Between the ages of 9-15, I went to a summer camp in North Carolina called Blue Star. As you can probably guess by this, I am very familiar with dining hall food, as that is what I ate, three times a day – for six summers. Being someone who appreciates a life-changing avocado hot-sauce and a well-seasoned chicken milanese, it was hard for me to eat at the dining hall sometimes. But, it was never enough to get me back on a plane to San Diego.

Chang Rae Lee, in his essay “Immovable Feast”, helps us understand why the thousands of people who go to summer camp and eat this way can look past the horrible food. For one, he argues, “We were fifteen-year-old boys, and we were hungry.” This is his explanation for why he was always one of the first people to make it in the hall regardless of the meal. It makes sense, that in a hot summer climate, no matter what the food is, you are going to want to eat, even if it means eating gross hot-dogs. In those times, Lee’s concluding sentence makes a lot of sense “You had few choices, hardly any liberties, but you dreamed.” But, on another occasion, food gave us the possibility to make our own traditions. That tradition consisted of a simple sandwich made up of the cheapest white bread possible, a slice of cheddar cheese, salt and pepper, and potato chips. This, we would eat only after we had finished a three hour hike up, the treacherous Mt. Pinnacle. Recreating it at home never tasted the same for any of us.