Malai Curry, Creamy Butter, Lemon Brined, Tikka Masala, Herb Roasted Thyme, Soy Garlic, Huli Huli and Adobo. What do all of these have in common? They are the names of the futile masks that the Stern dining hall has put on their chicken for this week’s lunch and dinner. No matter the name, smell or ethnic background it assumes, one thing remains undeniable — the chicken tastes the same. 

As an incoming frosh enrolled in the Stanford Summer Bridge Program, I, along with about 100 of my fellow peers, were diners of Stern hall for two weeks straight. When we first arrived, there was nothing but excitement and awe as we ventured into the overly warm and orange facility. After scanning in with our shiny new key cards, we surveyed our vast options, amazed at our freedom and the diversity of choice. Pasta sauces, fresh produce and even unlimited soft serve! Each day, things seemed to change. Lunch and dinner were something to look forward to.

However, by around day five, we realized that one item on the menu seemed to remain stagnant: chicken. No matter what preceded it in the buffet line, it seemed to always be the main and only source of meat available. There was no way to pass the line of sides and carbs without squaring up against the final omnipresent chicken boss. 

My peers were getting tired of it. The following were some of their responses when prompted to comment on the Stern chicken.

“It takes about six to seven minutes to eat each piece of chicken because of how dry it is,” stated Brian Chen ’29, a fellow Summer Bridge participant. 

“I felt like throwing up ’cause I am sick of the same chicken every night and dinner. I want more variety. Sometimes the chicken tastes very fishy,” said Cheyooung Ahn ’29, another frosh from Guam.

“CHICKEN AGAIN?!! I’VE HAD CHICKEN FIVE DAYS IN A ROW. EVERY TIME I WALK IN THERE, IT’S CHICKEN,” yelled David ’29. I didn’t ask David. Rather, I heard him yell this from across the dining hall one lunch. Cries for change like these were resounding through the Summer Bridge community – even some of our undergraduate mentors echoed the same sentiments. 

However, this shared despisal for the chicken has also created a sense of camaraderie, as students began creating “only eating chicken for the day” punishments and telling each other, “It’s not about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep going,” while slamming drumsticks slathered in marinara. Interestingly, testing the boundaries of our digestive system has actually had a deeper, more profound psychological effect.

When a group of students sits down and someone cracks the first joke at the chicken, the laughter that arises serves a purpose. According to Robin Dunbar, a British evolutionary psychologist at Oxford University, the biological evolutionary purpose of laughter, and by extension humor, stems from a social practice found in primates. Apes would clean, pick and stroke each other’s bodies in a form of “social grooming,” which triggered endorphins and calmed tensions, allowing for larger group sizes and better survival. Dunbar hypothesized that laughter, contagious in nature and endorphin-triggering, selectively evolved as a communal bonding mechanism that was more time-effective, contagious and practical for close proximity living. While these endorphins may be canceled out by the influx of cortisol released when tasting the Stern chicken, the positive connotations with chicken humor foster connection. 

Humor also conveys shared values and belonging to certain communities in a process called affiliation. Laughing when someone chokes on the chicken communicates an empathetic understanding, and social “bonds” are constructed. Slander of the chicken also allows students to convey their “authenticated position,” a term signifying someone who holds credibility in their community. This status is fluid, and through conversation and satire, people are constantly re-establishing and maintaining their belonging by curb-stomping the chicken.  

Moreover, college students are the most susceptible to a strong yearning for community and acceptance. This desire encourages conformity to the status quo and makes the dominant opinion on the chicken easier to accept. There is no easier way to spark a conversation with the mysterious old stranger (who probably has a Wikipedia page) or another awkward frosh than to take a swing at the dining hall food. Dining hall slander has remained an integral part of university culture across the U.S., and continues to construct bonds across age, ethnicity and social status. 

So does the Stern dining hall chicken truly deserve such hate? Amidst the dedicated pages of The Stanford Daily articles criticizing the dining halls and the cult-like celebrations of “burger day,” when one takes a step back, it is undoubtedly true that the dining hall food is not as bad as some may preach. After all, with unlimited protein, flavorful sides, soft serve, juicy fruit and an assortment of beverages, most find themself with an incredible opportunity to fuel themselves that differs from home. 

Chicken satire has been a tool for connection and has played its part in creating our Summer Bridge community. When one looks past the dry, deceptive, perpetual white meat, it is possible to see the chicken in a new light.