Campus Life Is Alive and Well — and Running on Chicken Tenders

Every weekday at 8:30 p.m., something magical happens at Frist Campus Center. The steel gates of the building’s food gallery are raised, and the glass doors facing Guyot Hall are flung open to welcome hundreds of hungry Princetonians into the cafeteria’s warm embrace. Within minutes, shoulder-to-shoulder crowds form throughout the room, and friend groups eagerly occupy open tables. The smell of fryer grease fills the air, and the shouts of employees reading off order numbers grow deafening. Late Meal has begun.

For those familiar with Late Meal, it is as popular as ever — and an increasingly integral part of an underclassman’s food intake at Princeton. Every freshman and sophomore must purchase the unlimited meal plan, which, in addition to unlimited dining hall meal swipes and 10 guest swipes per semester, bestows its user two late meal swipes per day — one for “late lunch” and one for “late dinner.” Available Monday through Friday, each swipe grants students a $10.25 credit at Frist’s food gallery, which serves burgers, chicken, Asian and Mexican fare, salads, pizza, pasta, sandwiches, soft drinks, bakery items, and more. Many underclassmen use it as their fourth (or fifth) meal of the day.

Late Meal lore is as expansive as its food options. Class Day and Commencement speakers have professed their love of Late Meal (cibo sero, in one Latin salutatory address), and some credit the program to Texas Sen. Ted Cruz ’92’s years as a campus politician — though The Daily Princetonian traces its origin to a 1993 initiative by Campus Dining called “Late Show.” Since then, Late Meal has seen the coming and going of an avocado burger, all-day breakfast, and countless USG campaigns. It has been the subject of memes, hangry athlete discourse, and controversy over the program’s nonexistent weekend hours. Throughout its history, Late Meal has served as something greater than just a place for students to get a quesadilla, though. In my experience, it’s a cornerstone of community-building.

I wanted to see if others felt the same way. On one brisk night, I strolled into Frist around 8:45 to get my usual, chicken tenders and a hot chocolate. After checking out with my favorite cashier, Vonetta, I scanned the packed cafeteria and the typical Late Meal scene: friends from every residential college, every club, and every community coming together. These were busy people from all over campus simply taking a few minutes to unwind, enjoy a burger, and celebrate a hard day’s work. It resembled a cheery dive bar with someone from every walk of life. It was fellowship at its finest.

I finally found an open seat next to two of my friends from the rowing team. As engineering majors and varsity athletes, these guys didn’t have much time, so for them to be spending it here was a big deal. I asked them if they too felt Late Meal’s impact.

“Absolutely,” said Yash Iyer ’27, putting down his cup of Greek yogurt. “It’s just so ubiquitous in every Princetonian’s life.”

Alex Gao ’27 interjected between bites of his chicken sandwich. “It’s a shame that upperclassmen don’t get it for free. I don’t have much free time. You will still see me getting late meals eight out of the nine free time slots given to us every week.”

“Yep. No matter what my friends are involved in or how busy they are, this is the place that I will see them,” added Iyer.

Iyer and Gao agreed that many see Late Meal as a foundation for community on campus — at least for a student’s first two years. Still, many of the alumni I speak with seem pessimistic about the state of Princeton’s campus life. They worry that students have become too busy and too focused on their future professional lives. While this may be true, it is impossible to ignore the ways that community has persisted at Princeton — including the bonding and recharge seen at Late Meal. It may look different, but the Princeton experience is alive and well — and maybe best observed on a weekday night at Frist Campus Center. And did I mention the chicken tenders?