July 30, 2014

Scrolling Headlines:

UMass Football summer coverage 2014 -

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Chiarelli: Sam Koch’s impact evident in those who knew him best -

Monday, July 21, 2014

Longtime UMass men’s soccer coach Sam Koch dies after two-year battle with sinus cancer -

Monday, July 21, 2014

Southwest evacuated after gas leak -

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

UMass Rowing finishes NCAA Championships, ends year ranked No. 21 in the nation -

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Two UMass basketball alums to compete for a lofty prize in The Basketball Tournament -

Friday, May 23, 2014

Commencement Photos 2014 -

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Two arrested in relation to series of vandalism -

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Students push for relocation of the Center for Counseling and Psychological Health -

Monday, May 12, 2014

Video: No. 14 UMass WLAX ends season in loss to Loyola (MD) -

Saturday, May 10, 2014

No. 14 UMass women’s lacrosse season ends in loss to Loyola (MD) -

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Sixth inning rally propels UMass past Dayton 7-2 -

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

McMahon, Ferris and McGovern: Not your usual transfer story -

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Women’s lacrosse defeats Richmond 10-6 to win sixth straight A-10 Championship -

Sunday, May 4, 2014

No. 13 UMass women’s lacrosse knocks off Duquesne 16-3 to reach Atlantic 10 finals -

Friday, May 2, 2014

UMass one of 55 schools currently facing investigation over handling of sexual assault cases -

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Two thefts reported at library -

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Senior Columns 2013-2014 -

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

UMass Dining proposes major meal plan changes -

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

UMass baseball beats UConn for first time since 2007 -

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Franklin stir fry: risk and reward

Taylor C. Snow/Collegian

As I enter Franklin Dining Commons, the stench hits me. A combination of sweet, sour and saltiness, infamously known as the “Frank Stank” seeps up through my nostrils and begins to fry my brain. But I trek up the carpeted ramp, willing to sacrifice my stomach to sure indigestion.

So, where does this smell originate? It certainly does not come from the pasta, sandwich or salad bars. All one needs to do is search for the cloud of steam arising from the campus-side of Frank: the stir-fry station.

There are two questions I must ask myself before venturing over to the line: Have I eaten yet today? Have I showered yet today? If the answer to both questions is no, I will proceed at my own risk.

First I choose my veggies, because, of course, veggies will automatically make any meal a healthy one. I wait for a frying pan to open up, during which time I consume more than half of the peppers, peas and water chestnuts that I had just placed on my tea saucer-size plate, but it’s too late to backtrack for more.

The cook dumps the veggies into the empty pan, adds garlic, chicken and a heaping pile of egg noodles. She asks me a question. I don’t understand a single word, and ask her to repeat. Her response is still incomprehensible, so I answer, “yes,” politely. She produces the result from four plastic squeeze-bottles: fountains of hoisin,  teriyaki and oyster sauces, along with a a splash sesame oil. Dear God, will my taste buds survive this combination of brown sodium-laden liquid?

Then, she quips a short one-word question: “Spicy?”

The most impactful, perhaps harmful decision comes here: Do I take the risk of adding more flavors to my meal only to end my afternoon with an explosive result?

“Just a little,” I reply; to which she adds a heaping spoonful of chili paste. This will not end well.

I carry the food back to my seat, dodging the odorous steam arising from the plate, so my classmates do not have to suffer from the ghastly scent that it surely will implant into my skin.

No matter, I purposefully wore an old sweatshirt and sweatpants – my usual Franklin gear – which I planned to change out of and possibly torch immediately following my meal.

As I take my first bite, the flavor is overwhelming: much better than the smell. The spiciness bites at the back of my nose, reminding me of what is soon to come. I make it most of the way through the meal, but not even my empty stomach can handle the entire mountainous pile of food. A few noodle strands and peas remain, which my chopsticks could not conquer. I stand up and walk out, surely reeking of the food I just consumed.

I walk back across the street to my dorm, my stomach furiously gurgling in response to the decision I just made. But it’s done.

Thirty minutes later, my digestive system gets its payback. I vow to never return to the stir-fry station, but I know I’ll be back, and my intestines will scream bloody murder yet again.

Taylor Snow is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at tsnow@dailycollegian.com.

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