Over the last decade, the general consensus among food scientists and left-wing politicians has been that the American food industry has run amuck with unhealthy, non-sustainable products. Local and national government, bucking free-market economics, have immersed themselves in the politics of what should go on our plates. For example, New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who has already banned trans fats in Big Apple restaurants, wants to limit salt content in prepared foods by 25 percent. Other left-leaning states have launched similar campaigns to regulate what citizens are eating.
In response to the criticism and consumer demand, food corporations have churned out a slew of organic products. Stroll down a grocery store aisle and you're bound to see dozens of packages with "organic" or "natural" logos displayed across the front. Hanover is not immune to this organic wave Dartmouth Dining Services continues to expand its organic and local offerings. Meanwhile, the Dartmouth Organic Farm provides campus food, as well as a physical space for learning Ecological Agriculture, which is taught in the summer, works on the farm. Despite the availability of organic and natural foods, Dartmouth students too often must choose between a "healthy dining hall" or "unhealthy dining hall" when heading to dinner.
As some Dartmouth cuisine becomes healthier and more sustainable, the divide between those students who hunger for organic food and those who want the more traditional college fare widens. This polarization exists because only certain dining halls are socially understood to be "healthier." The Hop and Food Court tend to serve typical (and, don't get me wrong, delicious) grill items along with filling hot courses, while Homeplate and Collis Caf are seen as more alternative establishments with an emphasis on serving organic and locally grown foods. While these categorizations are not completely fair you can find sugary soda at Collis and fresh local apples at the Hop the general campus, it seems, eats and socializes according to this divide.
The social connotations of eating in a particular locale can affect the quality and relative health value of the food one eats overall. Collis is known for its hard-core following ("Never Collis," June 1), while FoCo is typically frequented for its decadent secret grill items and facetime frenzy. For those who love FoCo, a lack of Collis's organic and local offerings restricts a healthy diet, while spending time exclusively at Collis prevents crunchy types from getting their daily recommended servings of facetime.
While replacing traditional entrees at FoCo with subjectively less appealing and comparatively slower Homplate options would improve the overall nutrition of a large group of Dartmouth students, it would also damage part of what makes FoCo special. Instead, DDS needs broad-based reform much like Mayor Bloomberg's attempt in regard to salt content. If the nutritional value of each food item especially in eateries where people go to avoid the health nut stereotype was evaluated and improved behind the counter, all dining halls would cater both to those who want to eat healthily.
Eating the most basic yet socially important aspect of living in a community ought to be an event enjoyed by all. Making all dining halls more accessible to the needs of all diets would allow students with culinary tastes to share in the culture of eating while also preserving the diversity of social spaces. If DDS food was healthier, we could solve a nutritional problem without ruining the unique character of each dining establishment.
