Can I have a moment to indulge in some school dinners nostalgia?
This morning, I read The Courier’s report on Tayside school dinners.
I saw the depressing photos showing the difference between expectation and reality.
And I found myself enormously grateful to have been a child of the nineties.
That period seems to have been the sweet spot for eating at school.
The food was plentiful and unsullied by the extensive nutritional requirements that governments would later introduce.
And maybe I’ve fallen victim to the romanticised glow of memory, but I absolutely loved school dinners.
I was eligible for free school meals. But my mum didn’t want us to endure the stigma that often came with claiming them.
So we coughed up the 50p or whatever it cost back then.
Luckily, the meals were worth every penny.
When school dinners called for second helpings
I remember hearty steak pies and stews, accompanied by an ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes.
There were fragrant curries, impossibly thin slices of roast beef swimming in gravy and huge baked potatoes that you could top with an unlimited amount of butter and cheese from the self-serve station (and a few strands of iceberg lettuce, if you were feeling virtuous.)
If you timed it well, you could ask for seconds.
The dinner ladies would always oblige if there was food left and you’d remembered your please and thank yous.
And there was always something sweet for afters.
There is no more beautiful image than a huge metal tray of sticky toffee pudding, or a generously-iced sponge cake covered in brightly coloured sprinkles.
Custard was one of our main food groups.
I wasn’t as pleased on the days when we were offered semolina with a dollop of jam in the centre.
But I ate it anyway.
I was a growing girl.
My daughter’s school dinners are a different story
I’m only 33. But whenever my wee girl tells me about what she’s eaten at school I find myself channelling my inner octogenarian and ranting about what it was like back in the day.
I’ve no doubt that the meals at my daughter’s school comply fully with the Scottish Government’s statutory guidance on nutritional requirements for food and drink.
They are also utterly soulless.
For the purposes of this column, I had a quick look over the rules for school lunches.
And I’m not at all surprised that the companies tasked with creating meals that fit the bill find it impossible to serve dishes like the ones I enjoyed so much at school.
If your school dinners didn't include cake and custard, we feel sorry for ya. Recipe: https://t.co/QZMrnC0jEn pic.twitter.com/IhCQ0grFfV
— Delish UK (@DelishUK) March 15, 2022
In the section about red and processed meat, it decrees that no more than 175g of red and red processed meat is permitted at lunchtime over the course of the school week.
At my school we probably reached that quota on mince and tatties day alone.
Every few weeks, my daughter gets disproportionately excited about the sad, dry plain muffin that they’re sometimes allowed for pudding.
Despite the fact that she refers to it as a ‘no-flavour muffin’ she’s still glad for the unexpected school treat.
Taste is of the essence during this cost of living crisis
Look, I’m not suggesting that we bring back Turkey Twizzlers and let kids guzzle full-fat Irn-Bru with their school lunch.
But could we maybe be a bit less puritanical about the nutritional requirements, for flavour’s sake?
I’ve started giving my daughter a packed lunch on the days when I know she’s going to choose a dry chicken burger and refuse to eat the floppy cucumber and peppers that are given alongside it in order to meet the requirement for two portions of fruit and veg.
But during this cost of living emergency, packed lunches aren’t an option available to many families.
For some kids, school dinner is the only hot meal they’ll get that day.
That it is tasty and sustaining is surely more important than whether or not it ticks all the nutritional boxes.
Conversation