(Campus)Lifehacker: The Blue Room Salad
As yet another school year slowly winds to a close, you most likely have your daily Blue Room routine down to a science. Look for an empty booth, preferably one with an outlet. Put your bag down. Take a lap to find friends. Check to see if your favorite Shanghai sushi roll is still left. Eye the bakery/coffee line and gauge how much time you’ll have to spend waiting on it. Make a decision about what you’ll eat, pay, and hope that you have enough points left so you don’t hold up the line of impatient and hungry people behind you.
Of course, some inevitable external condition is bound take you out of your usual Blue Room rhythm. The 4 p.m. meal credit rush is definitely a game-changer and a royal pain in the ass. There’s only Sabra Red Pepper Hummus left. There are no more ciabatta rolls. The only fresh veggies on the bottom refrigerated shelf are those monstrous (and weirdly phallic) whole English cucumbers. And where did all the Nime Chow go?! Equilibrium has been disturbed.
If you’re seeking consistency above all else in your Blue Room dining experience, look no further than the Blue Room Salad. No, I’m not talking about those tiny boxes of spinach or field greens that come with a measly side of balsamic vinaigrette. I’m talking customization and options at your fingertips. Tastes and flavors like you’d never believe. Dreamy greens. The only thing that stands in your way is the pesky glass partition of the sandwich line. No more ciabatta rolls? No problem.
A Jo’s salad is to a Blue Room salad as Hallie (from The Parent Trap) is to her twin sister Annie: They’re “like, twins,” but one is pretty standard and has some funky flair (read: that rice, sun-dried tomato and pea concoction), while is the other is classy, better groomed, and has a British accent. Sure, the Blue Room
sandwich line salad line may not have avocado or artichoke hearts, but it has taboule, two varieties of hummus, grilled veggies, banana peppers, goat cheese, chicken and tuna salad, mozzarella and sliced tomatoes, among other things. Ask for a cardboard Kabob and Curry/Shanghai carton in place of bread, pick some fixings and dressing, and you’re good to go. Make it and shake it however you want – you’ve just made yourself the classiest (and tastiest) salad that BuDS can possibly offer. If it were to talk, it probably would sound like it’s from London. And it’s healthy, too.
Is this officially allowed? Maybe. Is it delicious? You know it. Regardless, the Blue Room Salad will blow your mind and make you feel like a million bucks. Here’s a question to consider: The Blue Room can run out of whole wheat wraps or seven grain bread, but can it ever really run out of lettuce? Nahz. So
lettuce let us eat our swanky Blue Room Salads and hope that someone has enough extra meal credits to spot us at the cash register.