I feel guilty admitting this, but I love the Crispy Buffalo Chicken Wrap from the Cage. You see, I became vegetarian in the eighth grade after becoming a fervent The Beatles and Paul McCartney (the best Beatle) fan. And now, I fear that I have failed Paul McCartney by eating meat again, though I still participate in Meatless Mondays. And to be honest, a big reason for the change is the pure joy of a Cage crispy buffalo chicken wrap.
The wrap is deceptively simple, consisting of cut-up chicken tenders, lettuce, tomatoes — which I omit — buffalo sauce, and blue cheese dressing in a tortilla. It comes with a side of chips and a pickle spear. While I theoretically could make the wrap myself, the assemblage by the Cage kitchen workers is artful. Nearly every bite is different without ever being too overpowering. The flavor balances well. The umami chicken is complemented by the vinegary punch of buffalo sauce that is never too hot, thanks to the creamy, slightly sweet blue cheese dressing. Lettuce makes for a satisfying crunch and cuts through the richness of the rest of the ingredients. While I am not normally a fan of plain tortillas, the blandness and softness of the tortilla make for a perfect vessel for the flavorful wrap. Pro tip: add some of the chips and pickle spear to the wrap. They add even more crunch and make the saltiness of the chip and bitterness of the pickle less harsh.
While I love the taste, my favorite part of a crispy buffalo wrap is the experience of eating one. They are too messy to eat and multitask. Eating one forces me to pause. They break me from the Ole productivity culture long enough to eat a meal with a friend and catch up or as a welcome break when I am too busy to make the Stav lunch/dinner hours. Right now, my favorite way to eat a crispy buffalo wrap is during final edits in the Mess Office. I get a break to read through stories not as an editor but as a reader, and it is a welcome break during the chaos of final edits, where I can unwind and chat with my fellow editors.
As I prepare to leave St. Olaf and ponder what I will miss, I am drawn to memories of eating Cage food with friends. In the locked-down era of my first year, it was a small moment of freedom in a time of signing up for dinner times and lunches six feet apart. And now, it will remind me of my work here at the Mess, too, and finding joy through food, both as a culinary and social experience.
