Duke needs spicy food
(04/02/24 4:00am)
My senior spring couldn’t feel more different from freshman spring, and not just because of the absence of a global pandemic.
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My senior spring couldn’t feel more different from freshman spring, and not just because of the absence of a global pandemic.
Duke students love being productive, and they love feeling productive even more. ChatGPT, which can streamline one’s workflow, might seem irresistible. Yet, many students barely use it.
I really like It’s Thyme, and I think students should eat there more. But I am not glad they replaced Panda Express. In fact, I am still sad that Panda is gone.
Few foods on campus stoke genuine delight for me anymore. This is partially due to my eating habits, as I tend to eat the same dish until I get bored. I’ve also lived on West Campus since freshman year, so I’ve tried just about every dish available, even obscure ones like Sprout’s French toast sticks and Tandoor’s dosas. My taste buds have been craving something new and different for a while now.
When I was a freshman, I thought that being a working adult would be paradise. Corporate America would mean the absence of my biggest Duke gripes: midterm exams, big egos and suspiciously soggy $5 cantaloupe. Never again would I spend $10 on 10 grams of salmon or sob over a silly school assignment. I would get paid for opening my laptop. What could be better?
Ginger + Soy seems like an unlikely place to get a salad.
At first blush, love has no room at Duke.
“I just can’t motivate myself to go.”
Although I’m a rising sophomore, I still don’t have an answer to “What’s your major” - the question that stokes about as much fear in my heart as does wrapping burritos on the line at Chipotle, though that’s for a different column.
Sour cream, the most insidious of ingredients, blanketed a mountain of Mexican-inspired madness. This customer had ordered a double-wrap, double-barbacoa burrito smothered in guac and dripping with salsas. I stared, petrified. It was my first day working at Chipotle and I couldn’t even figure out where to position my hands.
The first time I saw cauliflower flatbread in the wild, I didn’t even know it was flatbread.
Before I start, a disclaimer: I am not a nutritionist or dietitian, nor am I remotely knowledgeable about nutrition by any means. My only relevant background experience is writing a love letter professing my adoration of chicken shawarma disguised as an opinion column. But, I hope that’s enough for you to keep reading about my experiences hunting down high-protein options at the Brodhead Center.
Students know Farmstead for simple, delicious classics like baked salmon, roasted carrots or mashed potatoes. Farmstead’s offerings usually don’t feature a mélange of vegetables and meats like in the Ginger + Soy’s Chicken Teriyaki bowl, nor a layering of carb to meat to cheese to vegetable, like in ABP’s toasted chicken avocado sandwich. Instead, a singular vegetable or meat is the star of the show.