hypothesis was as follows: the Binz Refectory would be crazy to keep desserts over the Thanksgiving break, so the desserts set out today should be fresh. Cautiously, I nudged the Rice Crispies bar with some plastic tongs, testing to see whether it would decay into a ball of rice sawdust, or if it was fresh enough that its mallow constitution would impart to it the structural integrity of silly putty. Thankfully (and rarely, at the Binz) the latter was the case. “Mykala!” I eagerly squeaked, “The Rice Crispies are edible!” I handed one to Mykala, carefully chose one for myself, and suddenly all was right in the world. In our eyes shone golden nuggets of a heavenly blend of cereal and marshmallows, renowned the world over for their symbiotic blend of disparate foodstuffs. Christmas music played merrily on the dining room soundsystem as we walked out of the building, cradling delicious nuggets of joy. Little did we know that our happiness was doomed to a transience of incredibly brief duration.
Nina works at the Binz Refectory, and has been there well beyond my four short years at St. Thomas. The thing that amazes me is her ability to stay cheerful, day in, day out, through all those years. I’ve stopped to get food from her in the balmy fall days of September, the early, dark, snowy mornings of February, and on springtime days looking forward to a summer change of pace. I am sure she’s been subect to belligerent students, dropped plates, and the monotony of a food service job … but she never seems unhappy.
I’d like to issue an apology to the rather frumpy student at the cafeteria who I made some incorrect assumptions about. I assumed that a rather unpleasant cocktail of body-odor type smells issuing from his general vicinity were due solely to his presence. However, I later found out that it was a unique combination of brocolli, cauliflower, vinaigrette, and (possibly moldy) bleu cheese dressing that were the source of the most unsavory and (un)surprisingly BO type smell.
Two days ago, I moved out of my home for the past three years: Cretin Hall, Room 500. I moved in to this unique room during the second month of my freshman year of college. After four weeks of rooming with someone I had absolutely nothing in common with, I finally cajoled residence life into giving me the key to the vacant single on the top floor of my 1890’s dorm.
Apparently some sort of spice was pulverized when the chicken was breaded a couple of nights ago, resulting in green chicken at the Binz Refectory. It was not a particularly bright green, but a rather sickly green - almost the color that people turn when they are very sick. We were assured by Mary (she is the sandwich lady, who is a very nice person — her son actually goes to school here) that the chicken was normal. This wasn’t anything remarkable, though it does merit note, especially given Food at the Binz’s remarkably long silence.
Bad things have happened at the Binz before, but recently my old standby has taken a beating. That is to say, I generally eat cereal if there is nothing else good to eat at the Binz. However, management at this fine cafeteria has left the same cereal in bins for the entire summer. Do you understand that? The entire summer. That means that, yes, the Apple Jacks I usually eat are not crunchy. They taste dusty. And when you bite them, they are chewy. CHEWY APPLE JACKS ARE NOT TASTY.
Oh Binz Refectory, sometimes you manage to amaze me. Despite my previous extremely poor food experiences (you may recall the cooking fluid in my fried rice last year), something has been going dreadfully right at my local cafeteria these days. Indeed, today I had exactly three minutes to run in and try to find something to eat. My arms were full with end of term projects, and I thought to myself as I ran to the building, “It sure would be nice if they had something good to eat, preferably something that could be held with one hand. Otherwise I’m going to be stuck with one of those Red Delicious Week-Old apples they always have.”
Some days you just have to change it up a little bit. You see, no cafeteria can supply edible food every day, and the Binz Refectory at the University of St. Thomas is no exception. I believe it was some sort of quesadilla that was being served (beef or cheese, please), and they were so flat they looked like somebody took a rolling pin to them before serving. Not that that is a bad thing - taste trumps appearance any day - but goodness, I simply had to say ‘no’ to grease-soaked tortilla, ‘no’ to the desserts (which develop a hard outer casing after a few days of being set out each dining period), and ‘no’ to everything else … except one thing.
Yes, Food at the Binz has taken a very very long hiatus from regularly scheduled viewing, I hope to bring it back with this special edition. In fact, this edition is so special that we feature food not from the Binz Refectory, but from the North Campus Cafeteria. Anyhow, I learned it was theme night for eating there, and that the theme was “Cabin Fever Reliever.” Markoe speculated that we would eat bamboo shoots, which we all concluded would be high in fiber and good overall.
It was a landmark day today. The Binz Refectory offered two distinct and separate dishes that were both worth eating. Upon seeing the two gloriously appetizing choices, I dropped to my knees and mouthed words of thanks to some god smiling upon me. I cursed my stomach for failing to be hungrier, but still enjoyed a fantastic dinner. I feel it is my obligation, in my continuing quest to accurately portray the Binz, to show you a less sinister side of college food. Indeed, you do not always have to eat food that just takes up space in your stomach and gives it something to do. Nay, good friends, sometimes you can find yourself enjoying eating. Furthermore, last night brought with it warm cookies. Yes, no hardened frosting on old cake but warm, oven-fresh, gooey, delectable cookies; delivered with a smile by Erin and Mara.
There they were, just chilling on my potatoes, like everything was normal. Sure, they looked and smelled like pine needles. I knew they couldn’t be though - that would be too exotic and expensive. Investigation proved that they were Rosemary. On potatoes. “It’s supposed to go on meat,” I wanted to scream, but restrained myself, sullenly scraping the offending weirdness from my otherwise normal dish. “I suppose this isn’t bad enough to count for part 2,” I muttered under my breath as I looked around for something with which to cleanse my mouth. That’s great: offending food that’s just bad enough to make a boring story. I shoved the spuds aside and made myself a white bread and American cheese sandwhich. Yum, processed goodness.
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.