In places like Louisiana where food is a religion, I sorely regret my personal shortcomings in the culinary arts.
But living among international students who know how to brown beef, simmer sauces and roast vegetables has made me realize my early years at LSU didn’t give me much reason to learn.
Underclassmen in residence halls are required to buy meal plans that only offer prepared food, and University convenience stores don’t have the tools or fresh ingredients to support student creativity or even competence in the kitchen.
Since my first evenings on campus in The Pentagon to my latest adventures in Uilenstede 6 (my residence in Amsterdam), my dinners at home can be described as simple, childish and occasionally inedible. But I’ve never been so ashamed of my peanut butter sandwiches, scrambled eggs and boxed cereals as I have in these past weeks living in Amsterdam.
Walking into the shared kitchen on any given night, I’m rewarded with the smells of freshly crushed garlic, chopped onions and sizzling olive oil. Baked potatoes, meatballs, chicken wings and casseroles constantly camp on the eight-stove burners and in the small toaster oven.
My friend walked into her kitchen the other day to find shells and remnants of cooked mussels.
Though my burned grilled cheeses and soggy ramen noodles have been the subject of much self-deprecating humor, I didn’t actually feel self-conscious of my culinary incompetence when my peers were displaying similarly mediocre results.
Thinking back to my freshman year at LSU, I can’t recall anyone preparing a single non-microwavable meal in Jackson Hall. A handful of Italian exchange students were often the only chefs in the Kirby-Smith kitchen during my second year on campus.
Is it the shared atmosphere that intimidates the University’s young, would-be cooks from utilizing kitchens in residence halls? Could it be the way that many students find solace in studying when they should be sautéing? Is it the inconvenience of toting armloads of ingredients, pans, spoons and seasonings from one place to another?
While these hassles don’t help, there are other factors contributing to the disparity in the culinary culture of students living on the University campus and the international students I live with in Amsterdam.
With the required meal swipes and Paw Points in pocket, why should first- and second-year students living in University residence halls spend extra money on groceries and extra time on food preparation?
The luxury of having food ready-made can lead to a lack of cooking experience and confidence after a student moves off campus. I realized this when I moved to an apartment with a kitchen I shared with one other person.
I didn’t use it. I continued to “cook” and eat as I had in the two years past. I can make bacon in a toaster and cookies in a microwave, but I haven’t developed any skills.
I replaced dining hall meals with restaurant food, a bad habit and an expensive alternative for a struggling college student like me who picks the mold off bread and makes instant pudding when the milk spoils.
University dining halls should offer more cook-it-yourself options. While the waffle-maker and salad bar are almost a good start, let’s give students some real tools to fend for themselves and develop creativity in the kitchen.
Take 5 and Outtakes should offer more fresh groceries for Paw Point spenders. We’ve all gone starry-eyed at the stacks of pizza Lunchables and the endless potato chip options, but students need better access to real food and real ingredients.
The closest grocery store to campus is the Walmart Neighborhood Market on Highland Road, about 1.5 miles away. This sounds like nothing until you hear that my nearest grocery store is 0.3 miles away. The walkable distance makes a difference after dark or for a last-minute ingredient.
A closer store means more frequent trips for less food at a time, erasing the need for one person to carry 15 grocery bags up two flights of stairs every month.
To study abroad, I paid for a University meal plan, but there are no dining halls where I live. The money comes back to me through a Dutch bank account, and I am free to spend it however I like.
Though I don’t have the convenience of dining halls or Quizno’s subs, I can spend my food money on the groceries I would be buying anyway. And hopefully someone here will teach me how to trim fat from chicken or correctly season soup, lest my Pop-Tarts suffer more judgemental glances.
Morgan Searles is a 21-year-old mass communication senior from Baton Rouge studying abroad in Amsterdam.