Today's youth must learn the art of stale bread

We've spent a lot of time at TCU over the past 15 years, you and I. Much to the leadership's chagrin, many of these posts compare TCU to my alma mater, Ball State.

This week, TCU opened a new dining hall. Loyal Scaiaholics will recall I visited Ball State a few years ago with some classmates. While we enjoyed recreating our college radio show, I lamented the area around campus was being gentrified. Instead of dive bars and hot dog outfits that stayed open all night, they were building apartments with "bistros" and "boutiques" along the sidewalk.

TCU is also growing. I immediately began texting associates from Ball State to alert them.

"TCU is now serving students food made from fresh ingredients!" I warned.

One of the gentlemen brought up the place, Out of Bounds, that was on the first floor of our dorm, LaFollette Complex, freshman year.

"All the fried food with the same grease that was donated by General LaFollette himself," he recalled.

"I had so many mozzarella sticks there!" I replied.

But the dining hall at TCU seemed to be more focused on fresh ingredients. They made a point of explaining they wanted you to know what the dishes were made of, a departure from my day.

You could watch them cook. In early 2000s Ball State's defense, you could also watch them cook, it was just a different style. Above you can see them plating freshly prepared meats and produce; at Ball State, you could watch a gentleman grab a fistful of mozzarella sticks and hurl them into the basket above the fryer.

TCU was even baking fresh ciabatta rolls.

"These look like they were just cooked today!" I said, incredulously.

TCU hired a chef who was recognized by the James Beard Foundation. At Ball State, we would regularly see a line cook who, as we recall, had more than five fingers but less than ten. But he excelled at hurling mozzarella. He also cooked a strong grilled cheese sandwich featuring bread I'm sure had been baked the same month at an undisclosed location. Ball State just didn't brag about it.

We then fondly remembered how we'd adjourn to a corner of Out of Bounds, flip Jeopardy! on one of the TVs and play along.

There we see the similarities. TCU has a new dining hall, built as a large gathering place where students could build friendships. Loyal Scaiaholics will recall I've preached how kids just starting college might be nervous, but those friends you make as freshmen will still be part of your life 20 years later.

For the Jeopardy! comparison, our group had a couple students who were studying to become nurses. These ladies were always supportive, but they also questioned why we took the game so seriously. We, of course, would explain they needed to keep it down until the end or during that insipid Q&A section during the first round.

I'm just concerned if this generation keeps eating fresh produce and locally sourced meats, they won't learn how to solve their problems by discussing them at a dinner of "ingredients" deep fried to a golden brown.

You never stop learning, after all. Turns out LaFollette wasn't actually a general. That may help explain why we might play along with Jeopardy!, but none of us has actually been a contestant on Jeopardy!