Dude, Where's My Pita Chips?

By Emily Gasser | Mental Mastication

“Have you given your colon a good workout lately?” Recent bathroom experiences aren’t usually what I want to be thinking about at dinner, but anyone at the Sharples Nutrition and Wellness dinner was faced with that question, printed on hard-to-ignore neon orange placards on each table. Unappetizing slogans aside, I was pretty pleased by the Wellness dinner. The food was better than usual (miso soup!), the bananas were organic, and they were handing out pita chips. What more could you ask for?

Some follow-up, perhaps. Sharples is many things, but I have never before seen it be such a tease. Okay, so we got a new trans-fat-free popcorn machine, whoop-dee-doo. Will I ever see that miso soup again, or the trail mix? Doubtful. I daren’t even hope for those pita chips. I admire that Dining Services is making the effort to introduce more organic and healthy items. But please, don’t preach at us about the benefits of fiber and low-fat protein, taunt us with organic bliss potatoes, and then serve us pizza bar the next day. And how about some helpful tips on those bright-orange placards? “Avoid caffeine beyond morning.” Yeah sure. “Avoid sugary and deep fried foods.” And what’s on the menu for today? Wing bar, cupcakes, and fried yucca. Lets face it, most of us don’t have the fortitude to skip the wings and put together a salad; we’ll eat what you put in front of us, no matter what our rational minds know about the connection between a daily cheese steak and the freshman fifteen. The angle sitting on my right shoulder may say spinach, but the devil on my left shoulder is yelling curly fries, and it’s gonna win every time. I’m not saying Sharples should close down the grill and give us Caesar salad bar every day; I fully support the inalienable right to cheeseburger whenever you feel like it (and I hate Caesar salad). But please, make life a little easier for those of us who want to go easy on the arteries. I’ll feel much better about my bowl of mac ‘n’ cheese if I know at least that the cheese is organic. And some pita chips wouldn’t hurt either.

There’s one feature of the wellness dinner I know I will be seeing more of, and I’m not happy about it. Anyone tried to get a cup of tea lately? Where there used to be a rack of teabags, there’s now three kinds of pre-brewed Cynthia’s Premium Tea. Sounds good, right? Have you tasted the stuff? The wellness dinner featured a fountain of their Citrus Fusion Herbal Blend, and I’m being generous when I describe it as tasting like warm, pink, slightly sweet water, with a hint of middle-school girl perfume. I’ve sampled two of the three other options, and they’re uniformly cloyingly sweet, pitifully week, and unpleasantly fruity. Want a nice astringent cup of green tea? You’re stuck with Green Passion Fruit, which would taste like something out of a Bath and Body Works sampler pack if it were strong enough to have any flavor at all. Looking for some Earl Grey? Peppermint? Chamomile? Tough luck, go to Tarble. The lovely little flyer they handed out near the tea fountain claims that tea may decrease the incidence of cancer, heart disease, tooth decay, and allergies, among other things, but I won’t be reaping any of those health benefits if the tea is undrinkable. I was, until last Wednesday, a two-cups-a-day devotee, fueled by Sharples green and Darjeeling. Since then, faced by the rapid dwindling of my points account at the coffee bars, I’m down to two cups a week. Thank you, Sharples, for breaking me of my caffeine addiction.

There’s a valuable lesson to be learned from this: Just because something is labeled “premium” doesn’t mean it’s any good. Alright, lesson learned, let’s move on, back to bagged tea. Pros: There’s a wider choice of flavors. I can brew mine dark as hell and you can keep it mild and we’re both happy, none of this communal pot stuff. There’s no need for the big “DO NOT TOUCH” signs by the percolators. Cons: People take teabags home with them, which costs Dining Services some extra money. But does that really cost more than buying hand-plucked premium tea? C’mon, Sharples, give us individualists a break and bring back the bags. And all the money you’ll save? Spend it on pita chips.

Published version: http://phoenix.swarthmore.edu/2007-03-29/living/17117