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Whenever one walks into the University Restaurant these days, he feels inexpressibly foolish. There is no continuous ooze of canned music, to be sure, but in all other respects the new U.R. has been Howardjohnsonized, Waldorfized and condensed to the point where it has become embarrassing to attempt to order real food--a substance which seems so completely foreign to that gleaming if fraudulent atmosphere.
Of course, the food really is just the same (although prices have been jacked about a nickel an item), and the staff is just the same, but one must lament that the curious compulsion to glow with chrome which has already ravaged so many of the Square's eateries has now extended itself to the one place that was always comfortably ugly, and expansively comfortable.
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