{shortcode-3246edef9f9e73444f16e141f869feaf1b563c60} In honor of the 2025 Housing Day season coming to an end, what better way is there to keep the Housing Day spirit alive than a House ranking sure to upset every undergraduate on campus? Here are the foods I think each upperclassman House would be and how many bites I would take of each. Yes, I thrive off of controversy. Cheers!
Adams
Adams, here’s a serving of brutal honesty. You are overrated, and although this food item seems niche, it encapsulates your House perfectly: a cheese fondue fountain. Sure, it looks presentable and grand, but when you start thinking about it, everyone touching the cheese and double-dipping quickly gets gross. Also, the cheese is such a hit-or-miss. Four bites.
Cabot
Cabot, I would have given you a vastly different meal just a couple of hours ago, but I just finished a deep dive into your Housing Day videos. I’m slightly obsessed with you now. However, you would be buttered noodles because, at the end of the day, you’re still Cabot. Six bites.
Currier
Normally, when people think of Currier, they think of another irrelevant Quad House, but you are slightly more than that; you have Rhodes Scholars. When I think of you, I think of successful nerds. You would be a mushroom omelet with quinoa. Omelet because you probably eat breakfast, quinoa because you’re better than me, and mushroom because… obviously. Five bites.
Dunster
It might be your House sigil, your fancy dining hall seats, or the unhinged emails about your Grille, but when I think of you, Dunster, I always relate you to the wild. If you were a food item, you would be something that requires hunting: venison (usually deer meat, but sometimes moose meat…). Cheers to cannibalism! Six bites.
Eliot
My freshman fall semester, I snuck into an IM volleyball game (representing Mather) and had the misfortune of playing against you, Eliot. Not only were you bad, but you ended up crying to the IM board (which is apparently a real thing?), demanding a victory because you thought losing to a freshman was unfair. Your food item would be rotten fish — no explanation needed. Zero bites for you sore losers.
Kirkland
Kirkland, when I think of you, I think of absolute limbo: neither good nor bad in any aspect. Because of this, you would be a food item that is always an option, but one I would only eat under dire circumstances like starvation or the utter lack of anything better: the ever-so-slightly pink HUDS grilled chicken. Three bites.
Leverett
An upperclassman once told me I should hope to get Leverett because there’s a good community there. What they failed to mention is that this alleged “community” speaks true to the House’s bunny mascot — meek, with a bland choice in snacks (as proven by your Brain Break). As a result, I’ve known what your food item would be long before I started writing this article: saltines. Two bites (three crumbs).
Lowell
Listen Lowell, I’m not here to blow smoke up your rear like every other House ranking ever. However, you are a staple of Harvard, so your meal should reflect as much. You would be the default above-average wedding meal with the facade of being “gourmet”: lemon garlic chicken. Still good, though. Nine bites.
Mather
I think of you in the same way that I do my situationship from the fall semester. Everyone gets mad when I bring you up, and I kind of forgot who you were after winter break. You were fun while you lasted though, just like your food item: a Taco Bell Cheesy Gordita Crunch. Four bites and a lot of regret in the morning.
Pforzheimer
Listen. Pfoho, I love you more than my blocking group wishes I did, but I must admit that you would not taste good. You would be a food that makes people go, “What’s that?” just like they do after you tell them you’re in Pfoho: a cold wedge salad with expired Caesar dressing. Two bites.
Quincy
A moment of appreciation for the famous Quincy Grille that has gotten me through many nights out. Containing a good community that is only relevant because of a grill, you, Quincy, would taste like a classic backyard outing: a nicely seared cheeseburger with crispy curly fries. Seven bites of the burger, two of the fries.
Winthrop
A House large in size but proportionally irrelevant compared to some of the smaller ones, Winthrop would be a dish for which bigger isn’t necessarily better: a bone-in roast beef far too big to finish. You’re pretty tasty, but you should probably start prioritizing quality over quantity. Six bites.
These all come from places of love, and I believe every House has good and bad parts (see, I’m PR trained, I swear). I had to keep it fair and uniformly insulting to everybody to make myself equally unwelcome in every House’s dining hall (which might cause me some problems because I got sorted into the one House with a notoriously stinky dining hall). See you next semester, Winthrop!