12 Houses, 12 Eggs, One to Two Stomachs
The ultimate challenge. Waking up on Sunday morning. To eat 12 eggs. In each of the 12 Harvard Houses. In one to two hours. Follow one to two flyby writers as they attempt this at the cost of everything!
Egg prices are at an all time high. Brunch is the best meal on campus. The HUDS meal plan costs entirely too much. I get really hungry on Sundays at noon.
All of these facts lead to the same conclusion: knowing which House has the best eggs at brunch is crucial to having a successful Harvard experience!!! So, this past Sunday, I, Carly Y. Chen, spent approximately two hours trying scrambled eggs at every single River House. Wyatt G. Croog, my wonderful co-author, focused on the Quad Houses. Together, we have created the first and only list you will ever need to decide where to eat on Sunday mornings, even if Housing Day says you must live somewhere else!
Mather
Not to suggest that Mather usually fills me with disappointment, but I was EXTREMELY EXTREMELY surprised by how good the eggs were at Mather. They were fluffy, soft, and visually pleasing. The flavor was nothing special (standard premixed liquid egg flavor) and needed a bit of salt. I could imagine them being very good on toast. I’m pleased to definitively say that even after trying the other dhalls, this remains one of my favorite eggs.
Unrelated but necessary: the frittata. DISGUSTING.
Dunster
These eggs… were disappointing. They suffered from what I call “wall syndrome,” an incurable affliction where unstirred eggs look unbroken and “wall-like” instead of scrambled. This also meant they didn’t look great on the plate. Nonetheless, they were tender, not that crumbly (probably because its unfortunate structure lent it great strength), and had a decent flavor. Think of hotel eggs with the texture of the egg in a McDonald's Egg McMuffin.
Leverett
At this point I was a bit tired of eggs, hence the tater tot. Anyways, Leverett, while my home and my love, lacks quality in the egg department. They usually suffer significantly from wall syndrome and often need sauce or salt. However, I think the Lev HUDS workers must have sensed this article coming, because the eggs were actually quite good! No seasoning required to make them taste eggy, and they didn’t suffer from their usual wall shape. Unfortunately, however, they were slightly overdone — a bit crumbly.
Winthrop
Winthrop, Winthrop, Winthrop….Do NOT be fooled by the indifferent face my eggs and bacon are making. Not only does Winthrop’s dhall stink, their eggs SUCK! For starters, they were tasteless. Furthermore, unlike the stereotypical wall problem, the eggs were instead broken into unusually small pieces. And their texture — like pebbles covered in water and stuck with dried mud. What was happening here.
Lowell
These eggs were alright. Reminiscent of Mather, they had decent flavor and decent texture, and looked pretty good. There were a few slightly dried out parts, but I think the eggs had been set out for a while. Nothing crazy, good, or bad.
Interlude
At this point, I was beginning to lose my mind. Proof, courtesy of what I wrote in my notes app on the way to Quincy:
“I hate eggs. The taste lingers in my mouth. Someone I ran into said that HUDS puts laxatives in the eggs(????) what if I die?”
Quincy
Quincy eggs, while not a mystery to most, actually were to me. But, after trying them, I understood why Quincy lives by their hot breakfast; they were easily the best eggs of all the houses! They were “wetter” than the traditional HUDS egg, but in a custardy, restaurant brunch way, rather than Winthrop’s questionable and highly disconcerting way. Additionally, they were the only eggs with distinct pepper flakes in them. Therefore, understandably, they were delightfully soft and tasty. A solid bit of eggs that revived me from my delirium.
Adams
Unfortunately, the wall syndrome struck once again. Luckily, the flavor was alright, but this actually quite disappointed me since Adams had once given me the best eggs I’ve tried while at Harvard. I would rank this about equal with Dunster.
Eliot
Wow, can you believe that this is my eighth egg? My stomach can! I did not get much of this egg and felt I needed a piece of potato as a palate cleanser. The person sitting down the table from me was very nice about averting his eyes from my plate, so he didn’t get to see how unimpressed I was by these eggs. Wall-esque and sad. Mediocre flavor. Next House!
Kirkland
This was going to be my actual breakfast stop, so please excuse the non-egg components of my plate. I was quite thankful for these aspects, as the Kirkland eggs were a bit cold, a bit too broken up for my liking, and a bit hard. Overall not that great. A slightly sad end to my egg journey.
To continue your journey through the HUDS-verse eggs is now Wyatt G. Croog, here to tell you about the Quad eggs!
Cabot
Of the Quad Houses, I was most curious about how Cabot would rank compared to its neighbors. Sure, Cabot has community. It has a great café. Cabot has… vibes? But after extensive research (and standing at the buffet making eye contact with the eggs’ consistency for too long), I can say that they (sort of? maybe?) have eggs. Were they good? Who’s to say? Are they consistent? Hell no, every bite was a new flavor. But they do exist, and in a world of great uncertainty, that is what’s important.
Currier
Stepping into Currier, I was immediately enveloped in its foresty charm — one singular tree stood tall in the middle of the dhall, showcasing that at least one House cares about sustainability (ESPP majors, this is a big win). With my first bite of egg, it was as if I was teleported to a farm. I went into the barn and collected what my free-range, organic-fed hen had laid, cooked it perfectly, and this was the product. Immaculate texture, great flavor, and for a fleeting moment, I forgot I was in a college dining hall and not in a field of dewy grass. However, I did eat quickly — not just because the Quad scares me, but because I didn’t want to be entrapped in this mirage. I couldn’t let myself get too used to nice things, especially because I am NOT making the trek to the Quad every Sunday.
Pfoho
Walking into Pfoho’s dhall, it felt less like a dining space and more like I stumbled into some underground fight club. The eggs, much like the House, really gave it their best shot. I poked at them a few times with my fork, but as I sat there, trapped, with this yellow-ish architectural enigma that was called an egg, I wondered if I would ever escape this place. Was this a test? EGGSistential crisis in full swing, I downed the coagulation and I did the only logical thing — I fled before the flasher could show up.
And with that, Wyatt and I, with our one to two stomachs, have successfully tried every egg at every house. While the objective winners may be Currier, Quincy, and Mather, in my heart the winners are the eggs themselves. They can’t control how they’re made or who ends up eating them (or hating them), but they still work their hardest to feed us. (I will definitely only be eating Quincy eggs from now on, though).