In which I wax nostalgic for butter

Growing up in the mountains of southwest Virginia, I rarely ate Chinese cuisine. In fact, I never did, unless you count Chicken Chow Mein as served up in the John I. Burton cafeteria. A nice scoop of chicken and some vague veggie soaked in a creamy soup topped with crispy chow mein noodles. This was as authentic as it got. (Of course, I also believed that Velveeta was the realest cheese there was. Velveeta beat Kraft Sliced American by a country mile.)

They don't make cafeteria food like they used to, is what I'm thinking tonight. Cafeteria food used to equal comfort. Spaghetti. Hamburger, Minute Steak and Gravy. Hot Roll with Butter. Yes, butter. A hunk of real, straight-from-the-cow butter.

Now the school cafeteria menu looks like something from a vegan support group - garbanzo beans, carrot sticks, celery sticks (w/ Ranch Cup), kidney bean salad, pea pods. Seriously. It makes me long for a can of Vienna Sausages and a Del Monte Pudding Cup!

How do today's kids stand it? Benjy wants to pack a lunch most every single day. He's like me - picky. I drink a V-8 for my veggie supply. He eats an apple for his fruit obligation. We get by on the bare minimum of health standards. (No, I'm not proud.) 

Still, while I know that these new foods are meant to make our kids healthier, I'm nostalgic for the menus that made me look forward to the lunch line.

That sauce with the Minute Steak and Gravy?
To die for!!!

And the butter?
I would slide it to the corner of its little sea-green compartment in my lunch tray and then smear my Not Whole Grain Roll into the greasy cube before each and every bite.
   Pure.
         Buttery.
                Bliss.

The most lasting and nostalgic of all meals was the annual Spaghetti with Meat Sauce fundraising dinner at the high school.  This dish attracted spaghetti lovers by the droves to the annual Raider Football Supper. (Or was it Raider Football that prompted people to eat the spaghetti???)

Every fall, a gathering of fans would form down by the basement entrance to the cafeteria. Band music blared as the woodwinds and what-not warmed up and the drums banged out their beats from down the hall. There was a line - a real actual line of people - to the cafeteria where the meal was served.

We all gathered on that night - musicians, athletes, spaghetti lovers. Gorging ourselves full and then waddling over to the stadium. Football players, cheerleaders, the band, and the fans, united by noodles and Hot Buttered Rolls.