The other day, I saw a press release touting the Houston Independent School District’s Summer Feeding Program:
Breakfasts will be served from 7:30–8:30 a.m., and lunches will be served from 10:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Adults may also participate in the program by purchasing breakfast for $1.60 and lunch for $2.85.
HISD meals are nutritionally analyzed to ensure that children receive the vitamins, minerals, and calories required to maintain a balanced diet.
All that for under three bucks? How could I resist? So I skipped on down to the nearest government indoctrination center, which happens to be Sinclair Elementary School, less than two miles from MattCo.
After making my way past a mean-looking secretary and a bunch of kids who spoke less English than my pet fish does, I found the nearly empty cafeteria, and went through the serving line. The entire waitstaff consisted of one friendly woman in disposable plastic gloves. Here’s what she dished up:
It’s a six-compartment polystyrene tray, loaded with everything a growing boy needs. Today’s main course was breaded chicken strips, accompanied by broccoli cuts, a white roll and mashed potatoes. Accessories included a spork, an absurdly thin paper napkin, and a thin straw. I’ll address each compartment in turn, beginning with the chicken strips and going clockwise.
The chicken strips were thickly breaded, with only a slightly greasy feel. The breading, liberally spiked with black pepper, surrounded a rubbery bit of engineered chicken material. Not bad, as far as chicken strips go. Cream gravy would have been a nice addition, but it was nowhere to be found. The portion was pretty big — five strips! — but I attribute that to the server’s appreciation of my rugged good looks. Sources tell me that the standard portion is three strips.
The broccoli cuts were incredibly hot and somewhat overdone. Despite the overcooking, however, the vegetable’s flavor was unharmed. No seasoning was evident.
The tennis-ball sized dollop of mashed potatoes appeared to have been prepared from dehydrated potato flakes. The texture was perfectly uniform throughout: no bits of skin, no bacon bits, no cheese, nada. Similarly consistent was the utter lack of flavor.
The roll was tasty and dense, but for some inexplicable reason it was sliced latitudinally like a hamburger bun. I suppose the slice could have been an HISD hint, telling me where to apply butter, but none was provided. Pity. The roll was fine by itself, but a little butter or jelly would have gone a long way.As I was going through the serving line, I wondered what the fifth compartment would hold. Dessert, perhaps? Cherry cobbler with little crumbles on top would have been nice. Alas, the server completed her duties without putting anything in the fifth compartment. Was it a metaphor for the emptiness of an overreliance on government assistance, or just some sneaky bastard hoarding all the cobbler?
The sixth compartment was intended to hold utensils. As you can see, it’s designed so that the utensils face up when the compartment is oriented to the right. When you turn it around, the utensils are upside-down and the entree is far away. I’m deeply offended by this not-so-subtle slap at left-handed people, and I hope the superintendent takes measures to rectify HISD’s de facto policy of right supremacy.
No beverage was provided. I thought for sure I’d get a shot of 2% milk, but no dice. I guess calcium is exempt from HISD’s nutritional scrutiny. Instead, I hit the water fountain on the way out.
Anyway, back to lunch. The decor was pretty boring and institutional. The room was large, with round laminate tables, high ceilings, and way too much linoleum, glazed brick and harsh fluorescent lighting.
While I was enjoying my meal, I was approached by a gentleman who asked what I was doing. Apparently, school administrators don’t get a lot of food reviewers, because at first he seemed unconvinced by my explanation. He told me I should have gotten a visitor badge when I came into the school. Okay, no problem. I checked into the office on the way out, and they scanned my driver’s license into some massive HISD database. Pretty intrusive for some chicken fingers, if you ask me.
All in all, it was a pretty good meal, as long as you don’t stop to consider the fact that its mere existence encourages irresponsible parenting and complete, pet-like reliance on government.
Pros: Extra chicken; low price; convenient location; opportunity to mess with befuddled school administrator.
Cons: No drink; getting hassled by The Man; failing our children with a massive educational bureaucracy and welfare state; no gravy.
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