Today, there are many delicious foods easily available. I sometime wonder how life was in the ancient past when they did not have ease of access to food as we do today.
However, though I can find food of all kinds in our stores there are foods that stand out as my favorite.
I easily walk past the pizzas, the fluffy pasties, pies, and cream cakes. But when I sit in the restaurant and see the words oxtail stew, with creamed spinach and potatoes I positively drool.
The Waitron places the crispy warm bread rolls beside me on a white plate. In front of me were yellow balls of butter. Next, she placed in front of me a bowl of creamed spinach, dark green finely cut with the white cream and steam coming from it advertising it was freshly cooked. I inhaled the warm aroma unique to spinach. Beside it was a bowl with smooth white mashed potato. Rich creamy smooth and firm from the butter and milk that had been beaten into it to add to its flavor and smooth texture.
Then came the bowl full of oxtail stew. Its rich dark brown color was set off by the white bowl it was in. The gravy was thick and rich. I could smell the aroma of beef, garlic, and herbs and spices drifting up from it into my nose. My mouth watered in anticipation.
Now I took the silver spoon and dipped it into the bowl of potato. It smoothly penetrated the firm fluffy white mound. I lifted the spoon and turned it over on my plate depositing a mound of potato. I repeated this 3 times. Then using another spoon I scooped up spinach dripping white sauce and put it on the plate beside the potato. The dark green Spinach was hot, the white Sauce melted and it contrasted with the creamy potato. Now after a second helping of spinach I took another larger spoon. I dipped it into the rich brown stew and stirred it. Then I scooped up a chunky slice of oxtail. Several other pieces followed that one onto my plate, the rich brown meat, contrasting with the dark green spinach and creamy white potato. The succulent meat gleaming with a coating of rich gravy and the aroma of gravy, garlic spinach and potato blending in the steam rising from my plate. I scooped up gravy from the bowl and trickled it over the white potato catching the scent of red wine. I broke the roll and spread butter on it and I was ready to eat.
Now the decision where to start, so I bit into the fresh crisp roll and tasted its warm soft texture and the melting butter. By then I had decided to sample the potato with gravy and the spinach. The potato was smooth, with a taste of butter over powered with the tangy gravy, its garlic and hint of good red wine in it. The spinach was a good foil. Smooth with its vegetable texture and plain white sauce it softened the taste of the gravy. Then I used my fork and removed the succulent meat from the bone. Its soft texture, fatty feeling in the mouth, the spice wine and garlic in the gravy made it perfect. So I sat contented at my table eating as much as I could, and more than I should of my favorite food.
Tips on writing a descriptive essay about your favorite food:
- This essay form is personal. It describes your personal experience and view on your favorite food.
- The goal is to create a vivid picture in the reader’s imagination.
- Brainstorm by using your power of observation and make notes.
- Carefully choose descriptive words that bring out a vivid picture of what you describe – in this case – your favorite food.
- Ensure you apply all your senses. The reader must be brought into the picture in his imagination. If you use words such as hot, cold, warm, dark, light, sunshine, fragrant, and the like.
- Describe, where you can, your emotions and feelings. Most of the readers will identify and connect with emotion.
- Do not lose your focus and make sure you organize your paper correctly.
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Tags: descriptive essays, essay on food
A few weeks ago we sent out one of our bi-monthly E-Newsletters with a request for stories written by our readers on the theme of The Family Dinner. The contest was inspired by The Family Dinner cookbook by Laurie David, a book full of not just delicious recipes but also (and we think even more importantly) full of great reasons to sit down and enjoy a home cooked meal with loved ones. The winning story would receive a signed copy of the cookbook for their kitchen library!
We we're thrilled to receive a number of entries full of great stories–from fiction to memoir, some made us laugh, others made us teary and some inspired us to call our moms. So thanks to all you readers who entered for your inspired tales of how much dinner traditions can really mean. Here is the winning story!
Sunday Family Dinners by Courtney Gilbert
With more than a decade between the eldest and the youngest children in my family, growing up there were few things we held in common. On a regular day, there was only so much my older brothers could take hearing about my most recent boy band crush or school girl drama. Nor did I have much interest in their discussions of computers or the political matters that were beyond the understanding of a tween girl.
On Sundays though, an hour or two before sunset, a transformation occurred in our home. The long table in our kitchen, whose job day to day was to hold mail and unfinished homework, as well as be a quick pit stop for filling empty bellies, shifted into something much more. Dressed nicely with linen placemats and napkins, the long table became the setting for a family ritual that somehow, in an almost magical way, quieted the differences between us just enough so we could share a meal and get to know each other.
My father at the head of the table was generally a serious man, but became the jovial story-teller for the evening on Sundays. With every juicy steak he served up there was a cheesy joke as its side. He would recount stories from his younger years, or sometimes those of our grandparents’. No matter what the story, there was always a punch line, which would generally draw an exasperated sigh from our mother, signaling that perhaps this story was somewhat exaggerated for comedic effect.
In perfect balance to his meaty steaks and cheery chatter, my mother served up her potatoes and salad along with a verbal newsletter of the comings and goings of family and friends. Birthdays, upcoming celebrations for new babies or marriages and recent accomplishments at jobs were all shared across the table, as well as the tastier tidbits of information that she was hearing through the grapevine. She had her children’s full attention this one night a week, so it was important she share the information with us now as to not risk hearing later, “Mom – you never told me cousin Johnny was getting married?!”
Sitting between our parents at either end of the table, my three older brothers and I would split time between our parents’ conversations and that of our own. I cannot even remember our specific conversations, whether it was music or sports or politics, but I know that we actually talked to each other, about something! And little by little, Sunday by Sunday, we became more than just siblings, we became friends–with each other and with our parents.
The phrase “creature of habit” could very well have been invented in our family. Sunday Family Dinner’s menu every week was (is) steak, potatoes and salad. On occasion and by request only, my father would grill up some fish or burgers along with the steak. But the steak, potatoes and salad always remained the principal of the meal. It was the consistency, something comforting you could count on each week, that brought us back home no matter what and made Sunday Family Dinners a success.
The four siblings are now split between two cities in two states, so Sunday Family Dinner goes to the town that Mom and Dad claim as home for the time. Over the years we’ve added spouses and nieces and nephews to the long table. My father repeats some of his stories from years ago and my mother finds herself forgetting which set of children she has already shared certain family updates with – do the Austin kids know this or was it the Fayetteville kids she told? But little by little, Sunday by Sunday, we continue to share our lives around a long table filled with simple good foods and friends.