I've been pretty pissed off lately — maybe it's the cold Boston winter getting to me, with its howling winds and rainy nights. The steep walk up the President's Lawn to Olin Hall for my 9:30 a.m. German class hasn't helped either.
But a couple weeks ago, on a Saturday night, I realized what had really been bugging me all along.
I had just emerged from a grimy frat basement, hopefully disease−free, and I was consumed by a terrible hunger. Standing on Professors Row, I scanned the street for the familiar sight of Moe's Hot Dog Cart on the corner of Packard Avenue. I could almost taste the juicy, delightful Italian sausage that would soon hit my taste buds. I could smell the onions and peppers slowly grilling. I bent down and felt within my sock to make sure that I had $5 strategically placed there.
Yet, to my dismay, the red cart was nowhere to be found.
You may be upset that someone who claims to be an expert on sandwiches would recommend a hot dog or hamburger from Moe's, which is clearly not the most fresh or healthy dining option for a Tufts student. You might accuse Moe's of exploiting drunken students for its own monetary gain.
You could say, "Hey Ben, if a hot dog is a sandwich, and a burger is a sandwich, is a taco a sandwich too? I mean where do you draw the line? Maybe you should start calling your column ‘Between the Buns.'"
All of these objections are fair. But all I can say is that when I am craving an Italian sausage from Moe's, which is almost always on a Friday or Saturday night after midnight, I am usually in a state in which these sorts of concerns fade away.
For Tufts students looking for a late−night snack, one factor reigns supreme: convenience. It's the reason why a quick tour around a freshman dorm at 2 a.m. on a weekend is filled with sightings of Pizza Days boxes. While few would argue that Pizza Days is actually tasty in any way (I liken its taste to that of melted plastic on top of cardboard, with grease poured on liberally), it is easy to order, and has very fast delivery times.
But eating at Moe's is different from ordering Pizza Days in many crucial ways. When I went to Pizza Days for the first time, I saw a place devoid of personality; a faceless factory.
Moe's, on the other hand, does have a face — in fact, it has two. The outgoing bearded man serving the food and charging customers exactly $5 for anything on the menu is Sammy, while the more mild−mannered Moe stands in the background, making sure that all of the cart's machinery is in order.
Moe's offers a convenient late−night option that actually tastes good and that is served by two men who clearly enjoy being at Tufts. When I talked to Moe and Sammy once while ordering food, the ground was icy, and a soft drizzle rained down upon the red cart. Yet Moe still seemed in good spirits, as he told me about why he enjoyed setting up the cart here on campus. It became clear that they would never aim to exploit us, but instead genuinely enjoyed seeing the satisfied looks on their customers' faces, especially if the customers were Tufts students.
At the end of our chat, Sammy offered me a free hot dog and helped me pick out some toppings. I settled on some ketchup, mustard and a dash of spicy tomato relish. I realized then that I could never in my right mind order Pizza Days again, not when I was presented with such a superior option.
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Ben Kochman is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Benjamin.Kochman@tufts.edu.
