By James Applegate

SPENCER GRILL—“Do I contradict myself? Then I contradict myself. I am large; I contain multitudes.” Tarif Egpreis gives me a knowing wink. “And in the diversity of those multitudes, I’ve found real culinary beauty.” 

I had just asked Egpreis, the Spencer Grill’s new permanent Resident Innovator, about the inspiration behind the Grill’s new charcuterie bento boxes. Egpreis is the Grill’s first such Innovator-in-Permanent-Residence after the position was created last semester along with a similar position at the Global Café. When students returned to campus last fall, the price hikes at the Spencer Grill and Global Café provoked widespread fury and mass hysteria. But few are aware of the incredible return on investment that these prices have given us, which fund the six-figure salaries of both new Innovator positions.

The charcuterie bento box—the latest in a line of Egpreisian innovations including the spicy chicken bacon sandwich with slaw, the crispy chicken “Kappinator” sandwich, the fried chicken Harris secret special sauce sandwich, and the boiled chicken and chicken liver mousse sandwich on ciabatta with chicken blood au jus—is a significant departure from the majority of Egpreis’s professional oeuvre. “You know, yeah, chicken sandwiches are my comfort zone. But the incredible students here at Grinnell have really expanded my views on diversity and multiculturalism. I think the charcuterie bento box is the start of a new epoch in my artistic vision, and I’m really excited to see what’s next.”

The recent Grill policy around so-called “Grill water” was also Egpreis’s brainchild. In the midst of the flurry of additions to the Grill’s menu, I tell Egpreis that the new 50 cent water tax and the refusal to fill up students’ water bottles with the Grill’s luxurious, sparkling clear waters has been fomenting unrest in the student body. One student compared it to “the monopolization of natural resources” and “the commercialization of human rights to basic necessities” reportedly seen in “late-stage capitalism”. Cheerfully, Egpreis assures me that these are only the beginnings of his efforts to streamline the Grill’s customer experience and increase profit margins. 

What else is in store? After I ask, Egpreis assumes the posture of a Gilded Age robber baron and swings away from me in his office swivel chair, then begins quoting from Andrew Carnegie’s Gospel of Wealth.

In his moment of capitalist glory, I seize what looks like a list off of the top of a stack of papers and surreptitiously scan it. Jackpot: it’s a list of planned Grill policy initiatives. “$5 for WiFi / $2 for couch access / $1 for table access / bathroom is customer-only / P-Card turnstile at entrance for meal swipes / $5 for outdoor seating (when warm).” As if that wasn’t egregious enough, a subtitle catches my eye: “All-Campus Proposals (WIP): $0.25 for automatic door use / $10 for accessing professor office hours / $0.75 for hot water in the dorm bathrooms / $0.50 for dorm shower access / install anti-homeless features in HSSC atrium booths.” Gently, carefully, cleverly, I interrupt Egpreis in the middle of waxing poetic about the noble lineage of Starbucks CEOs: has he considered sharing his brilliant ideas with the administration?

“Yes, actually! They’ve been really enthusiastic that my ideas could help slow down tuition increases and subsidize more financial aid.” He launched into a dense monologue on economic theories that was so overwhelming that I found myself nodding along as he tried to fundamentally distort my perception of reality and make me think that this was anything less than a ideological religion of money and control that was masquerading as sound fiscal and social policy for the college to adopt—thankfully, a glance at the construction workers installing the Grill’s new turnstiles (“Just 75 cents!” Tarif says with a smile, as if I didn’t know from my investigative journalism) restores to me the full faculties of my autonomous human reason.