Coming from a high school where the dining hall disasters ranged from soggy, memory-foam-like tofu to sandwiches with the bread so stale we couldn’t even feed it to the ducks on the pond, my first visit to the Dickinson Caf was like going to a 5-star restaurant. Smoothies and ice cream and cereal, oh my! My first few weeks were really #DiningStrong.

Over time, however, as my taste buds forgot the food of the past and I can’t help but focus on the flavors of the present, I realize I may have eaten more with my eyes than anything else. I may have judged the caf creations prematurely, as looks can be deceiving, but tastes aren’t.

1. The first thing you see walking in to the Caf is the “Greenery” signs. Well I’m sure this section is delicious enough to warrant two identical counters, but I wouldn’t know since I cannot remember the last time I had a salad. Besides, while I love that they bring in food from the college farm, there have been insects found in the leafy greens, and I don’t want to have to use bug spray as my salad dressing.

2. Sharing a counter with the salad section, my favorite stop: the desserts. If only I knew what would be there before I walked into the Caf to know if it was worth my 2, 3, or 5 points respectively, or if those hard earned Flex points would be better swiped elsewhere. I compromised my storage space and downloaded the Dickinson app with the daily menu and everything, but alas, the dessert bar is always a surprise in the moment, leaving me to wonder: What will they name the slightly yellow, kind of frosted, round-ish, identical-to-yesterday cake today? Is it just me, or does the ‘tiara cake’ and ‘yummy cake’ share a lot more than just the second half of their misnomers? Seriously, do they just put the food labels in a bag, pick one out, and randomly assign it to a tray? And I’ll put in a plug for my friends who live #PlantBasedLifestyles, where are the vegan desserts?

3. I’m starting a new line here to make sure y’all are still with me, but, um, the fruit desserts? Whose idea? The blueberry cobbler is just a blue-goop filled crumb cake. In the words of one of my friends, “what I would give for some fresh berries!”

4. Between the dessert bar and the greenery (aka the opposite of the desserts bar), you can find gelatin cubes that have gone untouched by Dickinsonians for generations, cottage cheese (or what I like to call: blech), and yogurt, because, yogurt. I’m just going to move on from this mini bar of coagulated dairies and friends because you get the point (even though I don’t get the point of having this, when it’s space that could be used for, you guessed it, vegan desserts!).

5. It’s not all bad, though, the soda machine does good things. The cereal bar is a caf staple and one of my main food groups, the croissants are a flaky, fun time, and the KOVE has

festive music to make up for the sometimes flavorless food (ahem, the vegan burger options that all taste the same yet somehow are called different things that taste like sand held together by cement)

6. The ice cream is a an ice dream and the fro-yo is what sustains me (the only food pyramid I adhere to is the triangular shaped ice cream cone). Just an itty bitty MAJOR complaint: why are there ice cream toppings at dinner, but not at lunch?? And why in the name of Margee Ensign is there only vanilla frozen yogurt at lunch on Milkshake Mondays? How is a girl supposed to swirl at lunch on Mondays? But this is a pretty minor complaint, because again, think of the vegans and their dessert desert.

7. This leaves us to the grill and entree and may I just, no. Breakfast at the grill? Yes (because it’s the only place where eggs come from within their shells, not from bags). Any other meal at the grill? Keep walking. Just once, can I have my pasta cooked al dente and served without meat? And as for the entree line, I am forever amazed as to how many ways the caf manages to make potatoes. Sometimes, like TLC said, I don’t want no spud, ya know. It’s not always the worst. Sometimes they have alfredo sauce. And there’s always plenty of salt to add taste to caf food or mask the tastes that are already there.

I definitely complain more about the food here than I should. It sustains me and entertains me, and for the most part, I can always find something to feed my college appetite. I give props to the students who work in the Caf, because sheesh, and I have come to appreciate many of the dining services employees who manage to have a smile on their face while serving who knows what to many an entitled teenager. Then again, there is something to be said for buying packaged food from the D-Den or getting fresh squeezed fresh(?) fruit from the Underground and taking advantage of someone else mixing in your toppings for you when it’s Milkshake Monday.