With only five weeks left in my first year at Harvard, I’ve begun reflecting on the people and places that have made Cambridge feel like home. And surprisingly, despite everything that Harvard University Dining Services lacks (which is…a lot), Annenberg—affectionately known as ‘Berg’—is one place I know I will miss.
Dining hall culture is a cornerstone of freshman life at Harvard. Coming from a family that centers food around pleasure and connection, I knew that transitioning away from home-cooked meals would be challenging. Unfortunately, HUDS food standards didn’t exactly make that transition smoother—my new friends and I were greeted with pink chicken, scavenging rats, and still-frozen cucumbers. That said, looking past the endless possibilities for complaint, Berg has been a central part of my first year at Harvard.
Its towering Gothic architecture makes it truly unique to the freshman experience all on its own. If you ever take a second to glance up from your tray, you can’t help but be struck by the grandeur and beauty of the arches and stained-glass windows of Berg—it truly feels like eating at Hogwarts.
But what makes Berg special isn’t the food or even the building—it’s the people. As a first-year-only dining hall, Annenberg is where friendships begin. During our first few weeks, PAFs encouraged their PAFees to be bold about sitting next to new people, taking advantage of the concentrated space of other first-year students looking to make friends. I look fondly back on the first weeks of school, as my new friends and I openly approached anyone who dared to make eye contact with us in the Berg lanes—a luxury that no longer feels socially acceptable after winter break, as friendships solidify. In doing so, I met so many new people—people I may not have met if we were not all forced to eat in the same place, many of whom have since become my closest friends.
“I don’t think there’s any other place on campus for first-years to meet each other like in Annenberg,” Ashton Bryant ’28 said. “I think all of the first semester, I was comfortable going to any table and sitting down and talking to people. And I think because of that, I’ve gotten to know so many people.”
Bryant, who’s from Australia, recalled his first American Thanksgiving in Berg last semester. “I liked when they did a Thanksgiving setup with the decorations, and [my friends] Dutch, Ben, and I took a little photo. That was pretty cool because I’d never done Thanksgiving before, and we sat for the photos, like a family photo.”
As someone who eats at Berg nearly every day—three meals a day, seven days a week—he opts to take advantage of the dining hall’s social connection, which many other freshmen forfeit for other River House dining halls or the diverse food options of Harvard Square.
“[Annenberg is] much more quiet than it was in the first semester,” Bryant said. “I think people probably are a little bit fed up, so they’re not going.”
Still, for those who stay, Berg remains a hub of community. Kerry Mariato, who has worked at Berg for almost 22 years, reiterated its importance to the first-year experience.
“It’s crucial that the first-year students…understand the importance of coming here and eating and sitting down and just socializing.”
Mariato spoke with pride about the team behind the scenes. “Berg consists of 80-plus workers. They’re all of different backgrounds, with diverse individuals who, day in and day out, strive to make the meals for the students… It’s remarkable, right?” Over the years, he’s held a variety of roles including Lead—overseeing daily operations and staff training—, Pantry Steward, and General Services. He’s watched countless freshmen grow into their space.
“You guys are bonding and networking with each other—it’s just fascinating to observe,” Mariato continued.
“It seems to me that at Berg, the students are in a rush for the first four months,” he described when asked about student dynamics he has witnessed. “And then, right after the winter break, you see them more calm, more comfortable, but by the time they get comfortable, it’s time to go.”
I’ve felt this shift myself. Just as I have come to appreciate the community Berg offers—especially the camaraderie with those that I rarely see outside of the dining hall—I am faced with the daunting reality that very soon these spontaneous interactions vanish as we all move into our separate upperclassman housing. I will need to make a real personal effort to retain many of the relationships exclusive to Berg, and I’ll no longer be able to rely on catching the eye of the smiling faces of friends from my seat at table B-7. The loss of this environment could very well mean the fizzling of some of these friendships.
Of course, the end of Berg marks more than just a dining transition—it’s also the end of freshman housing. As a devoted Pennypacker resident, I’ve come to see many parallels between the communities fostered by these first-year-only environments. The Berg community is much like the Pennypacker community: bonded over something that is lacking—good food in the former, and proximity to the Yard, Science Center, and Harvard Square in the latter. But it’s those minor, shared grievances that quietly stitch people together.
Lately, I’ve gained a new appreciation for the almost daily interactions with the familiar faces I pass on the way to the drinks station, the people I never became close with, but who still made this year feel full. These relationships, no longer organically facilitated by Berg, are the ones I’ll miss most.
Being from New York, I came to Harvard knowing a sizable group of people. Berg made it possible for me to branch out from this group and become friends with people from vastly different places and backgrounds—a skier from Alaska, an artist from Ukraine—whom I otherwise may not have encountered during my time at Harvard. In my sentimentality, I’ve started to let go of my grudge against HUDS food and instead savor the time we have left together.
Soon enough, we’ll be scattered across our new Houses, forging new rhythms. I’ll be at Quincy, home of the (objectively superior) hot breakfast, ready to find new connections—but I’ll always carry a little Berg with me.
Mia Wilcox ’28 (mwilcox@college.harvard.edu) hopes to see everyone in Quincy d-hall for hot breakfast next year.