You are exhausted, a bit frazzled and most of all, hungry after finishing up a full day on campus. As you walk into the Chenango Champlain Collegiate Center, your eyes are immediately drawn to the ever-present pizza, loyally awaiting your return to the dining hall. You try to look away, but inadvertently come face-to-face with trays of piping-hot mac and cheese, the center bubbling and the edges browned.
These dishes smell great and taste even better, but you also can’t pretend that you haven’t seen the protests around campus demanding action for better food, the Food and Drug Administration regulation changes and Campbell’s vice president caught saying he wouldn’t feed his own family the companies’ products, as they were “bioengineered” and “came from a 3D printer.” If the people making the food don’t trust it, why should we pretend that we’re unreasonable for demanding better?
We attend Binghamton University in Upstate New York, so we are surrounded by farms, orchards, dairies and local growers who produce dairy, vegetables, apples and grains. But somehow, our meal plates are rarely piled high with fresh produce or a well-balanced spread. We still find ourselves staring down the same pizza and mac and cheese served in so many campus dining halls across the country.
These greasy dishes have become the staple. They have become the unspoken message that this is what student food is supposed to be — cheap, easy, comforting and, of course, low in nutrition.
A meal of mac and cheese has around two grams of fiber. College students need about 25 to 31 grams of fiber daily, so even a large serving is not enough and leaves them hungry again by 4 p.m. Add a soda, fries or dessert to that and you can easily hit 1,200 to 1,400 calories without noticing and lacking the nutrients you really need.
Furthermore, the ingredients read like a chemistry set — maltodextrin, sodium phosphates, cellulose, sodium propionate and dough conditioners. These meals are not made for nutrition, but rather engineered for cost, shelf life and scale.
Diets high in ultra-processed foods don’t just pile on calories. They hurt your brain and body too. Studies show that every 10 percent increase in ultra-processed food intake is linked to a 16 percent higher risk of cognitive decline, an 8 percent higher risk of stroke and an increased risk of chronic diseases such as type two diabetes, cardiovascular disease and depression.
And even if you’re thinking, “just one more slice can’t hurt,” the short-term effects of ultra-processed food consumption are just as concerning. For instance, a controlled trial published in the medical journal Cell Metabolism found that just a few weeks of mostly ultra-processed foods led to unhealthy fat gain, worse metabolic markers and deteriorated heart health, even when calories remained constant.
As you can see, my argument has very little to do with acting like a “food snob” and pretending to somehow be above pizza and mac. Honestly, I love them as much as anyone else. But loving something does not mean it ought to be the centerpiece of our dining system. When dining halls rely on ultra-processed staples, it amounts to an underinvestment in our brains.
And not every student arrives on campus knowing what a balanced, nutritious meal looks like. For many, college is the first time they truly have to make independent decisions about what they eat. But it’s hard, perhaps even impossible, for students to make better choices when they are presented as an afterthought, hidden away at the end of buffet lines or under faulty heat lamps.
Food is the fuel that powers every single late-night problem set, every lecture, every athlete’s practice, every club meeting. It is simply nonnegotiable.
Syracuse University partners with local farms. Cornell University has its own dairy operation. Other private universities in the region show that farm-to-dining-hall is not just possible, but normal. Even within our own SUNY system, this concept has achieved significant success. At the University at Albany, students pushed for locally sourced food in the dining halls and now, the university supplies “fruits and vegetables from local farms, as well as all pork and grass-fed beef” in its dining program.
So, why not us, then? Why are we still buying the bulk of our ingredients from massive national distributors when there are small farmers 20 minutes away who would love a partnership? Why does “fresh” so often feel like an exception instead of the baseline? If we’re serious about student well-being, sustainability or even supporting New York’s economy, then investing in better food is smart, local and, quite honestly, well overdue.
Economically, university dining halls and public school cafeterias operate the same way. Both are huge food-purchasing institutions whose budgets shape local supply chains. The scale may differ, but the principle remains the same; when a large institution shifts even a portion of its food spending to regional vendors, that money circulates locally rather than vanishing into national distributors.
Economists at Cornell analyzed a major farm-to-school program in Buffalo, the second-largest K–12 district in the state. After examining vendor invoices, economic outcomes and spending patterns, the researchers found that the program didn’t just work, it paid for itself, generating a return of $1.06 in GDP for every $1 invested. The study found only one caveat in this six-cent gain; it occurred only if local supply expanded to meet new demand created by programs like this.
Local food sourcing isn’t some idealistic gesture on behalf of the University, but a potential fiscal catalyst for the Southern Tier. Ultimately, the program in Buffalo led to exponentially higher purchases of local fruits, vegetables and beef, the exact foods students say they want but rarely find at their dining halls. And thanks to the Department of Agriculture’s 30% New York State Initiative, districts that commit to buying 30 percent New York-grown food receive significantly higher reimbursements, specifically 25 cents per lunch instead of 5.9 centsf.
It’s clear why other universities are starting to eat local. It’s financially smart, economically constructive and beneficial for students, farmers and the state. Let us finally be served with meals that nourish our bodies and respect our brains, all while honoring the incredible resources of our region.
Michelle Belakh is a freshman double-majoring in linguistics and political science.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.