For one of my classes this week, we had to compose a magazine of writing genres about a similar topic. Another name for this project is "multi-genre writing." The topic my group chose is near and dear to my heart - food!
I had to choose two genres of writing wherein I spoke about food. My choices were easily made. I chose to write a poem about the Food Network, and I chose to write a personal narrative about food and tradition, specifically in my family. I would like to share the latter with you.
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Family, Food, Forever
In my family, food is the center of a lot of our bonding. It's a tradition, something that's being passed down from generation to generation. I think my love for cooking started with my father. He and I have always shared a love for it. As the older sister, I naturally took on a sort of mothering responsibility with my family. Most evenings, I cooked supper for my family so a meal was on the table when my parents got home from work. Once I got my license, I started carting my brother to and from his hockey practices, and often cooked two meals a night (because my brother was a VERY picky eater). Rarely did I ever complain about having to do so.
My dad is known for his barbecuing in our family. One of my favourite things to have after being away from home for a great length of time are my dad's barbecued hamburgers. Though I can't remember one specific moment wherein my dad taught me how to cook something, I think some of my favourite memories are of the two of us sitting at the kitchen table sharing ideas and flavours with one another, and dreams of opening a restaurant together some day. Now it often features of glass of red win - a new shared love between the two of us. I am so grateful that this shared love for food is what bonds the two of us.
Both of my Grandmother's are also known for cooking large and elaborate meals. My Grammy Dickinson is famous for her brown bread; My Grandmom is famous for her homemade rolls. Both of them are near and dear to my heart. The older I get, the more I appreciate the lessons they have taught me over the years. Today, a lot of these lessons come simply from family recipes. A family favourite that my Grandmom makes ever Christmas was handed down another generation this year. "The Christmas Ring" - a must0have on our dinner table Christmas morning. My mother curses at attempting to make it, as she has never had much luck. So, when Grandmom suggested that I be in charge of the Christmas ring this year, I was mildly in shock. However, with constant coaching and step-by-step instructions, out collaborative Christmas ring gained much praise from the family (thought she won't take any of the credit). What I cherished most about this time with my Grandmom, though, was learning about how she was handed down the recipe. She told me stories of making the ring with her mother-in-law (my Mum Mum), and how it was one of the first times they spent one on one time together. I envision the day when I get to have a similar moment with my grandchildren.
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I found this piece really easy to write, and could have written pages and pages about the topic. I chose to write about food and the tradition is has in my family because I cherish any moment that I have to connect and grow with my family. Writing this piece gave me time to reflect on some recent happenings, and it was much like a therapy session. When I left the piece after it's completion, I felt a sense of satisfaction and appreciation for the piece itself, and for where I've had the fortune of growing up.
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