Forever In My Heart

One of the hardest things I find about being a student is finding what to eat for lunch. I apologise to those of you reading this who are in gruelling, laborious 9 to 5 jobs, because you are probably extremely offended right now. However, please let me elaborate before you get your soldering iron out and start compiling parts for a letter bomb to blow my skinny tax dodging body to smithereens.

Financially, the meal between breakfast and dinner, I'm not going to call it lunch for it is rarely consumed between the hours of 12 to 1pm, is a logistical nightmare. You can compensate in the weekly shop for cereal, yoghurts, bacon, bread, and the vitals for a nice dinner but unless you happen to be in the right place at the right time for the Waitrose reduction smash and grab lottery, and successfully fight off a G8 summit protest like flock of Middle class mothers to pick up some cheap sandwiches, it is hard to organise.

Thus, food outlets on campus become pretty important. Sussex has, in my opinion, a rather sporadic few options for cuisine, and by that I mean largely in terms of price and quality, ranging from over-priced bollocks, to relatively alright food.

I remember in my first term at Sussex, it was after a 1 o'clock lecture on a Monday afternoon, when we decided to go and peer into East Slope Bar to see if we could catch some food. What I discovered that day was to shape my University food-consuming experience forever. A very friendly Caribbean lady was standing behind a school canteen style series of trays, laid out on one of the tables in the bar, I think. There was a small sign dictating the menu, which changed on daily basis; variety is the spice of life after all. Jerk Chicken, Jollof Rice, and Jambalaya all featured upon my first visit, and I opted to try the Jerk.

Due to the fact that the food was absolutely fucking incredible, I went there fairly often, and this became a permanent fixture in my life when, in the Spring Term, the Caribbean food became a resident at East Slope, entitled the Cotton Tree, served every day from 12-4. I cannot explain how good the food was, for my tastes anyhow. A Falafel Wrap was introduced to the menu, which I usually divulged in when I wasn't feeling overly hungry, and this was my personal favourite. A perfectly sized portion, leaving you extremely satisfied. Fresh coriander, lemon, salad, these kind of deep fried pitta bread sticks that are perfect for hummus dipping, and the best falafels I have ever tasted all featured in a universally sexual plate of food.

On days when I was feeling low, you know, a bit down, and I was really fucking ravenously hungry, I would go for the Jerk Chicken, and quite understandably leave East Slope Bar feeling really, really happy. The marinade used on the Chicken was incredible, and we have since tried to replicate that same soulful taste at home to no avail, with a variety of different jars and pickles from Taj, our local ethnic food supermarket. Served with shit loads of sticky rice and 'peas', fried plantains and a bit of salad, this meal did not only taste insanely good, but it would also fill you up. Loads. All for five pounds. The final part of my review, (this isn’t a review), shall be dedicated to the chilli sauce that was an option for any meal. I would happily trade in a member of my family to have that taste at my disposal in the kitchen at home.

“Whats his point though?” “Why is he writing this in the past tense?” “I’m bored!” “Henry Degnin’s a wanker!” I understand these things may be going through your heads right now, but hear me out. I am going to call this an obituary, due to the fact that, to my utmost displeasure, there is no more Caribbean food at East Slope Bar. A friend of mine and I, who also happens to enjoy the foods of The Cotton Tree, went to get some Jerk Chicken on Monday, as an end of term thing, you know, but the kitchen was closed. Thats odd, we thought, nothing out of the ordinary, we thought, it happens sometimes, we thought. We came to the conclusion that the kitchen closure was a consequence of a Sussex University embargo on plantains because of their opposing standpoint on Neo-liberal socialist values. Later in the week it would have to be then, we thought.

This never happened. It was on the train back from campus when my heart was ripped from my body and my soul was tossed into a whirlwind of emotional turmoil. One of my friends had enquired about the kitchen closure, and actually, the chef had walked out, never to return again. There is no more Caribbean food at East Slope Bar. Writing that sentence actually brings a lump to my throat. To compound my eternal misery, East Slope are allegedly bringing in chefs from 'Food for Friends,' a pretentious restaurant in the lanes that won an award from the Guardian as 'the best place to eat for under ten pounds in 2008.' It may of been 2007. I'm not sure, but the point is, it’s now 2009.

So anyway, I guess this is farewell to my tour de force of wholly angelic Caribbean cuisine, and hello to a purgatoric tidal wave of unleaded jacket potatoes, pulses and a shit load of Ptitim, or whatever the hippies eat these days. Wait, there shall be no Ptitim, for it is actually an Israeli cous cous, and thus banned from our campus. Great.

I hope one day all of you shall taste the food that I tasted throughout my first year at Sussex University, because it was really really really really nice.
Farewell.