Clocktower Deli: A Deli in Name Only

I love a good deli. I’m from Jersey. I know delis. A real deli is where you walk in, order without hesitation, and leave with a sandwich that could feed a small village. The bread is fresh, the sandwich is stuffed to the point of overflowing, and the guy making it doesn’t have time for small talk. When you walk into a true deli, if you’re greeted by that no-nonsense, “I’ve been here longer than you” energy, you know you're getting something that’s good. So when I heard my campus housed Clock Tower Deli (or “Clock,” as referred to by students), I was excited but I had my expectations. Yes, Clock Tower checks off all the staples—cold cuts, salads, mayo, signature sandwiches—but what matters most is just not there. The food quality (meh), the vibe (non existent), and the efficiency (sometimes you’re in and out, sometimes you could write a thesis by the time you get your sandwich) all leave something to be desired.

Clock is less of a deli and more of a convenience store that also happens to sell sandwiches. It has that fluorescent-lit, grab-and-go energy, complete with overpriced snacks, a freezer section, and for some reason—raw sushi. A bold choice for a campus dining hall. You can grab a sandwich or some of the other meal options with a meal swipe which has a cash equivalency to about $10.50. For anything else, you’ll need flex dollars or real money—assuming you blew through your flex in the first two weeks of the semester. The seating area (a couple of tables with some chairs) doubles as a study spot, which means you might find someone writing a paper while you wait an unpredictable amount of time for your sandwich. It could be 30 seconds, it could be 30 minutes—depending on the day, the mood, the sandwich “artist” and, apparently, fate.

That said, I have my go-tos. The California Turkey Club (turkey, avocado, bacon, tomato, lettuce, mayo, on a french roll) is decent enough, and the chicken Caesar wrap is hard to mess up. But the real star of the show? The Ben & Jerry’s freezer. A towering, ten-foot monument to the only reliable eats thing in this place. No matter what happens, no matter how long the wait, I know I’m walking out with a pint of Half Baked.

My standards might be high when it comes to delis, critiquing the sandwich craftsmanship or hunting for the perfect pastrami; it’s how I was raised. At the end of the day, Clock Tower can’t be compared to the holy bread I have at home. When you're starving and on campus, it’ll do. We’ve all been there—late-night study sessions or running between classes when hunger strikes. As college students, gourmet options aren’t available or affordable. In those moments, it’s about filling that immediate need, whether it’s a quick snack or a meal that can hold you over until you have time for something better. So while it's not always ideal, it definitely serves its purpose. But let’s be clear: Clock Tower Deli is not a deli. It’s a campus dining hall with a sandwich counter. And if you’ve ever had a real deli sandwich, you know the difference.