news Enter the Food For Thought Essay Contest!
Bumbershoot invites anyone who loves food and stories to compose a short essay (no more than 500 words) focused on a memorable food experience—pleasant, or not so much. Heralded chefs and writers Tom Douglas and Kathleen Flinn will be our guest judges for this contest. They will choose the winner and also be looking for topics to discuss as part of their “F is for Food” program at Bumbershoot, where Flinn will read the winning entry to the live audience. The Seattle Times will publish the winning entry and treat the winner and a guest to the Ultimate VIP Weekend at Bumbershoot! Get all the details.
posted June 24 '09 at 04:54PM by Aubbie in contests, kathleen flinn, literary, seattle times, tom douglas
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Dan Thompson said…
Lessons in Moderation
(Or how to ruin your day as a child)
I was about nine years old when Mom and Dad took me, my brother and sister to the Marriot's breakfast buffet. They had salmon, omelets and pastries. Alas, ever the sweet tooth—as soon as I saw the "make your own waffle" bar, complete with assorted syrups, fruits and creams, I b-lined right for it.
Wide eyed and ready to get this party started, I picked up a dish and started pouring the batter onto the iron. Got a little help cooking it from dad, and he plunked it onto my plate.
“Take it easy on the toppings Danny,” he said.
Yeah right.
As he walked away I loaded up the strawberries; followed that with lots of maple syrup, which was all topped off by mounds of whipped cream.
Sitting down at the table my brother and sister were amazed at my creation, dad shook his head. With wide eyes and an open mouth I dug in for what would surely be the best waffle of my life.
Dead…Wrong
As I strained to gulp down this unexpected mouthful, my eyes watered—what I thought was fresh whipped cream turned out to be sour cream!
Dad made me eat the whole thing.
I got a crash course in moderation that day—looking back, I was a bit young to be learning firsthand about one of the 7 deadly sins. However, it was gluttony that made me curse every morsel of that waffle.
Valuable life lesson: 1 -Danny: 0
on Jul 8, 01:11 PM
Shari Seigworth said…
"Sawberry"… "Stawberry"… "Strawberry"… At 12 months of age, "Sawberry" became the first compound word I uttered. I loved strawberries, and at one point, it was the only food my parents could get past my lips. I quickly started loosing weight, and at 18 months, weighed less than my previous checkup. My parents were beside themselves trying to get me to eat more. I would turn away from the offers of macaroni, cookies, and even ice cream, chanting "more sawberries."
My parents started calling me their "little sawberry girl" but worried that I wasn't getting a very good diet. The doctor told them I would tire of eating only strawberries, and not to worry. I can still remember my grandmother telling me that if I ate too many, I would turn red, and my grandfather took it further to say he could already see that I was becoming a strawberry. Still, I kept eating "more sawberries."
As I became a toddler, they became "stawberriers," and I loved anything strawberry. I had a toy box in the shape of a strawberry, a pillow, many outfits covered in strawberries, toys with strawberries, but best of all was the Halloween costume made for me in the shape of a strawberry. My parents decided to plant a strawberry patch for me, and I could see them outside my bedroom window. I grew up learning how to care for the plants bearing the delicate fruit, and learned to appreciate them for all their deliciousness. I remember as a child running the tip of the strawberries across my teeth, letting the small seeds get rubbed off and then slowly eating each berry I picked.
I watched over my strawberries, protecting them from slugs and other pests that would prey on my fruit. I learned when the berries were at their sweetest, and pulled the weeds that came up in my patch. Growing older yet, I learned to say "strawberry" and no longer ate them as my only food. Now, there was strawberry ice cream, strawberry yogurt, strawberry shortcake, and fresh strawberry pie.
I stopped wearing clothes with strawberries once I entered Kindergarten, but still came home to check on my strawberry patch. Later, I grew up and moved out of my parents' house with the strawberry patch outside my bedroom window, but I planted strawberries in the little patio of my apartment. Everywhere I have moved, I planted at least one strawberry plant to remind me of days when I was younger and had eyes for only strawberries.
No longer are they "sawberries" or "stawberries." However, they remain my favorite sweet treat, and I am still and forever will be my parents' "little sawberry girl."
on Jul 17, 11:54 AM