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Lunch Munch

Hudson Cooper
Posted 9/2/22

Spending summers in the area we called “the mountains” reached its conclusion on Labor Day. As a guest at one of the hundreds of hotels and bungalow colonies, it was a time to say goodbye …

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Random Thoughts

Lunch Munch

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Spending summers in the area we called “the mountains” reached its conclusion on Labor Day. As a guest at one of the hundreds of hotels and bungalow colonies, it was a time to say goodbye to old and new friends. 

I spent many summers waiting tables to make money for college. Learning the trade at the Grand Mountain Hotel in Greenfield Park, I eventually landed a lucrative spot as a waiter in the main dining room of The Concord Hotel.

Labor Day was a time to say goodbye to my tables of guests and hopefully collect a bonus besides the weekly tip. After all, it was an effort to make sure I wrangled prized end cuts of roast beef and remembered which patrons had food allergies. I also never hesitated to perform the usual request to bring an extra entrée “for the table.”

For school children who enjoyed those Catskill summers it was also a time to say goodbye to cheese blintzes and hello to pizza and Sloppy Joe’s. When the school year started it was time to partake of the cafeteria lunch. 

The concept of school lunch has changed over the decades. At the onset of the 20th century most children went home to eat during their lunch break. 

Those who had a parent with some extra money went to nearby cafes for a quick lunch before heading back to school. Some teachers had their students bring food items from home that were cooked in a communal pot to make stew. 

But as more parents began taking jobs, their children were left without a lunch option. Civic-minded groups helped by providing soup and crackers with a glass of milk.

Eventually volunteer organizations began providing lunch. For three cents a student could have hot soup, rice and a piece of bread. Some schools offered a sweet treat like an apple or a piece of pie for an extra penny.

The 1920s brought the beginning of the hot lunch. Schools offered boiled meats, creamed vegetables and bread to feed the students. Eventually, to provide a more nutritious meal, home economic teachers had their pupils prepare wholesome hot meals.

During the Great Depression, the government began buying surplus food from farmers to feed students. Peanut butter sandwiches became a favorite lunch item.

In 1946 the National School Lunch Act was passed providing funds for each state to purchase and prepare lunch for school children.

The 1950s, with the growth of television, made it fashionable for students to bring a meal from home in their metallic “Gunsmoke” and “Romper Room” lunch boxes. It was always a surprise to open the box to see what mom prepared. It also offered an opportunity to learn the art of trading.

 If you had your eye on the small bag of cookies your friend had, it might cost you a banana and your little thermos of apple juice.

As the decades progressed, programs developed to also offer breakfasts to students. Large corporations, like McDonald’s and Pepsi, jumped on the bandwagon. They offered a quick fix for schools to provide a lunch whether or not parents thought it was a “happy meal” with questionable nutritional value.

My elementary school provided a weekly lunch menu so that parents could decide whether to let students brown bag it or spend money in the cafeteria. I looked for my favorite that I pleaded to be allowed to buy for lunch. My tastebuds craved a Sloppy Joe sandwich.

Sloppy Joe’s got their start in Havana, Cuba when a bar owner, named Jose, produced an inexpensive ground meat, tomato sauce and onion sandwich to serve tipsy patrons. It made its way to the United States when Ernest Hemingway introduced it to his favorite bar in Key West. 

Since the bar’s owner was named Joe, the name stuck. It caught on as an inexpensive, easy to make meal in school cafeterias. To borrow a title from one of Hemingway’s books, a Sloppy Joe sandwich was not considered “a moveable feast.”

 But for this hungry seventh grader it sure hit the spot.

Hudson Cooper is a resident of Sullivan County, a writer, comedian and actor.

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