The virtues (and limitations) of the Soggy School Lunch Square
I had a visceral reaction to the pizza photo -- like I can remember the exact sensation of how your front teeth feel hitting the doughy crust lol.
I can't believe you didn't put some M&M's on the homemade pizza and take a photo of the resulting Art!
The truly grim thing about school lunch pizza is, as awful as it was, it was still probably the best thing you could hope to come out of the cafeteria.
So in the late 50s we had what they called hamburger pizza which was half a hamburger bun topped with basically sloppy joe mixture and a sprinkling of green box parmesan
Your writing continues to make me laugh, think, and yearn for foods that I ought not to.
The pizza is bringing back so many Jr high memories. Specifically the time Anna, who had just moved to central Illinois from the futuristic city of Houston, bragged that she had been listening to Shaggy like a whole three months before it got popular on the radio in Springfield. Not to be like Anna, but I don't think we had naughty tables! That's so mean!
Wiener boats, the reason for my monthly trip to the naughty table. I can still smell them.
Wow can you write one of these for every school lunch item? Except for the taco salad. Wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.
So THAT'S what his middle initial stands for ...
Dry milk powder apparently is the easy nutritional fortification. The military's MREs do the same thing.
As the eldest child of thrifty granola parents who served a lot of lentils (not with actual spices - more the boil and serve variety) and baked their own whole grain brick-dense loaves of bread, I wasn’t allowed many school lunches of the 80s elementary years. (We didn’t go out to eat, either - too expensive, too unhealthy - unless it was for a baked potato or the salad bar at Wendy’s of yore.) But every week I stood in line at the cafeteria door without my trusty Peanuts lunchbox and waited for my turn to eye the ice cream treats with envy (cost extra for that chocolate gravel-coated “eclair” on a stick) and choose a carton of milk destined for mutilation prior to successful opening, and a greasy slab of government mandated pizza. It was so, so tasty to my Pizza Hut deprived, handmade clothes tortured self. I would’ve swooned for the M&Ms, right up until the moment anyone noticed.