I am a big fan of burritos. The things have become a staple of my diet, which goes a long way in explaining my current physique. Whenever I am in the HUB at lunchtime, I find myself in the Arriba line. Not only is it always the shortest line during the lunch rush, but it also happens to serve the only burritos on campus.

Before I continue, I should explain the nature of my food budget. I have the “Purple” dining level; the astute among you will be quick to point out that this is far and away the largest meal plan, and that most people get along fine with a smaller plan. I go with the expensive option not because I eat prodigious amounts of food, but because I tend to get all of my work done at night and therefore buy about $20 worth of energy drinks and other miscellaneous sundries at Ian’s Domain a bit before midnight.

The sheer size of my food budget every quarter has prevented me from ever bothering to check how much money I spend on these burritos, or indeed on anything else I charge to my dining plan. Such fiscal irresponsibility is otherwise out of character for me, so I endeavoured to at least take note of how much my culinary indulgences cost. Imagine my surprise, then, when I looked at my receipt for a burrito with extra sour cream and saw that it cost a grand total of $6.25 before tax (both state tax and a “stadium” tax that I was not previously aware of).

I had been aware of a bit of a commotion a few days prior centering on the cost of food on campus, but I figured it was in relation to what campus food used to cost. Now I can see that the row was in regards to campus food relative to off-campus food. Being a connoisseur of burritos, I am well-acquainted with the menu at Chipotle, and the realization that I was spending as much on a campus burrito as I would spend on a far-superior burrito made with high-quality ingredients, along with a soft drink and chips sent straight from the heavens, almost caused me distress.

One of the two or three people that will inevitably read this column while attempting to ignore the professor at the front of the room may recall a piece that ran in The Daily a while back in regards to the campus food. The idea that high school seniors are choosing a college based on the quality of the food fills me with a feeling of dread, but that isn’t what is important; the article goes on to claim that the rising cost of campus food is explained by the need to support an ever-expanding menu of exotic-sounding foods, such as “naan bread with spiced basmati rice.”

Dishes with ambiguous pronunciations are good for a break once in a while, but from what I’ve seen during the last year or two is that the naan bread will be going stale, and that basmati rice will be undercooked to the point of breaking unsuspecting molars like little bits of gravel. I doubt I would be alone in thinking that I’d gladly give up the lamb shanks and exotic foods for a campus burger that was actually well-prepared and juicy. A much-reduced menu that could compete with off-campus offerings on the basis of quality, as well as price, would do more to advance the case for on-campus food than the most exotic menu HFS employees could ever prepare.