The Peas Are Greener

For years Harvard men clung fondly to the notion that Adams House food was superior food. The tense air about the early evening crowd in the dining hall line as the interhouse quota slowly filled up, the crushed look on the young faces of those who did not make it-these things, one used to think, showed something about the quality of Adams food.

But now a charge has been made. Vice-President Reynolds has proclaimed that Adams is not blessed above the other Houses. The egalitarian trumpets have sounded.

The menus may differ from other Houses' on a given night, Reynolds says, but the food is the same, cooked in similar cauldrons, albeit in a different kitchen. The same shiny serving tables are used, and the same forks and knives; the same celery stands at the end of the line.

It is all a gigantic hoax, in fact. For years, Adams boosters have assiduously circulated the fiction that Adams food was better. And the College, like an oyster with an irritant, has built up through the years a veritable pearl of a reputation for Adams House.

The eating man will be disturbed by Reynolds' words. He will no doubt sample his salad more pensively next time he eats in Adams. His eye will run quickly, nervously over the meat, the potatoes, the milk. He will search his soul.

But in the end he will decide against these charges. He will unruffle. He will foregather in crowds at the wonted time. He will relax once again at the close of day and eat a better meal.