Coping with late-night cravings

I realized just how far I had sunk when I found myself throwing my body in a vaguely Indiana Jones-like fashion under the slowly descending gate to the Frist food court in a last-ditch attempt to get pizza. I didn't even really want their pizza that much. But where else could I go? There are some late nights when Wa mac and cheese just won't cut it, and the U2, with its slightly hard Olives' cookies and cold Tiger Noodle entrees, is not exactly a bastion of gastronomical delights. Sure, that food is all well and good when you have the munchies and don't mind waking up the next morning feeling like you're going to give birth to a Tostito baby. But sometimes I find myself, rather like a member of the Anscombe society, wishing there were more to life. Or at least to the availability and variety of good, cheap food at Princeton.

As I see it, the problem is twofold. Not only is there barely anything available to eat after 10 p.m., but the primetime options are not much better. While there is a decent collection of restaurants with great food, they are more price-and-ambience-appropriate for the yuppie townies than the coed masses. I would like to be able to dine at Lahière's, Mediterra and Blue Point Grill on a regular basis, but a more typical night out might involve Panera or perhaps Winberries or Teresa's, if my friends and I are feeling particularly extravagant. The remarkable amount of sodium in Panera food is always a plus, but sometimes it's refreshing to go to a place where you don't have to bus your own dishes. Of course, I wouldn't mind separating my utensils from my plate and tray if they had played host to some genuinely good food. In fact, I'd put on some yellow gloves and scrub those dishes if it meant I could find some good Mexican within walking distance. Or — can you imagine it — some decent Thai food.

But I would probably even overlook the pad thai void in my life were there more than one decent coffee shop where I could go to work, hook myself up to a caffeine IV and stay later than 11 p.m. I came to Princeton envisioning students gathered in cozy coffee shops to study, socialize or discuss the philosophy of Hegel (actually, not that last one) into the wee hours of the morning. Instead, I found students wretchedly sleeping under the flickering fluorescent lights of Cafe Viv after having downed an unsatisfying chai. If only Bent Spoon were three times the size and open 24 hours. I would never leave and not only because, after my twentieth mini cupcake — "come on, they're so small they can't be bad for you" — I wouldn't be able to move.

I will admit that I had been complacent with the temporal and varietal limitations of Princeton food until I visited a friend in New Haven over Fall Break and had a conversion experience that will probably cause "Yale Sucks" shirt-wearing students all over campus to cringe. There were three Thai restaurants within walking distance and, at 3 a.m., my options were hardly limited to a Wa breaded chicken sandwich. Instead, I could go pick up free day-old bread from in front of one of New Haven's many coffee shops or get a hot gourmet sandwich, a bountiful salad and even fresh pizza. I gained three pounds in five days. It was fantastic.

I know you all are thinking: this girl is a pig and a food snob. No sh-t Sherlock. Get over it and don't even pretend like you haven't longed for Mexican food within walking distance or wished you could go scarf down a half dozen Bent Spoon cupcakes at 4 a.m. Princeton students may enjoy living in our little Orange Bubble, but I would gladly dodge a bullet or two to enjoy some red curry and satay or to get a fresh panini to eat with late night reruns of "The Family Guy" on TBS. Let's do our bit for the economy and encourage food diversity and availability. If they build it, we will come. Or at least I will. Cailey Hall is a sophomore from Los Angeles, CA. She can be reached at schall@princeton.edu.