A bowl of soup at South Campus Diner.
Shunned to the end of salad bars and forgotten by much of the student population, the most underrated dining hall food item sits in giant vats, waiting to be eaten.
The dining hall soup is a dark knight, a forgotten gem and a warm friend. It is ever-changing and constantly steaming, ready to improve anyone’s day.
If the university’s dining halls had an equivalent of the Oscars, the soup would be snubbed and left sitting at home to watch, while the buffalo chicken wrap and the stir-fry (the Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson of the food community) won everything.
Including garden vegetable, Maryland crab, chicken and cheese enchilada, cream of asparagus, chicken noodle, minestrone, cream of broccoli and a variety I once encountered labeled “homemade roasted beef” with a piece of paper taped to the glass, all of the soups present a world of possibilities.
Dining hall soup can keep you warm during this state’s coldest months. As soon as the grits and oatmeal are hauled away, the soup is poured in and left to simmer. The physics behind how the soup stays warm for so long, even when outside the confines of the heated vat, continue to amaze me.
The station the soup resides in is charming because it is neither clean nor convenient. The comically large and barely functional ladles ensure that more soup ends up on the counter and all over your hands than in your bowl. But the saltine crackers in their giant basket are always there, ready to be taken in handfuls.
I have remained a loyal supporter of dining hall soup even though it probably spends the majority of its life frozen in a plastic bag. I know its sodium levels are most likely absurdly high and its vegetables have been processed so much they don’t contain a single nutrient. I know the soup has been sitting dormant in the same place all day. I am aware of all of this, yet I keep coming back. I accept the dining hall soup’s flaws and continue to eat it. Some might call this ignorant and unhealthy; I call it love.
The soup can stand alone as its own meal, but it’s docile enough to complement any sandwich or salad. It is humble and unassuming yet marvelous, much like a hardworking honeybee or a well-crafted wooden chair.
The dining hall soup will always be there (as long as it’s not breakfast or late-night hours) and will always warm our hearts and lift our spirits. It might not be fresh or gourmet, but if you need something dependable and warm, dining hall soup is always the answer.
