The Great Feast of the Student Cafeteria

o and behold! After a most arduous day of scholarly pursuits within the grand halls of this esteemed institution, I found myself afflicted by the most dreadful of mortal afflictions—hunger. With no grand banquet awaiting me in the castle, I was forced to seek sustenance among the common folk. Thus, by mere happenstance (or perhaps divine providence), I stumbled upon a curious establishment known as the “cafeteria.”

Upon entering this hall of nourishment, my noble eyes widened in sheer astonishment at the vast array of offerings. Before me lay breads stuffed with curious combinations of meats, cheeses, and garden-grown delights. Yet, to my dismay, the portions of meat were so meager that I began to wonder if this land suffers from a famine most dire. A station of greens also presented itself, where scholars may craft their own mixtures. An act most befitting of livestock rather than lords, yet I confess, it was surprisingly pleasant to the palate. However, the method of payment was an affront to all reason. A most fearsome enchanted scale weighed my humble selection, and an invisible hand of fate decreed its cost! Surely, such sorcery should be outlawed!

Further exploration led me to warmer fare—a curious round bread, bathed in red sauce and melted cheese, an intriguing peasant delicacy, though suspiciously lacking in grandeur. What truly astounded me, however, was the need to consume it with one’s hands—what savagery! There was also pasta, accompanied by yet more red sauce and bits of meat, as well as flavored rice and hearty soups. Ah, the soups! These humble broths, though simple, warmed the spirit most delightfully. And yet, a mystery remains: how, pray tell, do they remain hot without flame or cauldron? What manner of sorcery is at work in this land?

Though my noble sensibilities balk at the crude nature of this feast, I must admit the experience was most intriguing. I shall return, if only to further uncover the mysteries of this peculiar student dining hall.

Sara Cattaneo