by Zoe Sarvis, staff writer
For two years I have been a vegan for not only health reasons, but also as a personal choice. I transferred from a school with no vegan options, and no support for the vegan lifestyle. I survived off of PB&J sandwiches and handfuls of lettuce.
I first heard about the Warren Wilson College’s vegan-friendly reputation and food options through my brother, who started attending when I was a sophomore in high school. When I made my monthly trips to visit him, I often felt as though I had fallen into a magical realm of fairies, wizards and pioneers, and—gasp—a vegan cafeteria.
After visiting for five years, I finally felt as though Wilson was my home, so I made the leap and joined the community.
Living here has been different than just visiting, though. I have been getting this strange feeling every night around 7 p.m., a feeling that I haven’t felt since those PB&J days. After a couple of weeks of this feeling, I realized what it was: Hunger.
I started snacking more in the day so that during the nights and in between meals the scary beast that lived within my gut would stay assuaged.
At first I blamed the hills. My legs were screaming so I must just be burning more calories. I accepted this for about two days, until I realized I was practically crawling up the hills, there was simply nothing fueling me.
Then I blamed the change of schools—maybe I just wasn’t adjusted yet. This kept going for about two weeks. But then one day at lunch, I started picking up on certain conversations.
It wasn’t just me, afterall. There was a gang of us that were in a love/hate relationship with Cowpie. We enjoyed the quality, but felt the quantity was lacking.
The half a scoop of beans, and the slice of pizza that was 98% crust was just not cutting it.
I spoke to the people who grubbed at Gladfelter and they mentioned that they loved Cowpie, but just needed more food.
I wasn’t ready to break up just yet with Cowpie, so I decided to combat my problem by using my resources: the Echo.
I proposed the idea of an article about Cowpie so that I, and others on campus, could better understand its inner workings, clearing ourselves of the occasional bitterness we felt.
I went straight to the main man himself, Craig Schulz, to further understand how we could paint the picture of the ideal plate.
“I’m always happy to take feedback and suggestions and have conversations about [students’] food,” he said. “My goal is that people here, for one, get enough food and that [is] delicious and healthy. The thing about proportions is that for one thing everyone has different needs. I would prefer that everyone get their food the first time and enough of it so that they don’t have to get seconds. Some things we are able to give seconds on, some things we can’t. I don’t want anyone to not eat here because they aren’t getting enough calories. If that’s an issue with somebody, I invite them to come talk to me. Also while they’re getting served they can ask, “Can I get a little more rice?”, “Can I get a little more beans?” But something like pizza we are not able to give you two pieces of. But I will always try to have something to supplement them with so that they get enough.”
My initial anger and resentment for Cowpie faded away within moments. Since I met with Craig I can say I have no longer felt the urge to cause a ruckus in line when my plate looks skimpy compared to the ones in front or behind me.
For those who are satisfied with Cowpie, I salute you. For those who sometimes feel the PB&J blues every now and then, worry not, Craig and the Crew are happy to fuel you so you can power up those hills.