Tawanka And The Vegetarian
Such was the title of the bitchy "editorial" in the Daily Fourth Gradian or its equivalent, the precocious little tabloid published by the Satori campers. I know they're just kids, and smart ones, but whoever wrote this self-serving vocabulary exposition needs to learn a thing or six.
The Chef Responds
1) This is a college dining hall on our best day. This is a summer camp at EWU, not a Tuscan spa, and you are a child, not a Borgia prince. It is not Lutèce, though you wouldn't be happy with the food there, either. (You were so squicked by the breastbone in your chicken that I can't imagine you eating sweetbreads or bone marrow or lamb kidneys, or sea cucumber or oysters or uni or any such thing else, given your childish palate and histrionic proclivity. See? I have a vocabulary, too.) You will likely go to a better school than this one. I hope you can cope with their food (and pay their fees). In the meantime, my special snowflake, how about a little noblesse oblige for the less gifted and their domestics?
2) We run groups of 900 through here with one -- ONE -- special diet request. Your group of 190? More than 40 separate special diets, very few of which are medically necessary. Correlation may not imply causation, but puh-lease. Most of what people submit to chefs falls under the "preferences" category, despite dire warnings. Yes, there are people who will fall over dead if they eat something that touched something that once touched a green pepper, and most of them have the good sense to eat at home or bring their own food. If some of you were as sensitive to some things as you claim to be, you couldn't even come into my dining room.
3) I will accommodate your special diet requests insofar as possible within my menu and my budget, both of which are driven by how much you pay for this experience. Give me 15 bucks a meal and you'll think you're at Greens.
4) What in the world did you mean, saying that vegetarians have to eat fresh fruit and raw vegetables and fresh, house-made salads and hope for something better? That is about as good as it gets for people who don't eat meat. And damn you, the food IS better than it was last year. I made sure of it. And still, this group generates the most complaints of any -- not just per capita but overall -- any summer camp at Eastern. (Yes, more than 500 cheerleaders. More than 900 football players. Think about it.) When I think of all the time I have spent defending you guys to my crew, fighting for years to lead a culinary class for you... it makes me sick at heart. You have no idea how hard we work to feed you safe, wholesome, and agreeable food. Sometimes I think you just love to complain. After all, you wrote an editorial about the food at camp after ONE meal. Tonight's dinner featured, let's see, thirteen meatless dishes including vegan and gluten-free choices and, oh yeah, ONE chicken dish, and since it was boneless, deep-fried, and covered with a sweet sauce, I bet you ate it up.
5) Why are you speaking for vegetarians, anyway, when you hated your roast chicken so much? I'm fed up with vegetarians who eat fish and vegans who eat honey and wear pearls. Let's define some terms here: No vegetarian or vegan eats any kind of flesh. At all. Lacto-ovo vegetarians consume dairy and eggs. Strict vegetarians do not eat milk products or eggs. Vegans, further, do not eat or use any animal products (yeast, honey, gelatin, cochineal red dye, and on and on) or wear leather or horn or pearls. Beyond that are other food preferences, and then food allergies or intolerances.
6) Speaking of my dining room: while I appreciate metonymy as much as the next guy, Tawanka Commons is the building in which I work. My restaurant is called Main Street Dining. If you're claiming to be a journalist, you need a better fact checker. You conveniently failed to notice the $100,000 worth of renovations and improvements to the room, its furnishings, and my equipment since you were here last year, but since you can't get the name right (which is literally up in neon in five places in the room), I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
Ever seen Waiting? Here it is, in words of one syllable: Don't piss off those who cook your food.
Enjoy the rest of your privileged summer. You cannot imagine how we look forward to your return, my lords. (Yes, I have been required, for the last three years, to address you thus. How much fun do you think a medieval banquet was for the serfs?)
The Chef Responds
1) This is a college dining hall on our best day. This is a summer camp at EWU, not a Tuscan spa, and you are a child, not a Borgia prince. It is not Lutèce, though you wouldn't be happy with the food there, either. (You were so squicked by the breastbone in your chicken that I can't imagine you eating sweetbreads or bone marrow or lamb kidneys, or sea cucumber or oysters or uni or any such thing else, given your childish palate and histrionic proclivity. See? I have a vocabulary, too.) You will likely go to a better school than this one. I hope you can cope with their food (and pay their fees). In the meantime, my special snowflake, how about a little noblesse oblige for the less gifted and their domestics?
2) We run groups of 900 through here with one -- ONE -- special diet request. Your group of 190? More than 40 separate special diets, very few of which are medically necessary. Correlation may not imply causation, but puh-lease. Most of what people submit to chefs falls under the "preferences" category, despite dire warnings. Yes, there are people who will fall over dead if they eat something that touched something that once touched a green pepper, and most of them have the good sense to eat at home or bring their own food. If some of you were as sensitive to some things as you claim to be, you couldn't even come into my dining room.
3) I will accommodate your special diet requests insofar as possible within my menu and my budget, both of which are driven by how much you pay for this experience. Give me 15 bucks a meal and you'll think you're at Greens.
4) What in the world did you mean, saying that vegetarians have to eat fresh fruit and raw vegetables and fresh, house-made salads and hope for something better? That is about as good as it gets for people who don't eat meat. And damn you, the food IS better than it was last year. I made sure of it. And still, this group generates the most complaints of any -- not just per capita but overall -- any summer camp at Eastern. (Yes, more than 500 cheerleaders. More than 900 football players. Think about it.) When I think of all the time I have spent defending you guys to my crew, fighting for years to lead a culinary class for you... it makes me sick at heart. You have no idea how hard we work to feed you safe, wholesome, and agreeable food. Sometimes I think you just love to complain. After all, you wrote an editorial about the food at camp after ONE meal. Tonight's dinner featured, let's see, thirteen meatless dishes including vegan and gluten-free choices and, oh yeah, ONE chicken dish, and since it was boneless, deep-fried, and covered with a sweet sauce, I bet you ate it up.
5) Why are you speaking for vegetarians, anyway, when you hated your roast chicken so much? I'm fed up with vegetarians who eat fish and vegans who eat honey and wear pearls. Let's define some terms here: No vegetarian or vegan eats any kind of flesh. At all. Lacto-ovo vegetarians consume dairy and eggs. Strict vegetarians do not eat milk products or eggs. Vegans, further, do not eat or use any animal products (yeast, honey, gelatin, cochineal red dye, and on and on) or wear leather or horn or pearls. Beyond that are other food preferences, and then food allergies or intolerances.
6) Speaking of my dining room: while I appreciate metonymy as much as the next guy, Tawanka Commons is the building in which I work. My restaurant is called Main Street Dining. If you're claiming to be a journalist, you need a better fact checker. You conveniently failed to notice the $100,000 worth of renovations and improvements to the room, its furnishings, and my equipment since you were here last year, but since you can't get the name right (which is literally up in neon in five places in the room), I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
Ever seen Waiting? Here it is, in words of one syllable: Don't piss off those who cook your food.
Enjoy the rest of your privileged summer. You cannot imagine how we look forward to your return, my lords. (Yes, I have been required, for the last three years, to address you thus. How much fun do you think a medieval banquet was for the serfs?)