Definition Essay On Food

English 101

“The Meaning of Food” Throughout my childhood I grew up with my mother preparing all my meals, to what I thought was normal eating habits. My mother is southern and was working full time. We usually ate fried or fast food; we would have traditions that would not only feed our bellies but our souls. It all started when I was in the fourth grade the pounds piled up like the pancakes my mother would make on Sunday morning. I started to use food as comfort and think I needed to eat that extra bite as my family did. My family ate for connection, and that satisfaction you would get after feeling overwhelmingly full. My mother started us children out young in the kitchen, to learn to fend for ourselves. I can remember
My family would celebrate all the joy with a fest fit for kings. I can remember on the holidays my mother would wake up extra early and the house would smell of hand rolled biscuits that were smothered in butter, all the spices and smells of poultry filled the house and wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. My family would eat and eat tell we couldn’t move to what I thought was normal. From grandmother to mother to daughter we were programmed to know your way around the kitchen. Julie Dash in “Rice Culture” embellished “Everyone could cook, the men, woman, and children. It was unheard of not to be able to throw down in the kitchen.” (PG139) Having family traditions passed down and the way I watched my mother cook was like I was programed like a remote. Feeling as if I had to stay tuned in like that overwhelming series that has you eager on the edge of your seats. Every dish was cooked with butter, grease or came from a box, which turned into a routine. Instead of eating a fruit or vegetables for a snack, I would pop in a TV dinner to get that satisfaction of being full, knowing I wouldn’t go hungry but for that simple fact of choice. That TV dinner was now an afternoon tradition that rejoiced my child hood with joy. Connie Shultz in “Heat, Tray, Love” stated “Oh, the unrivaled joy that leapt from the heart of a child used to be whenever that ridge of
Food had now become my secret affair, even though the effects showed on my body as a billboard. Food was then my comfort, the joy of cooking and preparing meals for my family became a pleasure, the sensation of felling full but yet so empty inside. Food then became a hobby, trying to fit my mother’s footsteps and prepare food the way she did pushed me to fulfill that empty void. Always having more than a normal portion size but to have plates filled to perfection, were my biggest struggles. Then before I knew it I became obese and having my life speed by like NASCAR by simply following traditions and doing what I thought was normal. I then became to blame my family and food for my addiction. Having everything swirl around me like a tornado, feeling I had no grip on the choices I made. From the pressure on society and not feeling like I fit in and judged when I would simply go out to eat and want to enjoy a cheese burger like all my friends. I had a sense of feeling like I was screaming in a crowded and no one would look up. On those simple choices of food I loved and counted on, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and high cholesterol at the begging of life at age