I am not here to hate on anything, but in my attempt to conjure a strong opinion to serve as the topic for this article, I realized that any subject matter associated with food is abundantly fruitful for critical conversation. This is evident from my Fritos crusade a few weeks back, one that unfortunately failed to move the needle in any significant way. Trust me, I knew that the Frito-loving community was hurtling towards extinction, but I was expecting at least a few closet corn chip fanatics to join me on my expedition. Hopefully, this opinion will connect with more of you. I would not even necessarily categorize this as an opinion, but more of a theory. It almost feels to me like whoever calls the shots at the Soper Commons Dining Hall at Hamilton College is using the dessert choices to conduct some sort of anthropological experiment. This is not even a complaint, but rather genuine curiosity as to how in the world the Commons dessert schedule is created.

Being in charge of dessert for close to 2,000 college students is far from an insignificant task. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but let me ask you, what has a greater impact on your life, potatoes and eggs, or a triple chocolate cheesecake with caramel sauce and brownie bits? My point is that dessert matters, and I would absolutely not believe you if you told me that the first thing that catches your attention when you walk through those doors is anything but those two white trays to the right of the juice machine. That is certainly the first thing I check when I arrive for dinner, and I apologize if I offend the six people on campus who enjoy spice cake with vanilla frosting, but it is rarely, if ever, the option I am hoping to see. Diversity is very important — I appreciate the effort to mix it up and keep us on our toes — but sometimes I have a difficult time envisioning those conversations: “I’m thinking of Boston cream for tonight.” “Over the lemonade cake?” “Yeah, never mind, you’re right.”

I’m simply perplexed as to how the dessert plan comes about. Take the milk machine, for example: ever hear anyone complaining about the option of chocolate milk every day, and never any strawberry soy milk? I could drink chocolate milk at every meal. You know it is going to be a good day when the chocolate milk is flowing at Commons. When you pull that lever, unsure of what you will be able to muster, and a torrential downpour of brown liquid goes streaming into your cup, it really is a beautiful sight. So again, I appreciate the effort for a change of pace. But it would not kill anybody if they had more brownie cheesecake. Is spice cake way easier to make than the other options? Maybe it is. I am no baking expert. But unless they grow it on trees in the arboretum, someone is vastly underestimating the allure of ginger and vanilla icing. I suppose my overall opinion is this: the dessert choices made at Commons are bizarre, to say the least. I have to assume that at least some of you are often underwhelmed by the post-dinner sweets available. I would also like to reiterate that disappointment is an afterthought compared to the sheer curiosity I have. I would love to sit down with the minds that make the dessert decisions at Commons and try to understand how they operate. I cannot even begin to imagine what I would find.