Remember college? And your college dining hall? And how much you hated it there and you longed for your
mother’s home cooking, and your favourite diner, and that arugala salad you used to get when you were interning at the Wall Street Journal?
No, not me. I mean, not me on that last part; I totally do remember college and the dining hall.
No, I never longed for anything but Chicken Patties, so for the 4 years I was in college, it was like God has created a restaurant just for me. I never had to pay, but I could get as much as I wanted, and every semester, they’d set up a cotton candy machine and a kiddie pool full of ice cream (I went to clown college).
And there were Chicken Patties.
For those of you who don’t know (or are from Europe), Chicken Patties are processed white chicken, flattened into a patty-like shape, then breaded, and then fried. They are delicious, and they can be covered in any manner of things: mayo, cheddar cheese, ranch dressing, hollandaise sauce, mint sauce, BBQ sauce, soy sauce… you get the idea.
But I don’t prefer them in anything but the modern-day ambrosia of HOT SAUCE. The proper kind, like for chicken wings.
This is what I used to do (and stop reading now if you’re pregnant or prone to projectile vomiting, because this totally will make you boot):
I would get a Chicken Patty on a plate, without a bun. Then, I would pour that nectar of the gods hot sauce on top of it, and then on top of THAT, I’d pour blue cheese dressing.
Then I would get 3-4 meatballs, and a large glass of lemonade.
Then, defying all of nature and ignoring all the disgusted looks on other students’ faces, I would sit down and eat the chicken patty (with a knife and fork… I’m gross, but not that gross, okay), and then proceed to dip the meatballs in the leftover blue cheese/hot sauce mix.
Finally, I would chug the lemonade, and head to the salad bar for some chocolate pudding (everyone loves chocolate pudding, so while adding it to the end of this meal may be gross, overall, chocolate pudding is good, which is why I’m not counting it).
Let’s also note that I am lactose intolerant, so I did this repeatedly and twice daily despite the fact that it caused me several hours of discomfort later.
Every day I am kept alive by the jokers up in Heaven, I wish I still had board bucks so I could go back to school and consume this atrocity to nutrition just once more.
If you are saying to yourself, ‘Well, it doesn’t sound THAT bad!’, let me be clear and say that 1. no one- and i mean NO ONE- that has ever seen me prepare and eat this dish has ever done anything besides pull that face like someone just farted and looked away, and 2. you’re only IMAGINING what it smells and tastes like, but if you ever get a chance to see and smell the real thing, you’d instantly vomit into your mouth and then ask me if I was raised in a Dickensian orphanage (I was, but that’s actually not why I enjoy this).
So. Yeah. Another thing that only *I* could possibly like.
It’s true. She ate this like, every day in college. More disturbing than the content of the meal though, was the enjoyment, the utter and complete satisfaction she received while consuming said meal. I still remember the dainty way she would sop up the leftover sauce with those meatballs and pop them in her mouth, one by one, until the meal was complete. I thought that after being hauled out of the dorm on a stretcher for a brief hospital stay she wouldn’t be able to eat her chicken patties anymore, but I was wrong. No one comes between her and her patties.
btw,
you can buy chicken patties at the store. they’re in the freezer aisle. and buffalo and bleu cheese too. Treat yourself.
maybe the dining hall has an online store where they will ship you your favorite dining hall meals. mine was the mediterranean flat bread. that shit was so good.
i only ate a chicken patty there once because you said there were awesome. i was really disappointed and never ate one again. maybe if i had covered it in your magic sauce things would have been different? probably not.