Where to Eat? Nurture Your Nightly Needs

Maybe my readers would like a dose of Harvey Pitt on the hot seat in the wake of Enron, WorldCom, Xerox and Arthur Andersen. But then I thought, "Nah, where's the fun in that?" My job is to quasi-represent the college student, and the lack of summer protests in the Pit have not really given me much firepower for topics off-the-cuff. The normal zeal of covering the campus hot topic takes a nose dive along with the population of UNC during the summer.

With news canceled out and activities on campus limited to summer camps, CTOPs and angry summer-schoolers, I am forced to come up with a topic of my own. Tough job, but someone has to do it.

I've done the relationship thing, Internet interests, pop culture for children of the '90s and the great issues of sports this summer outside of baseball's pending contraction/collapse. What's left?

I was flipping through The Washington Post (Professor Yopp and Professor Stevenson, I know I should read The New York Times) when I came across an article on 7-Eleven's 75th anniversary celebration. Not the stuff of great newsworthiness, but it sparked an idea.

The article started off by saying how people stop by for late-night snacks and how 7-Eleven has been there for so many years for college students taking a break from studying or just random people stopping by.

Then, I thought, "I'm really glad I've never had to go to 7-Eleven for a late-night snack." As much as I love a quality hot dog, I cannot find the joy in dropping by a convenience store for "nutrition." Nutrition is the operative word.

I've spent my entire college career in Spencer Residence Hall, just a couple of feet from Franklin Street. (I know South Campus dwellers are jealous.)

Franklin Street has nurtured me through many late-night cravings and more than a couple of occasions when Lenoir did not have its usual zest. (Note the sarcasm in that sentence.)

This is my ode, minus the poetry part, to Hector's, Cosmic Cantina, Time-Out Restaurant and the many other eating establishments in Chapel Hill that are dear to my heart and stomach, sometimes. Imagine a world where I could not get fried okra and green beans or steak and cheese on a pita at 1 a.m. Scary huh?

The lines may back out the door on a Thursday or Saturday night, but that's just part of the atmosphere. It's all one great adventure as the drunk guys fight, the sorority girls sorostitute and the grease pops. Mmmmmm, grease!

It's OK because I am a starving college student and it will be burned off by the next day in the SRC or Woollen, if it's not gone by the time I get back to the room with my metabolism. It's a joy of being young.

Mom says that I should eat healthier, and she's always talking about food pyramids and such. That's why God invented Cosmic. Salsa is a vegetable, right?

But seriously, my life would be completely thrown for a loop if I could not pick up a chicken, cheese and salsa quesadilla for $4 on a Tuesday night. Not to mention the average clientele is not too bad either.

Is it just me or does that place have a cult that swarms from South Campus?

Next on my must-stop late-night meals would be Franklin Street Pizza & Pasta. Garlic knots and sauce are a meal within themselves -- a non-settling meal, but tasty nonetheless.

As I make my way up the north side of Franklin Street, I can't pass up Miami Subs. Try to eat mozzarella sticks on top of a chicken and cheese pita.

Can I get cheesecake on the side, please?

The fine eateries of Franklin Street are definitely deserving of space in a public forum willing to address their greatness. My column is just that place.

And last but not least, if its not too late, the Yogurt Pump. The Yo-Po. The Pump.

So I'm not a huge yogurt fan, but I have to stay true to my roots. Stop by and tell them Michael sent you.

I've got nine receipts and need one more. Holler at me at tompkins@email.unc.edu.