Eating with company

It’s simple to see why Hodgdon On-the-Run exists, and I’ve been thankful for its existence more than once. Can’t sit down for a meal between classes? Here’s an MGH. Lazy and want to leech off 9:45 p.m. leftovers? There’s probably an old brownie with your name on it. Want to peeve your Hodgdon employee friends? Ask them for a burrito.

The convenience and efficiency of a place like Hodgdon (well, save for peak hours and cluttered cashiers) are vital resources in the midst of hectic college days. What seems like a blessing, however, shouldn’t necessarily develop into a habit. Easy meals, wherever they come from -- your roommate’s fridge, that recital’s buffet, bedside snacks, etc. -- shouldn’t replace meals with some effort attached. In other words, easy meals shouldn’t replace communal ones.

I say “effort” even if it’s as lazy as sending texts to your few friends who may be willing to contribute to a potluck, or, lazier still, grab a round table at Dewick. Admittedly, I usually don’t put in even this modicum of effort. My weeks are filled with quick (and rushed to the breaking point) breakfasts and lunches and dinners with small groups of friends, sometimes.

I decided this would be my new project this week. I was going to eat fewer meals alone, less “on-the-run” and more catch-up-with-friends-I’d-been-meaning-to-see. You know, to let them know that I do, in fact, still care about them.

First I developed a simple grading method to quantify my progress. Every shared meal would be worth one point, every solitary meal would be minus one, and every non-meal -- those times in between classes when it’s just unrealistic to sit down anywhere -- would be zero. Additionally, if I ate with a group of four or larger, I’d award myself two points.

During my typical week, I estimated, I scored about a minus five. Yes, that bad. I had been eating most of my meals, obviously, alone. Many people, from nutrition professors to people I wouldn’t trust with a whisk, agree that eating meals in solitary confinement is bad for one’s health, physically and psychologically.

When people eat alone not only do they tend to eat more, but also, according to such prestigious nutrition websites as calorie count, they tend to eat unhealthier. The thought process goes like this: I can’t be completely honest about my biweekly M&M cups until I’m sure you’re just as bad ... or until I trust what you think of me. When alone, you self-regulate, and I think we all know what disasters can come from such independence.

If you’re one to read the backs of things, you’ll have found that to-go meals are high in fat, salt and calorie content anyway, which without strict moderation will do wonders for anyone’s sumo career.

These reasons weren’t why I undertook the challenge. If they were, I would have probably gone to the gym to supplement healthy living and failed miserably. The real reason was to rekindle and tighten friendships. So, did I improve? Here is the data:

Monday: two sit-down meals -- one with a friend. Tuesday: two sit-down meals -- both with a friend. Wednesday: two sit-down meals -- one with a friend and a few strangers, the other with a friend and a few of her suite-mates. Thursday: two sit-down meals -- one eaten alone, the other eaten during a meeting. Friday -- two sit-down meals, both with more than one friend.

My new score was plus four, a huge improvement from my typical week of minus five, which, to be honest, I’m still feeling a little shameful about. I won’t be so silly as to keep quantifying my sociability in the future, but I felt a positive boost in my relations with others, and that is priceless.