LETTING myself into the dining hall, my nostrils were assaulted by the stench of overcooked broccoli and the tang of disinfectant.
I went round the tables laying out cutlery, even though many of the kids still didn’t know how to use a knife and fork properly.
Then I half-filled the plastic beakers with water – much of which would end up on the floor.
At the sound of the bell, there was the stampede of small feet, as 90 or so children charged towards the doors, while teachers yelled ‘walk don’t run.’
Despite the smell, the noise and the mess, I loved working as a dinner lady – or Meal Time Assistant as it’s now called – in my local primary school in the South West of England.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of the so-called meals I was required to slop onto the red plastic plates.
The pasta was slimy, the carrots were soggy, the broccoli was disintegrating, even the chips were weirdly spongy.
Although the school had its own kitchen, bizarrely nothing was cooked on site and meals were delivered from another school.
Only pupils in reception and years 1 and 2 received a school dinner, in line with government policy to provide every child in these years with a ‘hot, nutritious meal at lunch time’.
Older children had to bring a packed lunch, unless they were entitled to free school meals.
However, while the food was generally hot, the term ‘nutritious’ was debatable. Beige and stodgy might have been a better description.
Hot dogs, sausage rolls, savoury pastries, southern fried chicken wraps, chicken nuggets.
Many of the meals had all the nutritional value of a Happy Meal.
Of course, it was better than the children going hungry but I was concerned at the amount of ultra-processed food.
I try to avoid eating this stuff myself, so it was worrying to see it dished out in school.
While they were always given a portion of veg too, this invariably ended up in the bin.
Or more accurately, the floor and the wall next to the bin, since the kids were required to scrape off their own plates.
Something they weren’t very skilled at!
The NHS gives a number of suggestions and guidelines on their Chnage4Life website.
It didn’t help that the meals were delivered a good couple of hours before they were served – by which time the veg had turned to mush.
It would have made me gag, too!
As a mum-of-three, I know how difficult it can be to get kids to eat veg.
But I wish they’d been offered something more palatable, like cucumber and carrot sticks, instead of soggy greens.
It wasn’t all terrible, though. On Wednesdays, there’d be a roast, although this was frequently sausages rather than an actual roast dinner.
There was often a jacket potato option too, with a choice of cheese, beans or both, and this was probably the healthiest thing available.
On Fridays, it was chicken nuggets and chips, which was the kids’ favourite.
Not to mention, one particular teacher’s favourite too.
She’d mysteriously appear in the dining hall every Friday, then shuffle off with a huge plate of nuggets, chips and beans – way more than the kids were allowed – to eat it in the classroom.
However, the worst offenders were the desserts. Every day, there would be a full-blown, sugar-laden pudding.
Think: slabs of cake the size of an adult’s palm, mounds of angel delight, great dollops of jelly topped with lashings of squirty cream, choc ices and donuts the size of tennis balls.
I was shocked, not just that pudding was the norm rather than a treat, but at the portion sizes too, especially as the children were so young.
I’d always try to encourage them to eat at least some of their main course first, but as everything was dished out at the same time, this was often a losing battle.
And while they could have fruit for pud, what five-year-old is going to pick an apple or a banana, over a pink donut? You’ve guessed it: zero.
By the end of week, there’d be exactly the same number of bananas and apples as there had been at the beginning – just a bit more brown and crinkly.
To be honest, I wouldn’t have touched them either.
A couple of the kids had a packed lunch instead of a school dinner (I’m guessing their parents didn’t approve of the menu choices) but they’d still try to nick chips from the other kids.
One little girl always had an ultra-healthy lunchbox, packed with veg sticks, humous, an egg or cheese wholemeal roll and some fruit, with maybe the occasional small box of raisins. Never crisps or chocolate.
Then one day she was allowed a school lunch. For pudding there was pink angel delight.
It was like she was in heaven. I remember her saying: “I’m going to ask my mum if we can have this every day for breakfast!”
She never had a school dinner again.
Talking of angel delight, there was also the time a child pink-vomited all down the steps into the playground.
A teacher tried to swill it away with a bucket of water but unfortunately, this only created a whole river of vomit.
I had to draw the line when some of the kids thought it would be fun to spend playtime jumping across said river.
Cue: lots of vom splashing.
Despite the gross bits and the questionable food, I loved being a dinner lady, largely because of the children.
They were both adorable and hilarious.
I remember one time they were all doing penguin impressions in the queue, while waiting to get served.
Until a teacher walked in and told them off and instructed me to keep them ‘under control.’
I didn’t see the problem: they weren’t being naughty, they were just being children.
Admittedly, there were times it was verging on bedlam. Food was dropped, water was spilt and there was little volume control.
They’d argue over who was sitting where or who had the green beaker and even announce they ‘needed a poo,’ mid-meal.
Then there was the time they decided to have a random ‘who can do the splits competition’ in the middle of the dining room.
Every day was a whirlwind but it was also fun and rewarding. I loved getting to know all their different personalities.
Being a dinner lady, it didn’t matter to me if they could read or write or add up.
All that mattered was that they were kind to each other and this was something I tried to encourage. Along with eating at least three peas.
I worked in the school between 2019 and 2022, leaving only because I needed a job with longer hours.
But I will always have fond memories of my time as a dinner lady. Just not of the food.
