Coming to college traditionally means two things: cramped dorms and less-than-edible food. For incoming freshmen, Penn attempts to make the transition to college life just a bit easier by burdening students with a seemingly massive meal plan. While we listen to our friends at Cornell rave about the flavor and variety of options, we resign ourselves to whichever all-you-can-eat location is closest to our dorm (and wonder where the Freshman 15 comes from). At first, the diversity of food and locations seems fairly accommodating to even the most demanding of eaters: international delicacies at Houston Market and three dining halls equipped with salad bars and fro-yo machines - what more could one ask for? But once freshman year ends and the inevitable eviction from the Quad or escape from Hill occurs, the once-convenient dining halls start to look like the freshman-infested rip-offs they really are, and we relish the opportunity to expand our horizons.
But what do we have to look forward to? We once dreamed of replacing Hill brunch with Philly Diner and Commons' wraps with Izzy and Zoey's deli-style fare. Decreasing or eliminating our meal plans in favor of dining freedom temporarily satisfies our palates. Eventually, however, our off-campus eatery habit becomes (for most of us) more than mommy and daddy are willing to fund.
For a small group of students, moving on entails bigger and better things - lunch at Pod, weekend jaunts to El Vez and Continental, Gia salads three times a day - but most of us can't afford that lifestyle. Penn becomes segregated by the size of our wallets and the pickiness of our palates. Remember that girl you used to bump into at Houston freshman year? You'll probably never see her again, unless you too are alternating your lunch breaks between White Dog and Pod. Those of us with empty wallets and thin lines of credit instead turn to our friendly neighborhood Fresh Grocer. Excluded from the other eating options, it's time to buy some groceries and learn how to cook. Cheaper, healthier and more fun, cooking is probably the best option to begin with anyway. Plus, wouldn't mommy and daddy be proud to know that their children can actually budget by saving money on food?
But don't get too excited. Sadly, Fresh Grocer leaves much to be desired. Upon entering, a colorful cornucopia of bruised mutant fruit greets eager shoppers. If that doesn't deter you, continue shopping and you may leave empty-handed. Fresh Grocer conveniently does not carry anything on your shopping list. Good luck!
As hungry freshmen, we lament Penn's attempt to ease our transition to the real world with forced and excessive meal plans. But there's something to be said for a culture where everybody eats in the same crappy dining hall. Instead, once the reins of Penn Dining are loosened, students splatter like an edible Jackson Pollack. Penn's lack of a singular dining hall culture facilitates a division between students. Those who can afford it explore all the fine dining Philly has to offer, while the rest of us are forced to rely on bursar, PennCash and the Gross Grocer. So if you're looking for me, you'll be more likely to find me upstairs at Commons than behind the broad windows of Gia or the tinted fishbowl ones at Pod. Besides, I'm hungry, and you really can't go wrong with an all-you-can-eat buffet.
