“Whenever people eat or drink together, it’s communion,” Thomas C. Foster wrote in “How to Read Literature Like a Professor.”

I have conversed with many cherubs over the course of a meal. The first week I was here I dined at Lulu’s, an oriental restaurant in downtown Evanston. I shared spicy chicken wings glazed in sesame sauce with my roommate, Leah Sheesley, of San Antonio, and several other cherubs. We used Lulu’s as a time to break the ice and form a fellowship.

We talked about everything from our expectations of the program to what we like to do in our hometowns.

It was over that meal I learned my roommate liked her hamburgers dry.

“Just meat and bread,” she said. “No mayo, no mustard, no lettuce, no tomato. Nothing.”

A key component of cherub life at the National High School Institute - Journalism is food. Without food we cannot continue to meet deadlines, interview subjects or stay awake during lectures. We often find ourselves eating beyond the allotted three meals a day. Some of us need an afternoon snack or some a midnight munch. Whatever the case, cherubs just need food.

Cherubs usually dine at 1835 Hinman for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The conversations we share are good, but they usually consist of us complaining about the lack of variation in the food choices.

However, when cherubs choose to dine out, the conversation picks up. There’s something about good eating that puts a smile on a cherub’s face and provokes him or her to talk about whatever comes to mind whether it’s a joke or a serious topic such as politics.

Some of our favorite places to feed our faces include late night snacks of frozen yogurt at Red Mango, Sunday brunch at Clarke's or lunch at Potbelly. Not to mention Starbucks which act as our journalistic drugs, but that deserves a story on its own.

The most popular place for cherubs to enjoy a big taste, relax and relate is Starbucks. This place became our home over the five week span.

Cherubs ran to Starbucks when we wanted to escape the agony caused by our trend stories.

I can testify that with the first sip of my grande caramel macchiato that all of my problems ceased to exist. And it was all for the love of a beverage.

Without sustenance, cherubs would not survive. Eating and drinking is our refuge, but that safety means nothing if it is not shared with a fellow cherub.

“There is a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk.”
-M. F. K. Fisher