The saying “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone” has to have been written about dining hall food.
If you live in the dorms, when you are hungry you walk down to the dining hall of your choice, go through the lines, view the wide variety and get as much food and drink as you want. At the end of your meal, you put your tray on a conveyor system and continue on your merry way.
Never in my life did I think I would consider this scenario the “high life.”
I used to think valuable advice for freshmen was to go to class even if it’s snowing and 8:00 a.m. I was mistaken. The better advice is to treasure the moments of the dining hall.
When hunger strikes in the life of an apartment dweller, the solution has to be premeditated. Hundreds of food options don’t just appear unless you have gone to the store and purchased them with your massive amount of money. You must settle on what you can afford and what is in your cabinets.
Instead of having a 10-minute walk to prepared food, it might take you half an hour to prepare it. Finally, when you are done making your meal, not only do you have to wash the plate and fork used, but the pot, the measuring cups and the stirring spoon.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m no stranger to the kitchen.
As the oldest sibling, I have done dishes on a number of occasions. I’ve made my fair share of Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese, I know how to make ramen noodles on the stove and I can make a mean Stouffer’s lasagna. However, I’m still working on preparing an actual semi-nutritional meal — let alone three — on a daily basis.
After ordering a pizza one night and eating a sandwich the next, I decided it was time for a somewhat real meal for dinner. My meal of choice was the ever so easy and cheap Tuna Helper. While it may not be as fancy as the popular Hamburger Helper, it would have to do.
For those who don’t know what Tuna and Hamburger Helper are, it’s boxed pasta that you boil and add either tuna or hamburger. It’s delicious and will most likely be my lunch and dinner for days at a time.
Lacking the medium-size skillet recommended by the directions on the back on the box, I decided a small pot was my next-best option. I measured out the milk, butter and water, dumped it in and waited for it to boil. Once it boiled, I turned down the stove and placed aluminum foil over the pot and got ready to wait the allotted 12 minutes.
The second the Tuna Helper was covered and the heat was turned down, the pot started bubbling and spilling all over the stove, making sizzling noises and a giant mess. After running around the kitchen trying to remember which drawer the wooden spoons were in, I placed a spoon on top of the foil and waited for everything to settle down.
I read about the “wooden spoon over a boiling pot trick” once before and I’m quite thankful my brain chose to remember that random fact.
After the time was up and the stove was off, I was ready to eat. I gave it a minute or so to cool down and grabbed my fork. Then I realized I forgot something — the tuna.
Apartment cooking is going to be one crazy adventure.
Mesha Baylis is a senior studying journalism at Ohio University and a novice cook. Do you set things on fire trying to pour milk on cereal?
Email her at mb345109@ohiou.edu.
