Anyone who has ever been at a boarding school (or any other type of institution, for that matter) knows that students always complain about the food. Complaints were certainly justified here for many years. We used to hear about one student who tied the school chapattis to his feet like sandals and walked up the hill to school without ruining them. Then there was the type of pasta available here in the 1950s-1970s. Paste was literally a good name for it.
There has been a lot of change in the last few years. The food service was outsourced to Sanjay’s (class of 1981) catering company several years ago. Students still complain, of course; what else can one expect? But I’ve found it much improved. For one thing, better ingredients (according to western standards) are available here now – decent pasta included. The meals tend a bit toward starchy/carbohydrate fare, but that is to be expected for food that has to fill up active kids. We are eating lunch in the staff dining room daily and it is quite satisfying. The menu is varied, with plenty of salad and fresh fruit offered. The desserts can be quite nice, too! There is rice and dal at nearly every lunch.
Other than lunch, we eat in our apartment most of the time. Dan makes chai as soon as he gets up (just like at home), then we have peanut butter and jam on rusk or bread and bananas. We can have supper in the school dining room, too, but we usually prefer eating at home. We eat a light supper of soup (packets are fairly decent), cheese and crackers (or more PB) and fruit.
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The infamous chapattis-wearing alumnus is Rev. Fred Downs ('49)- a Distinguished Alumnus of Woodstock, highly respected theologian, Rick Downs' dad, and Jane Downs Wallbrown's big brother. Fred walked all around the Hostel playground with chapattis tied to the soles of his shoes to demonstrate how inedible were these chapattis. The strings worn out before the chapattis!
ReplyDeleteThanks, TZ - I'm glad it wasn't a myth!
ReplyDeleteAh yes, the food at Woodstock. I remember the time we found a goat hoof in the bowl of meat that was being passed around the table....and the maggots among the pasta, almost indistiguishable one from the other. Those were the days, all right (late 50's-early 60s). Julie E, Class '61
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