Remember the a la Mode

Five gleaming stainless steel fifty gallon vats bubble soup and stewing tongues; rows of spotless oak cutting boards hold heaps of fresh vegetables ready for processing; seven yards of jet griddle await the thousands of hot dogs sleeping for the moment beside legs of lamb, bacon, and hams in the clean coolness of mammoth refrigerators. The Central Kitchen rests like a well-bathed giant, poised to galvanize its members into action.

The men who manage the kitchens protest first that the food is not bad, but actually quite good and nutritious; and then, under further questioning, admit that their budget is rather prohibitive. The Central Kitchen, adequately equipped and staffed, could produce consistently agreeable food if they could afford better raw materials; but an average revenue of 78 cents per meal forces the Kitchen to sacrifice quality in an effort to keep enough food flowing to the dining halls.

The suggestion that better grade foods be served on a limited portion basis was adopted some years ago with unfortunate results: the CRIMSON ran an editorial saying, "The food may be better, but our boys are starving." So now the Kitchen serves students all they can put away.

Students will not pay more per meal for a promise of better food; many wish board rates were not compulsory, feeling they could feast royally around the Square for the amount they spend on discouraging meals in the Houses and Union. Dissatisfaction seems inevitable.

The obvious answer is a Food Fund; prosperous alumni who want to give the University really heartfelt aid might donate money to the Fund to be invested for a yearly supplement to the Kitchen's budget. An institution crawls on its belly.