A dim light and muffled chatter fill the dark side of the Class of 1953 Commons. I sit across from my friend as we talk about the lives of people we don’t know. Our heads are on a swivel, scanning the space out of habit. I look down at my meal. It’s what I’ve been getting every night for the past few weeks: rice and chicken coated in teriyaki sauce, alongside a salad with balsamic vinegar and too many red pepper flakes.
Foco is like a microcosm of Dartmouth. As the only traditional dining hall on campus, it has become a hub of conversation, reunions and drama for me and my friends. When I think about Foco, I remember eating fries from Late Night, rotting in sweatpants on light side and being confused by the constant, unexplained table rearrangements. But in my memories, I often overlook what I actually eat there — more specifically, how my meals have evolved over time.
What I eat now is completely different from what I ate freshman spring, which was different from what I ate during Orientation Week. When I first arrived at Dartmouth, Foco felt like freedom. It was the freedom to eat cookies and french fries and chicken nuggets to my heart’s content. Later in my freshman fall, I realized that I couldn’t survive off of cookies alone and began to switch up my meals and explore new Foco stations. Freshman winter I was a Herbivore snob, favoring the vegan selection of black bean burgers and cauliflower fajitas. Spring was when I got over my fear of ordering at the sandwich station.
At the start of this term, I decided to try something new once again. Feeling inspired, I got a griddled chicken breast from the grill and headed over to the stir-fry station for General Tso’s sauce. Then, I made my way to the spice rack, shaking at least four different peppers and herbs onto the chicken. The result was a meal so perfectly seasoned that I immediately decided it would become a dinner staple.
I had created a Foco “hack,” or a creative combination of different Foco offerings to make a unique meal. Now, I’m not a stranger to Foco hacks — during a First-Year Trips dinner, my Trip leader showed me how to use two salad bowls to shake a salad. A common Foco hack is to ask for a toasted tortilla wrap from the sandwich station, then use ingredients from the salad station to make a D.I.Y. Caesar wrap. Another is the iconic combination of a Foco cookie with a scoop of ice cream to create a sundae.
Though I had tried out Foco hacks before, my personal hack quickly grew on me. I started to experiment more, adding teriyaki sauce to rice, along with herb seasoning and lime powder. Instead of accepting whatever Dartmouth Dining Services had cooked that day, Foco food became a starting point I could build on.
A few weeks later, I also decided to document my creations: I made a Foco hacks Instagram and named it Dine and Shine Dartmouth. Why Dine and Shine? Because a better name would have been Rise and Dine, but I wasn’t clever enough to think of that.
After posting some of my meals, I started to realize how similar they were to each other — even my own hacks had become another run-of-the-mill Foco meal. So I asked around, sourcing meal ideas from others to try out for the account. I learned about cucumber-and-dill bagels for when you want something savory and bananas with caramel from the ice cream station. My arsenal of hacks expanded.
Soon enough, my hacks had not only reached an audience of 59 followers, but they were inspiring others to get creative, too. My friend — a Dine and Shine follower and a former enthusiast of Ma Thayer’s, the standard entree station — watched me make my daily hacks and was influenced to try out her own: pasta with peas and chicken nuggets.
My Foco hacks have also inspired some discourse. One day at lunch, I sat down at a circle table with my classic “hack” meal — the aforementioned griddled chicken breast, rice and salad trio — and the person I was eating with turned to me and said, “I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but your meals honestly look kind of gross.” I shrugged and picked up my fork. I never said I was grading my Foco hacks on presentation.
I don’t know why I started “hacking” so heavily this term. Maybe it’s because many of my friends are still on the Ivy Unlimited dining plan, and it’s a necessity to avoid Foco burnout. Maybe it’s just another thing to look forward to in a sometimes bleak Hanover winter. Whatever it is, finding a new way to utilize the food offered to me every day at Foco has made me feel like I’m getting the most out of every meal swipe.
Entering my second Hanover winter this term, I was sure I knew what to expect: cold weather and lots of time in Sanborn Library. However, Foco hacks have helped me realize that everyday things can still be special. It can be easy to focus on what we lack: the warmth of home-cooked meals, big-city food options and even something as simple as lime wedges. (DDS, if you’re listening, I’ve texted this to you many times: Please add lime wedges to the menu.)
My makeshift gourmet meals — however silly and not-actually-gourmet they may be — have shown me that despite the sometimes cloistered nature of Dartmouth’s campus, it’s about what we make of it. It’s about finding excitement in the mundane, refusing to passively accept what’s served right in front of you. When winter serves up yet another day of snow, ice and slush, instead of spending it inside, I go sledding or skiing. This term, instead of letting my days end when it gets dark, I auditioned for a play and went to nighttime rehearsals that I looked forward to every day. Dartmouth terms don’t have to be monotonous — they can surprise you, as long as you put in the effort to let them.
So next time you’re at Foco, take a break from Ma Thayer’s and create your own hack. You may be surprised at how even the simplest change can make an everyday meal into something a bit more special.
