On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, my husband and I have lunch together, usually in the university cafeteria. The food's not bad.I like fried chicken Fridays a lot and they have great Parmesan Peppercorn dressing on the salad bar. I've never minded eating in a cafeteria, as there are usually several decent dishes to choose from. When I was in college, however, I caught the cafeteria blues somewhere around the end of my freshman year. You see, our cafeteria wasn't that great. They offered a lot of fish (the smell alone would drive you out the door) and creamy things (I'm lactose intolerant), so I usually ate in the food court or at Chick-Fil-A. Our food court offered things like pizza, baked potatoes, Mexican food and burgers, but they also had a spot called "Mom's Kitchen" which boasted home cooking. In all honesty, Mom's Kitchen usually featured something they had done with yesterday's cafeteria leftovers. (Meaning NOT APPETIZING!) My sophomore year, they opened the PHD cafe (Pro-Health Dining) upstairs in the student center, and I ate there on Thursdays because they served spinach lasagna. Otherwise, it was usually Chick-Fil-A for me.
I rarely ate in the student center on Saturday evenings, mostly because I had pressing social engagements to get to. I usually swung by Sonic or McDonald's or went out to eat with friends.
SIDEBAR: The only places to "go out" in Ruston, Louisiana at that time were Shoney's, Huddle House, Ryan's Steakhouse and Pizza Hut. By about your third week in town, you were completely and totally sick of all of those options.
Anywho, one particular Saturday night, we didn't have reherasal, a work call in the theatre or a party to attend. Faced with *gasp!* free time, my friend Kimberly and I decided to grab dinner in the caf, then head over to the Lady Techsters game. I figured I'd end up getting a made-to-order pizza, since we had some time to kill, but I decided to stroll by Mom's Kitchen to see what scrumptious delicacy they were offering that evening. I didn't think anything could be nastier than their version of beef stroganoff, which looked like they took 3 year old egg noodles and poured half and half over them, but I was mistaken. There in the little silver serving bin, floating in about 4 inches of grease were the most charred pieces of meat I have ever seen. They looked like hockey pucks. I had to know what they were. I asked the server "What IS that?" and she pointed to a makeshift sign (translation: A napkin taped to the glass and scribbled on with a sharpie) that read:
And then I went to Chick-Fil-A.