Satire by Defne Genc
“R&DE’s vision is to be the best in the business by creating a culture of excellence,” and it is indeed. In preparation for welcoming undergraduate students to EVGR-A this quarter, Stanford R&DE bolstered this vision by removing all obstacles keeping students from the rich, delectable experiences at Stanford Dining. This involved manually removing students’ ovens, stoves, kitchen walls, trash cans and kitchen floors one by one, followed by confiscating students’ own kitchen utensils.
“We wanted to ensure that our students stay safe and healthy during these unprecedented times by only having access to the best, most nutritious and most varied diet,” said one spokesman for R&DE. And they’re absolutely right — between the chicken, rice and beans at Arrillaga, the chicken, rice and beans at Stern or the chicken, rice and beans at Wilbur, students were already overwhelmed by the cornucopia of prepackaged goodies available at the dining halls!
When The Occasionally interviewed several students to get the scoop on the situation in EVGR, we received some mixed reviews:
“It’s great, really. I can see why it was totally worth the effort. I was afraid of tripping over the kitchen floors anyway. Now I have all this room to do all the Rec & Wellness virtual water polo classes!” says Joseph Wu ’22.
On the other hand, some students have taken to enrolling in cooking classes in hopes of recovering what was taken from them and using CHEM 31M boxed lab kits in place of their kitchen appliances. Another anxious Frosh, who wishes to remain anonymous, asked: “If I take Chemistry in the Kitchen next quarter, will I get my stove back?”
If you’re one of the lost souls in EVGR pining after your wasted MasterChef projects, don’t fret! We have suggestions on how to maximise this newfound empty space in your kitchen to make it look a bit less sad:
1. Build a fort to change up your Zoom setting!
2. Play hide ‘n seek!
3. Just use it to stow trash in your to-go meal bags like everybody else.
Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine, and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.
Contact Defne Genc at defneg ‘at’ stanford.edu.