The first time I came across a comment about Cleveland Commons on YikYak’s Whitman thread, I laughed out loud.
“God probably knew if i had the patience to wait for a burger at Cleve, id be unstoppable,” it read.
Thoroughly entertained, I scrolled on in search of similar content. What I found ran the emotional gamut.
Some comments adopted a similarly humorous tone to the first: “Saving money on Miralax w/ Cleave [sic] chicken.”
Others praised certain dishes: “save me Cleve garlic bread save me,” for example.
Still others were surprisingly vitriolic, airing passionate food service-related grievances: “@ bon app substituting my bacon and sausage with potatoes and vegan patties instead of just refunding me was CRIMINAL. i’m already lowkey low on flex dollars, y’all can’t be doing this to me. That sh*t got thrown away, the equivalent of like $10 irl.”
As much as the comedic comments amused me, these more negative posts truly grabbed my attention. It was no secret to me that Whitties harbored strong feelings and opinions about the food at Cleveland Commons. After all, I’d heard — and, I confess, sympathized with — comments from my peers on the food portions that they received (“I got scammed”) and their boredom with the available food options. I hadn’t realized, though, the degree to which these sentiments were ingrained into Whittie culture, or the potential that they were misguided — certainly lacking context, if nothing else. Our YikYak assessments, our casual remarks of exasperation while sitting down to meals at Cleveland Commons — they now appeared to me like symptoms of a much broader problem.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized what that problem was: That the operations of dining services at Whitman were largely a mystery to many of its students.
On any given day at Cleveland Commons, it’s not uncommon to hear a Bon Appétit staff member shout “corner” as they disappear into the inner kitchen facilities or catch sight of a black “Revolutionize the Industry” shirt donned by an employee. Posters populate the building showcasing Bon Appétit’s commitment to sustainability and culinary excellence with bold headlines like “Know What You Are Eating” and “we’d like to hear from you.” By virtue of repeated exposure, we understandably take these features of our dining environment for granted. What we lose out on in the process, though, is the meaning behind them and what they tell us about Bon Appétit at Whitman.
Bon Appétit Management Company (BAMO) (not to be confused with the “Bon Appétit magazine”) is a catering business that provides on-site food service to a variety of institutions, including colleges like Whitman. Based in Palto, Alto, CA, BAMO runs more than 1,000 cafés in over 30 states. It was founded by Fedele Bauccio and Ernie Collins, two culinary pundits who purchased Bon Appétit Catering in San Francisco and rebooted it with the goal of providing large organizations with quality, cooked-from-scratch meals. The company prides itself on being the first of its kind to embrace culinary sustainability.
To gain insight into how Bon Appétit operates at Whitman, I shadowed an Environmental Studies class’ expedition to Cleveland Commons to learn about Bon Appétit’s commitment to sustainability at Whitman. The class split off into small groups, each of which was led by a Bon Appétit staff member to a different area of the building.
I followed a group to the reserved space across from the ‘Grill’ station, where a long, wooden table awaited them, arrayed with four green plastic cutting boards, two large cardboard boxes of red grapes and two large colanders. A Bon Appetít sous-chef walked students through the process of destemming the grapes, which were to be used for the ‘Salad’ bar that night. Elsewhere in the Commons, groups shucked corn at the ‘Soups’ station, organized and consolidated foods in storage, and recycled glass and cardboard items. These activities were meant to give students an idea of the tasks that Bon Appétit staff complete on a regular basis — tasks that are unglamorous but nevertheless integral to the execution of dining services.
After each group finished its respective task, the class gathered at the ‘Global’ station for a cooking demonstration by Bon Appétit’s Executive Chef, Nimal Amarasinghe. To start, Amarasinghe gave students an overview of Bon Appétit’s use of fresh, local ingredients; then, he launched into the making of fried rice. Calmly displaying his cooking prowess, Amarasinghe sautéed diced carrots, onion and garlic in olive oil before adding mushrooms, rice, corn, peas and salt to the mixture. The students served themselves from steaming platters, nodding in appreciation as they enjoyed the treat with their classmates.
To supplement my observation of the class, Shannon Null, the General Manager of Bon Appétit at Whitman, gave me a tour of the back of the house at Cleveland Commons, a maze of kitchen facilities invisible to diners but at the heart of Bon Appétit’s operation. In each of the rooms I encountered, staff dashed about, immersed in their duties of food preparation, transportation of equipment carts and sweeping. As we walked, Null explained to me just exactly how Bon Appétit produces the sheer volume of food required to feed the Whitman community while ensuring that the process is sustainable.
On any given day at Whitman, Bon Appétit produces 1,700 meals; when BA caters an event in addition to feeding students, this number increases to about 4,000 meals, Null said. Waste is an unfortunate byproduct of this mass-scale cooking. Null said that Bon Appétit can only control so much of this waste: Once food goes out to students, it’s not up to Bon Appétit how food waste and other items like plastic utensils and to-go boxes are dealt with.
In the back of the house, though, staff can fully regulate what waste is created and where it goes, Null said. Vegetable scraps produced by Bon Appétit, for example, are picked up daily and delivered to various small farms. All leftover edible food is donated to the Christian Aid Center (more information about how BA manages its waste can be found here). Beyond food material, Bon Appétit recycles its own glass, which is not included on the list of items accepted for recycling in Walla Walla.
As General Manager of Bon Appétit, Null balances oversight of both the company’s sustainability efforts and its everyday food service.
“I ensure the entire operation runs smoothly and efficiently,” Null said. “I manage finances, purchasing, labor, expenses, standards and the relationship between [Bon Appétit] and Whitman College.”
Student-employees at Bon Appétit are essentially human microcosms of this relationship. To gain additional insight into the inner workings of Bon Appétit, I interviewed two current student-employees, Charlie Raskin* and Finn Davis.* Both are food servers and cashiers.
Davis offered a rundown of a typical shift at Cleveland Commons. After clocking in on the When I Work app, they prepare to serve food by changing into uniform, washing their hands, putting on gloves and setting up their station. Once service is over, remaining food is unpacked and the station is cleaned.
When I asked them about the highlights of their job, Raskin expressed appreciation for the connections they’ve formed through it.
“… all of the people that I work with are good people,” Raskin said.
Davis expressed a similar appreciation, noting the experience working in “high pressure” situations.
“I’ve … learned to work with different people,”Davis said.
At the same time, food service industry work is taxing.
“It’s a lot of work, physically,” Davis said. “A lot of people quit because of the physical aspect of [the job]. Mental strain is also a factor, since “people don’t get enough training, so they get nervous because of that.”
The 10-minute breaks that student-employees receive are especially suboptimal.
“Sometimes, that’s not enough,” Raskin said, especially considering that “… you have to be there, alert at all times.”
As the concerns of Raskin and Davis hint at, Bon Appétit is by no means a perfect company. Concerns among its student-employees, particularly surrounding its corporate culture that promotes anxiety and stress on the job, have been well-documented by The Wire.
Davis suggested several improvements that Bon Appétit could make at Whitman.
“It would make sense to pay students more, especially [because] you want them to return, right? … Or at least allow tips,” Davis said.
Davis continues by suggesting that a revised contract between Whitman and Bon Appétit could also be in order.
“[It] would give … student-workers more freedom, more breaks [and] higher wages,” Davis said.
Evidently, Bon Appétit has areas of strength and room to improve. As part of this process, Null, Davis and Raskin emphasized the importance of debunking common misconceptions that students have about college dining.
“When [you] think of corporate dining, a lot of times [you] think of institutionalized cooking,” Null said. “Food coming out of a bag, out of a freezer, not fresh, lunch lady vibes.” In reality, “All items are cooked from scratch with a batch cooking method,” Null said.
Raskin described the system of Bon Appétit.
“No one is ever trying to mess with you or charge you more or give you less,” Raskin said.
These misconceptions are inherent in YikYak comments, which mean well, but forget to consider the intricacies of food service and the dedication of its engineers.
“Ensuring our students are happy is the main reason we’re here,” Null said.
*Charlie Raskin and Finn Davis are pseudonyms used to protect the individuals’ anonymity.