Welcome to the Class of 2012, I think...

Today was my first day back to school as a full-time adult student. I was surprised how young the other students seem to be. Actually, I was surprised at how old I felt next to them!

The English/Food Writing class that I had at Baruch today is what drew me back into school in the first place. I was considering taking a Gotham Writers Workshop class and got the idea to check CUNY first, since I needed credits toward my incomplete degree anyway and I figured financial aid would likely cover the cost. I found this particular class via a Google search and felt really encouraged to see what else was out there in the world of accessible academia.

I’m in a special program called the CUNY Baccalaureate for Unique and Interdisciplinary Studies which allows me to be more independent than a traditional student. I can take classes at any CUNY campus in the entire city, and with the help of my mentor, the requirements for my major are self-selected. My concentration is Sustainable Food Studies. This makes sense since I already spend most of my free time working on or reading about food related stuff, cooking and eating. This is what my Spring semester looks like: English/Food Writing; Environmental Ethics; Community Organizing; Video Production; and a Religion class that covers food traditions.

Split Pea Soup

I was 18 years old when I worked in the Classical Music Department at the now-closed Tower Records in Greenwich Village. My friends all worked there, too, and every day was a great time. My favorite moments were late nights playing Braham’s German Requiem and Strauss’ Alpine Symphony at full volume and standing underneath the speakers to feel the waterfall of music rushing down all around me. Lunchtime on minimum wage salary usually meant a bowl of split pea soup swimming with crunchy fried croutons from Cozy Soup and Burger. This is Good food – yes, with a capital “G” just like God. Good food, for me at least, is a spiritual experience.

I have no memory of any other pea soup before those bowls at Cozy. Maybe I never had it, and if I did, it never meant anything to me. Like a vessel of green love, you don’t eat the soup for nutrition or for warmth, you eat it because it is soul-satisfying. It is Good food, and when you eat it, you are Good. Fourteen years later, on a cold January day, I went back. Sitting alone at the counter in anticipation, I waited for my little bowl of warm heaven to arrive. With the first spoonful, I was greeted with the memories of lunches long ago and people long forgotten. I thanked the manager on the way out for not changing the recipe in all these years, and left with the satisfaction of having a nice visit with an old friend.