University Food System Feeds 5700 Daily

Although its weekly buying is complicated by a growing list of shortages and its efficiency is threatened by a lack of manpower, the food system of Harvard University still fulfills its primary task of feeding a city of 5700 people three times a day. All the work it takes to bring a lamb from the farm to the stew on a student's plate is centralized on the top floor of Lehman Hall in the offices of Roy L. Westcott, manager of the dining halls.

Seven kitchens are responsible for feeding all Harvard. They range in size from the small, separate Adams and Dunster kitchens which feed a thousand undergraduates jointly, to the so-called College group which feeds the other five Houses for a total of 1800 mouths. Eighteen hundred Naval Officers are fed in the Union and in the new mess hall across the river, while the Medical School and Business School feed 1100 more.

Preparation of a family lunch and preparation of food for 5700 hungry students presents few points of similarity. Scarities which are an annoyance in procuring food for a family become a nightmare where a University is concerned.

Stewards head each of the seven units, and as men trained in the art of cooking and dietetics, they are responsible for drawing up menus for each week. These menus are cleared through Westcott's office where they are checked for a balanced diet, and are then sent to the printer. On the basis of these menus, stewards compute the amount of food they will need for the week.

Office Buys for All

Piecing together the demands from the various separate units, the central office procures the food in one lot. In drawing up a menu, however, a steward must consider other factors in addition to the balance of the diet; he must now try to select foods which he knows will be available, and he must know the specialities of his chefs.

Canned staples form one great division of University food purchase. Annually, in the past it has been the spring, wholesalers are asked to send samples to the University. These samples are then tested for compliance with government regulations and for compliance with their advertised quality. A common subterfuge is to water the contents of the can to increase bulk. Records are kept of the tests, and the comparisons in quality and price of the different brands; a standard may thus be established which may be consulted from year to year. Orders that are delivered are re-checked against the quality contracted for.

Greatest headache to the central office is the weekly purchase of perishable goods based upon the requisitions from the stewards. Certain of these commodities are bought against a standard scale based on records of tests conducted by the University.

At best the system is working on a week to week basis, since a commodity available in quantity one week is priceless the next. Meat and butter have been the latest victims of war shortages. Recently a steward planned to have roast beef for a House dinner. The order was placed and the menu printed, when the dealer announced that he could only procure lamb. Even Boston's great staple, seafood, is becoming scarce as the war intrudes upon the activities of offshore fishermen.

Adams, Dunster Separate

Typical of the smaller units in the University food system and almost identical with Dunster House is Adams. This is a small but complete kitchen with its separate steward. Cartons of canned goods are piled up in the storerooms while refrigerated rooms of varying temperatures preserve the perishables. Opening the massive door to the sub-freezing meat storage room, an attendant tells of the steaks and whole animals which once filled the room where now hangs only a lonely side of lamb.

Ranges and stock pots do the lion's share of the cooking in the kitchen, while steam tables keep the food hot until it is served, and tables which are used for preparation of salads are refrigerated to keep them fresh and cool.

Washing is entirely automatic and steam is the great sterling agent. Glasses are never touched by hand until they reach the table, while cutlery is sterilized in a rapidly whirling drum which occasionally leaves a slight film on the article, but guarantees its sterility.

University inspectors carry off articles from the kitchens and test them in the Public Health Laboratories from time to time to check on the job of sterilization. In addition to this the University must meet the usual board of health standards, as well as satisfy the tastes of a visiting board of students' mothers appointed by the Board of Overseers who take occasional meals in the dining halls.

Working his way from the smaller to larger unit, a visitor to the food system next makes an inspection of the great kitchens and storerooms located under Kirkland House. At first there seems to be no system at all here; one is lost in a maze of tunnels and interlocking rooms while a bustling stream of white-uniformed workers hasten through the passageways.

The first impression is that of quantity. Cartons piled to the roof, boxes and cases of rare spices and sauces which barely put in their appearance in the family larder all fill the eye. Then gradually a few details become clear. There is a distinct impression of a close trinity of material--tile, wood, and iron. Tile walls and floor glistening white view with wetly scrubbed tables marked by the deep scars of many knives, while both stand in contrast to the sombre mass of iron stoves and pots, worn, rubbed and fiercely hot.

One room is devoted to the preparation of potatoes with its washing bins and automatic peeler; this opens into a room where cooks are stuffing chickens by the dozens. The main cooking room is lined on one side with a row of massive ranges, and on another side a row of six stock pots simmer and boil. In the center hang great copper kettles and ladles glistening in the moist warmth while chefs feverishly prepare the evening meal on the tables below.

Each room seems to lead into another, and such a chance encounter leads the observer into the strange ice room where a score or so 100 pound cakes of ice are being manufactured for use in the kitchens. Another door leads you behind the scenes at the Eliot House Grille, still one of the most popular eating spots for the Harvard student. All the food and help at the Grille are provided by the University.

The frequent shift in personnel behind the counter of the Grille is one of the few indications the undergraduate has of the manpower crisis within the University. All the staff for the kitchens and the dining halls are provided through the Personnel Office which is hard put to find the skilled labor.

Maze of Tunnels

A short corridor and another door leads the visitor suddenly out into the great system of food tunnels. Heavy foods like roasts and great quantities of vegetables are prepared in the large kitchen and trundled through the tunnels in covered cars which have been electrically preheated. Light foods and breakfasts are prepared in the serving kitchens of each House. Since the distance from Kirkland to the farthest dining hall, Leverett, is 1800 feet, provisions have been made so that Leverett alone of the five Houses can be made self-sufficient in preparation of food.

The tunnels themselves are fairly high and well lighted, and even the most staid observer would be forgiven a pardonable desire to be turned loose here underground with a Jeep. Only the passage of a occasional food cart breaks the cool silence of the tunnels, although several hundred unwitting students may be tramping overhead.

Five to six hundred leaves of all kinds of bread must be provided daily for the whole University by the College Bakery located under Eliot next to the College Kitchens. Here also is prepared all the plain and fancy pastries which appear on the tables in the dining halls, cookies, pies, rolls, and many fancy desserts.

The air of the large bakery rooms is scented with the smell of warm bread, which pops and crackles invitingly in its great wire racks. Near the entrance looms a massive mixer, easily twice the height of the average man. Flour and other ingredients are sifted into a great mixing tub from a high funnel-shaped inlet and then kneaded by long-armed paddles.

World of Pastry

In another corner of the room, smaller mixers five and six feet high whirl wire beaters the size of a man's head in bowls of frosting or small lots of dough. All about the room stand frames filled with trays of bread, pies, and a thousand different kinds of cookies.

Once that the dough for bread has been prepared it is removed to the "profing room" where it sits in great tubs to rise. Steam jets keep the air of the room warm and moist for the difficult and delicate process. Leaves are prepared for the even either by rough shaping as in the case of French bread or by placing in pans; rolls are cut to size on a special machine.

Great baking ovens occupy one side of the room. Reaching the ceiling, their great tile fronts seem to glower over the whole room. They are heated to a tremendous temperature by gas jets, and when they are opened, the narrow tile inner ovens are incandescant with heat. "Peel poles" 12 to 14 feet in length with wooden paddles on one end are the agents for placing leaves in and removing them from the ovens. In the baking of French bread the crowning touch is the use of steam jets on the hot loaves to produce a perfect crust.

The existence of this bakery is testimony to a standing principle of the University food system--to prepare as much of the food as possible on the premises. Except for obviously specialized foods the only commodity which is not prepared by the food system is ice cream, which is bought outside. Already the government edict on this delicacy has made itself felt in the dining halls.

Uncertain of the status of the student body which it has been created to serve, and plagued by new problems of war-time shortages, the University food system carries on. The task has always been great: it is now larger than ever. As long as is humanly possible the system will try to maintain its standards of giving the student the best to be had for the price paid, but patience, sacrifice, and above all, understanding, will help to make the burden lighter.