Dining

The Secret Side of Professors: Their Snacks of Choice

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We as humans end up thinking about food a lot during class. Perhaps you’re craving your favorite dining hall’s greasy, yet delicious cheese pizza that awaits you. Maybe you’re regretting the Okenshield’s taco as you anxiously eye the door. Or maybe you were proactive, as you secretly slip bites of a cookie, fruit or nuts into your mouth as you attempt to keep up with the lecture slides. But something I only recently started to ponder, and I speculate many Cornellians neglect, is what our professors choose to snack on.

Columns

MEHLER | The Return to Fieri & Ramsay

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The suite encompassess our personalized touches around a small knee-high table stacked with green to-go containers and plastic cups. Our small area compiles an assortment of a small couch, an armchair, an ottoman, a couple of home-brought chairs and our suite mascot, Steven the Reptile (we still dispute whether he is an alligator or crocodile). Nonetheless, we dine in our home-sweet-home dining room. But at the head of the table sits our most regular guests at dinner: Guy Fieri and Gordon Ramsey.

Dining

Where Does Dining Hall Fish Come From?

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Cornell was the first Ivy to be certified by the Marine Stewardship Council for serving sustainable seafood in 2012, and today campus dining halls continue to provide students with fresh fish and crustaceans on a regular basis.

Dining

Corned Beef Contains No Corn, and Other Things You Didn’t Know About Irish Food

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Your life changes the day you realize that “sweetmeats” are actually pastries, “mincemeat” can refer to dried fruit cooked into a pie and ordering a plate of “sweetbreads” will get you a tasty calf pancreas. Misnomers like these just make you trust the world a little bit less. So, you can imagine how distraught I was to learn that corned beef has literally nothing to do with the yellow vegetable that grows on stalks. Well … almost nothing. 

“Corn” as we know it in Modern English has a rich etymology dating back to the Proto-Germanic kurnam, meaning “small seed.” This creates an obvious connection to the corn that we eat grilled with butter; what are kernels if not hundreds of small seeds lined up in a row? But Old English used the word corn much how we use “grain” today — that is to say, corn referred to the overarching category of small, granular cereals rather than to any specific plant.