Now, I see angry, union lakeys who just push out crap food that comes on a truck in *warmers*, that is shoveled at the kids .....who by-and-large promptly throw most of it in the garbage can.
Sadly, the sense of community is a thing of the past.
Posted on 10/07/2012 10:56:42 AM PDT by Daffynition
Annika Eriksson, a lunch lady at school in Falun, was told that her cooking is just too good.
Pupils at the school have become accustomed to feasting on newly baked bread and an assortment of 15 vegetables at lunchtime, but now the good times are over.
The municipality has ordered Eriksson to bring it down a notch since other schools do not receive the same calibre of food - and that is "unfair".
Moreover, the food on offer at the school doesn't comply with the directives of a local healthy diet scheme which was initiated in 2011, according to the municipality.
"A menu has been developed... It is about making a collective effort on quality, to improve school meals overall and to try and ensure everyone does the same," Katarina Lindberg, head of the unit responsible for the school diet scheme, told the local Falukuriren newspaper.
(Excerpt) Read more at thelocal.se ...
I went to public hs in Chicago nw suburbs, from ‘63-’67, but we always had fish on Fridays. I opted for the fish sticks & tartar sauce, over the tuna casserole.
Don’t know if they’re available in your area, but you might want to try Aldi’s.
They’re a no-frills chain, and I probably save a solid 40% shopping there. All items are “house brand,” but most are quite good.
One example: 13 oz. tortilla chips, very high quality, $1.29. Doritos are usually $3.75 or higher.
The cafeteria is just mirroring the classroom. When I went to school (50’s), they taught to the highest intellects. Now they teach to the dumbest and they still fail.
Excellence punished. Liberals.
I lived in Sweden in 1972-73. There was a municipal cafeteria where the schoolchildren and adults - not sure if they were city workers or the general public too - had lunch.
That food was so good. I even learned to like blood pudding, and hold my fork in my left hand, but not to hold it upside down and loaded all the way to the handle.
She did not think the menu she was supposed to produce was nutritious enough for the kids so she would cook stuff at home and add it to their meals.
She did that for years. Nobody complained.
I was recalling that in those by-gone times, around certain holidays, magical breads, like chollah, , Babka, Irish soda and Cloverleaf Rolls would appear. All wonderful!
>>....she would cook stuff at home and add it to their meals<<
God Bless her...she’d be arrested today...for not serving food prepared in a government/OSHA inspected kitchen.
The sweedish link was sometimes giving me some issues. But here’s the link to the story in a couple of other places:
http://www.nationalreview.com/corner/329642/harrison-bergerons-lunchtime-andrew-stuttaford
http://www.upi.com/Odd_News/2012/10/07/Lunch-lady-told-her-food-is-too-good/UPI-65021349620464/
Now, I see angry, union lakeys who just push out crap food that comes on a truck in *warmers*, that is shoveled at the kids .....who by-and-large promptly throw most of it in the garbage can.
Sadly, the sense of community is a thing of the past.
This is satire, right?
Good grief.
oh baby.
One of my fave pictures.
Thank you
Hmmm. I would have guessed that the cafeteria workers in Sweden were all unionized and they would have put a stop to Eriksson making the rest of them look bad long before it got to this point.
Socialism in action - an equal sharing of misery.
When I was in elementary school it was in a small steel mill town in Pennsylvania. Most of the folks who lived there were descendants of immigrants from the late 1900s and early 20th centuries. As such the town was loosely divided accordingly. You had your German section, Italian, Jewish, Greek etc..No one seemed to mind and there weren’t
many problems.
The best part was school lunch. One day German, the next Greek, then Polish and so on. All cooked by these little old gray haired grandmothers of the kids in school.
When the bell rang for lunch you had to be fast on you feet or you might not make it to the cafeteria. Those lunches are perhaps my best school memory of the time.
My son goes to a very nice private college and if you are in a hurry you can grab something prepackaged. The label is stamped fit for human consumption.
How sad.
There is the story of the salt grinder:
Far away, long ago, the sea was a giant lake full of clear, fresh water. Two brothers lived by the sea on a cliff, each in his own home, one on top of the hill and the other below. Each brother began life with the same inheritance. One brother grew wealthy while the other grew poor. In those faraway times, salt was the measure of wealth. Salt was rare because it was transported from distant lands. Salt was necessary to preserve food because refrigerators hadn’t been invented. Salt made food tasty. The richer someone was, the more salt he used.
Each morning, the poor brother walked along the beach searching. One day, his toe scraped a hard edge in a big sand-hill. He dug away the sand and uncovered a large salt grinder. A tiny rock of salt remained in the chamber. He raced home and plonked the mill onto the kitchen table and began to turn the grinding wheel. The wheel refused to budge.
“Broken!” he grunted. He leaned on the handle to twist the wheel. “Come on, grind!” The grinding wheel turned on its own. Salt poured from the mill and streamed onto the table. His hands scooped up the precious salt, salt he could trade at market. The poor man laughed at thoughts of a full cupboard and a crackling fireplace. He scooped the salt into a bag. “Salt enough for everything I need. “ He tried to halt the turning salt grinder, but the wheel kept turning and the salt pile grew larger and larger. He shook the grinder. “Oh, please stop.” The wheel stopped.
So it was. Each market day, the grateful man held the salt grinder over a basket. “Come on, grind.” Salt gushed filling the basket until the man repeated, “Oh, please stop.”
Each week, the rich brother opened his shutters and saw changes at his poor brother’s house. First a goat appeared, next a cow, finally a pig grazed in the yard next door. Curiosity pulled the rich brother downhill.
The rich brother asked. “I’m pleased as punch that you’re doing well! What’s your secret?”
The humble brother removed the mysterious salt mill from the shelf.
“Watch this! When I say “Come on, grind!” the mill pours salt. And to stop you must say “Oh, please stop!””
The rich brother begged “May I please borrow it for one night?”
“Of course you can!” came the reply.
In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, the rich man was out the door grasping the salt grinder. He scurried uphill and plunked the salt grinder on his table. “Come on, grind!” He shouted as he dragged a bucket under the salt grinder. He raced through house and barn gathering buckets, bushels, baskets and cans. Brimming containers soon filled the rich man’s market wagon.
The hall clock chimed twelve. The wagon was full. “I’ll get gold for that lot tomorrow.” He smiled. “Brilliant! Now stop.” But the salt kept flowing. “Good enough! Stop!” But the grinder kept turning. “Stop!” he yelled.
Salt poured onto the table and spilled onto the floor. The man rushed for a container, but his greed had left nothing in reserve. Salt continued to flow. Salt streamed into the parlour and covered the couch, the piano, and the pictures on the wall. Salt flooded every room. The foundations strained to hold the house and finally broke.
The house rolled downhill into the ocean and salt still gushed from the mill. Salt burst the front door and poured into the sea. White clouds of salt billowed underwater. The sea passed it from one wave to the next. When the salt reached the rivers, the rivers pushed back. The marsh grasses of the deltas fenced in the salt, protecting the fruit and flowers blossoming inland. Fish couldn’t swim upriver and died or changed unrecognizably. Nests were burned by the harsh crystals.
Even today, the rivers push the salt water back to sea in the marshland and river deltas, protecting the upper river and the inland lakes from the salt and keeping them clean, clear and fit for life.
Which just proves that if you keep taking from someone who has nothing you will end up with nothing yourself.
This is in Sweden... coming here soon.
God bless her!
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.