
As Mahdi Haseeb sat in an economics lecture during Winter Quarter, he made a mental grocery list for the way home: fennel, orange, pomegranate, almonds.
Seeing the leafy fennel stalks at Whole Foods reminded him of a salad his friend’s mom made a year prior. The Weinberg fourth-year would recreate it to serve with pasta.
For Haseeb, cooking offers both emotional and physical fulfillment. He “craves” a return to the kitchen after going a few weeks without a large undertaking.
“It transports me to this realm of creativity that previous to cooking, I don’t think I ever felt,” he says.
Haseeb estimates he spends about $150 in one week of buying meals, but he says he might drop that much on a single Whole Foods transaction. He admits staying on a Northwestern meal plan probably would have saved him money.
In their first and second years, Northwestern students are required to pay $2,827 per quarter for the open-access meal plan. After that, they can opt out or choose from six plans, with the cheapest at $266 per quarter for 10 swipes and $150 dining dollars — that’s $11.66 per meal. As the plans get more expansive, the cost per meal increases.
Students prioritize different aspects of their dining routines. Haseeb has discovered a passion for cooking. SESP third-year Joy Kang strengthens connections through sharing her baked goods. Weinberg third-year Alex Tobias stays on a meal plan for convenience. Below, these three students describe why their respective dining choices work for them.
The kitchen is his ‘realm of creativity’
Before going to sleep, Haseeb scrolls through articles debating the optimal water temperature for blooming saffron, the yellow-orange center of a crocus flower that produces an earthy-sweet tang and deep color.
Haseeb is careful about handling saffron, which costs $16 or $10 (for organic or not) at the Evanston Whole Foods and is the world’s most expensive spice by weight. But money is of little importance when he hosts a dinner party for friends.
He instead frets over the music he will queue (jazz or Lebanese artist Fayrouz), his table setting (neutral dishware and candlelight with garnishes matching the greenery) and the produce he will select (organic or not — whatever looks the freshest).
“There was almost an artistic element to having the ‘wow factor,’” Haseeb says. “The aroma, the look and then, obviously, the taste.”

Haseeb “unlocked” his passion for cooking after he moved off-campus and had to feed himself. Now, the four to five hours he sometimes spends in a silent kitchen transports him to a “realm of creativity.”
“I’m not thinking about my exams,” he says of his time in the kitchen. “I’m not thinking about the fact that I have to apply for jobs.”
Haseeb began with cooking eggs then branched out to Italian food. He mastered his creamy homemade pesto pasta, which he serves with cheesy garlic bread and a Caesar salad. Next, he tried recipes from his Palestinian roots.
“That’s when my spice cabinet started overflowing,” he says.
Growing up, Haseeb’s mom was “territorial about the kitchen.” She would hover when he tried to cook, offering to help before eventually taking over.
Early into Haseeb’s off-campus cooking endeavors, he would keep his mom on FaceTime for up to four hours as he replicated her maqluba, a chicken and rice dish served flipped out of a pot. Now, she asks him for pointers on making a juicy stove-top chicken breast.
“I had a bit of — I don’t want to say a crisis — about it, but it was weird,” he says of this role reversal.
When Haseeb was home for Ramadan in March, he was the primary chef behind iftar, the post-sunset meal Muslims eat to break their fast.
But Haseeb still defers to maternal wisdom. When researching how to cook with saffron, he came upon conflicting advice from Persian moms and classically trained chefs. He says he’s glad he trusted the moms.
The spice helped him recreate one of his favorite meals: Persian kebab served with yogurt, pickled red onion, rice and Arabic salad with cucumber, onion and tomato, and, to finish, chocolate chip cookies with ice cream.
Haseeb either spends hours making a family-style feast with a drink and dessert, or he heats up frozen chicken nuggets. He admits his cooking habits sound “deranged.”
But, he adds, “It was one of the very rare things in my life that happened under my nose. I didn’t even realize I was getting super invested in it.”

The queen of the banana chocolate chip muffin
Instead of rotting in bed, SESP third-year Joy Kang bakes banana chocolate chip muffins. She has reduced the process (bookmarked on her laptop) to 30 minutes while still achieving a fluffy texture.
“If you know me, you know my banana chocolate chip muffins,” Kang says.

She first made her “classic” recipe during the COVID-19 pandemic and was excited to get back into the kitchen when she moved off-campus. She now averages a batch a week, but she gives most away to classmates, coworkers and her church.
She admits she’s “kind of sick of” her muffins but she keeps making them for the feeling she gets from giving them out. This helps her avoid thinking about the money she spends on ingredients.
“Baked goods are one of those things that people can accept without feeling guilty or feeling like they owe you something,” Kang says.
Last quarter, she also began baking bread. She reasoned she doesn’t have to buy loaves if she can make them, but, like her muffins, it often disappears after only a day.
She recently made a loaf for Easter communion, then again a few days later for people in her church.
“It feels like an easy way to build community,” Kang says.
She now spends around $30 per week on groceries from Jewel Osco and Trader Joes — a total of around $300 per quarter, excluding her baking ingredients, which she buys piecemeal.
At least once a week, Kang gives into cravings and orders DoorDash. But generally, her kitchen offers a release from the daily grind.
“There are ways to just chill out, and the more productive way for me to chill out is to cook slash bake, and the less productive way is for me to just be in bed,” she says.

A fan of the plan
On days when Weinberg third-year Alex Tobias is on campus from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m., preparing lunch or walking 15 minutes home to eat would pile onto his already heaping plate.
So for the past year, he has been on the Purple 50 meal plan: 50 swipes and 50 dining dollars, cashing in at $774 per quarter.
“It’s not going to be the perfect gourmet meal, and there’s not always going to be exactly what you want,” Tobias says. But, he adds, “You can always make it work.”
Tobias was used to dining halls from his pre-Northwestern boarding school days. He now tries to use all of his swipes each quarter, but he doesn’t carry out OZZIs or Tupperwares for home. Instead, he cooks dinner three to four nights per week, saving leftovers for other evenings, and eats out once weekly.
For Tobias, a typical home-cooked meal is Trader Joe’s pre-marinated shawarma chicken thighs with roasted broccoli and polenta. In all, cooking, eating and cleaning takes 45 minutes to an hour.
“An hour, especially if you’re busy, is a pretty significant amount of time,” Tobias says. “If you go to the dining hall, you basically cut that hour out.”

Despite the convenience of on-campus meals, Tobias says he feels a bit “awkward” in dining halls as an upperclassman.
“They know I’m not supposed to be here,” he says of first and second year students. “But I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Everybody’s getting food, so I don’t think people are taking too much notice of you.”
Moving off-campus comes with the challenges of navigating a new dining routine. But whether a student hosts an elaborate dinner party, whips up a batch of muffins or cooks only when they choose, they often find that their kitchens open a realm of possibilities.
