THE UNION FRIES, A LOVE STORY
Amid the tumult of my first semester, I never set out in the mornings with the intention of buying my lunch from the union. I’d usually scurry over to Byres Road for an overpriced bagel, or wander the 20 minutes back to my flat to hastily whip something up before my afternoon lectures.
Despite this, there was another possibility for sustenance lurking outside my initial line of sight: cheese and chips from the Union kitchen. Without my knowing it, those greasy fries with the unmelted cheddar were always waiting for me, allowing a fallback if I was particularly hungry and in need. They were a safe option; quick, cheap, local, and decently tasty.
As the year went on, in late winter afternoons after my 3-4pm in the Charlie Wilson, when it was already getting dark outside and I didn't want to walk back to my flat, I slowly fell into the habit of meeting friends in the beer bar. Lo and behold, a polystyrene box of chips and a couple of little, impossible to open, ketchup packets usually ended up chaperoning those evenings too. Unbeknownst to me, union chips and cheese cared for me, filling my stomach before a few pints and acting as a buffer in case I didn’t get home until late. The comforting first bite became something reliable, an underappreciated culinary blessing. I knew that I’d eventually have to brave the walk back home, through the bitter Glasgow cold and windswept nights of December, but at least I’d be doing it with a stomach full of chips. Amid the many lessons I sat through in my first year at UofG, the chips and cheese taught me something unexpectedly valuable: to appreciate simplicity, and be content with satisfaction over excess. Chips and cheese thus covertly became not only one of my favourite union meals, but one of my favourite meals altogether, and a valuable class in humility. If no one else was there for me at university, chips and cheese was.
My first year was a period of domestic adjustment. Sure, I frequently failed to plan my lunches, and yes, I often neglected dinner in favour of catching up with my friends at the pub, but those cheesy chips acted as a cushion that made sure I was fed when I didn’t exactly get things right. No, they definitely weren’t the most delicious or healthy meal, but I was happy with average when it came to finding easy ways to get through the day, it only meant that perfection was something for me yet to discover.