Sitting at a table in the second floor Ackerman food court,
working on my chicken burrito especial from Rubio’s, I
imagine what it is like to taste the fruit of the gods.
I envision Mt. Olympus ““ the Westwood Room and its
training table meals.
See, every day at lunchtime I watch satiated athletes stroll out
from a room behind Rubio’s, happily holding their filled
bellies, smiling, obviously having sampled sweet ambrosia.
What is the root of all this happiness? It can’t be
pleasure over great pass protection or special teams play.
No, when a satisfied football player like Marcedes Lewis or Tab
Perry emerges from the cozy nook that is the Westwood Room, he has
had his fill of the training table meals that athletes receive
every day for lunch ““ I imagine it is kind of like eating at
Le Dome or Valentino’s (you know, French waiters with thin
moustaches and thick accents, and high priced wine lists).
This is probably how it plays out:
Jacques the waiter: Hey guy, great game!
Football Player: Why thank you, Jacques. Tell me, what are your
specials today?
J: Today we are serving a wonderful chateaubriand, which is
simmered in a rosemary garlic sauce served on a bed of spinach with
an apple chutney garnish. The other special is osso bucco served
with an arugula and squash reduction, with a side of asparagus
risotto.
FP: I think I shall have the osso bucco. I’m feeling
rather saucy today.
J: Excellent choice, sir. I recommend the 1999 Alexander Valley
Cabernet Sauvignon; it would go nicely with your selection.
FP: Jacques, that would be phenomenal.
So, there’s the football player, sucking the marrow out of
his veal bones, and I’m making do with my burrito (although,
you can’t fault Rubio’s; it’s pretty
sophisticated for fast food ““ I definitely detect a pleasant
hint of thyme in the burrito’s chipotle sauce).
I imagine the Westwood Room in all of its splendor: linen
napkins, attractive maitre d’s, and waiters inquiring as to
whether I want fresh parmesan and cracked fresh pepper sprinkled on
everything.
I needed to see what it was really like, so I asked for an
invite, and the athletic department obliged. My liaison for this
culinary extravaganza was Randy Taylor, director of football
operations.
The Westwood Room is sparsely decorated, but let’s face
it, all that really matters is the food.
A sign that marks the entrance to the partitioned room reads
“sorry, this section is closed.” Clearly, the Westwood
Room caters to an exclusive set.
Upon entering, I learned that the training table meals are set
up buffet style ““ which shattered my misconception that the
dining area featured a polite waiting staff.
My first plate of food included a delectable fusilli pasta dish
that had a light tomato sauce and was liberally laced with shrimp.
The shrimp were fresh and tasty. I also enjoyed a mild, baked
salmon that had a trace of dill. However, the cheese lasagna was
overcooked and rubbery.
I sat with Taylor and two members of the football team ““
sophomore offensive guard Eyoseph Efseaff and sophomore offensive
tackle Steven Vieira, who were enjoying pasta and egg sandwiches,
respectively.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the courage to ask the two
athletes if they wanted to have a hamburger-eating contest or
whether they were interested in joining UCLA’s Competitive
Eating Club.
Each table was graced with carafes filled with milk, apple juice
and orange juice (did you really expect a wine list?), and as I set
a linen napkin in my lap I realized I should have tried out for a
sports team if it meant all of this extravagance.
“We are going to get you up to kicker’s weight, so
go get some more food,” Taylor said.
Stuffing myself at a healthy clip, I quickly made way for the
buffet line where I indulged in some breakfast fare ““ oven
roasted potatoes (excellent, very crisp), a delicious egg sandwich
and a banana smoothie.
By far the most fulfilling thing at the buffet was the Italian
sandwich I sampled. The textures of the proscuito, arugula and
buffalo mozzarella played off each other beautifully as the
sandwich exceeded all of my expectations.
For dessert I had a delicate chocolate éclair and a hearty
slice of apple pie.
More like a slice of heaven.
Walking through the food court the day after my feast, I yearned
for the delicacies of the Westwood Room. Sadly, the gates of Mt.
Olympus had closed.
Looks like it’s back to the burrito for me.