We’re in the middle of a season of celebrations and family gatherings, many of which are centered around food. I’d like us to take some time to think and write about our connections to food—memories, opinions, preferences, experiences. I can think of all sorts of directions this contemplation might take you…
Please write a piece of your choice inspired by food. The piece might be 300-500 words, any genre. I thought of a few ideas, but there isn’t really a wrong answer here, so feel free to shape this assignment however you see fit. This might take a really personal slant for you, or you can take a more observational, factual approach if that's more comfortable for you. Include an image. Please post your work by the end of class on Tuesday.
Just a few possible approaches:
a short essay re: the story behind a family food or tradition
re: what Thanksgiving really means
re: a person in your life who has shaped you through food
re: a childhood food memory
a longer poem re: a memorable meal
re: the scene in a kitchen
re: the scene around a dinner table
re: gratefulness (or lack thereof)
re: a childhood food memory
a recipe for an abstract concept
(love, disaster, family, the perfect Thanksgiving)
a letter to someone you’re thankful for
a letter to a cook you know and love praising his/her food
a letter to thank the host for all the work put into the family feast
a short story re: a Thanksgiving gone wrong
a short story re: an epiphany about thankfulness or appreciation
Some examples:
My own example (a journal entry written a long time--and several pounds--ago!):
Do I say this every summer? That this summer will be the one where I eat better and exercise more and return to school in August transformed, a beautiful, skinny butterfly emerging from the fat and happy chrysalis of the season before? Ah, for the days of never worrying about what I eat and what I weigh…
I’m not even one to talk or write about fitness or dieting much myself, and my husband makes both seem superfluous. He is naturally thin, with arms that bulk up just by doing a few pushups in the evenings. But after watching a video I taped Sunday of Macauley and his dad breaking in the new Slip n’ Slide in the backyard, Ryan declared he, too, is unsatisfied with the shape he’s in, so we invested in a large bag of frozen lean chicken breasts and planned a grilling menu for the week of veggies and protein. I even bought a pair of Fit Flops on ebay: miracle shoes that promise to tone my legs and glutes while I just walk around and do what I do. Sounds easy enough.
But on the way back from getting the charcoal last night, he looked at the clock in the car, noticed it was close to 8:00, and asked reluctantly, “Do we really want to drag the grill out this late?” I needed little convincing. Handling raw meat, especially chicken, makes me lose my appetite anyway (this could be a good thing in the long run, perhaps), and it seems like it takes forever to fire up the little portable grill we continue to use, with no place to store a larger gas version until I clean out the cluttered garage. So I answered mischievously, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” and pulled through the McDonalds drive-through that is walking distance from our house and ordered two of their new Southern-Style Chicken Sandwiches, which if we’re getting technical about it, have no mayonnaise, only pickles, so how bad can they be? Really bad, I know.
So we postponed the first day of the rest of our new, skinny lives enough to scarf down the sandwiches, washed ‘em down with a couple of super-size sweet teas, too. But afterwards I pulled out the last box of brownie mix and made them for our meeting today…driving the devil out of my house or something like that. They’d be better with a cold glass of milk, the way I’ve frequently been eating them over the last few months, in bed before going to sleep no less. But I’m hoping this is the end of those late-night trysts for a while. A butterfly can’t soar with brownie-filled wings…
