The kids wouldn’t eat a bite of the rice. At least if there were a bottle of Tapatío or Sriracha or something. 95% of it wound up in the trash. I see the children carrying their trays at lunch and I want to weep because I imagine that this is what prison food must look like. This is at an elementary school in the SF Bay Area.
There’s a student teacher I work with, a retired Chevron engineer, who visited refineries in Korea. The kitchen has a metric: weight of discarded food. The higher the weight, the lower the kitchen salaries. Simple as that.