Today was the second day of the UF Writer’s Room and I’m pleased to report things are coming along nicely. So far as the show’s creative is concerned anyways. Lunches, on the other hand, are a work in progress.
While I appreciate the sentiment of catered lunches (“Ooooh, catered lunches!”), I am forced to point out that, for the most part, they range from mediocre to just downright disappointing. It’s always: the sandwich tray, the salad, the other salad, the fruit and cheese plate. Unfortunately, they’re usually the type of sandwiches one might find at a retirement home or in a hospital lobby’s vending machine. The flavor profile is is always the same: ennui, malaise and processed cheese.
But today’s sad sandwich offering was truly the saddest of them all. Feast your eyes on this culinary marvel –
I mean, technically, yes, it is a sandwich in so far as it IS a couple of things sandwiched between some bread, but I feel it’s not really a sandwich in spirit. I could almost imagine the caterer muttering: “Fuck these guys!” as he slapped it together this morning, an undeniable message of utter scorn and contempt to be delivered between noon and 1 p.m., pre-wrapped and cut in half for sharing.
I can’t help but see this sorrowful offering as a desperate cry for help from someone who has clearly hit rock-bottom, a perhaps once vibrant chef now wallowing in the monochrome misery of angst and utter hopelessness, their somber existence reduced to one paper thin slice of tomato, two sprigs of limpid greens, and soggy focaccia.
On the bright side, Akemi made brownies for the room – but kept all the end pieces for herself as she can’t fathom westerners them.
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