Hello hello! After a whirlwind semester examining the narratives of food security in Tanzania, India and Italy, I’ve decided to settle down for a bit in Spain. I decided not to blog during the program, because my head would have exploded, but my SIT family can attest that I spent an inordinate amount of time journaling. As I was leafing through the wrinkled pages, I came to two conclusions. First of all, I love words. Not exactly a surprise for any...
Wrapping a pair of shorts around your head is a great way to sleep through an early sunrise. When DC residents say bring an umbrella to work, they mean bring an umbrella to work. Thunderstorms here mean business. Stability balls will always be superior to chairs. After you roast sweet potatoes for an hour, the oven door will be hot. Do not touch it. Why did you touch the oven door. Networking is a scary term for chatting over coffee....
This summer I have had the pleasure of interning at CentroNía, a multicultural learning center in Columbia Heights. As a member of the Food and Wellness Department, I have done everything from designing wellness infographics and storyboarding videos to organizing a table tennis tournament. While I have enjoyed trying my hand at design, event planning, and community outreach, I have most appreciated my work environment. I love spending time in our office, a light-filled space scattered with potted plants and...
I have eaten the same breakfast every day for nine years. Whole wheat toast with peanut butter, fruit, and a glass of milk. If I’m feeling wild, I’ll trade whole wheat for multigrain, maybe use almond butter instead of peanut, but the structure stays the same. I’ve tried to switch it up with oatmeal, eggs, or cereal, but my breakfast of choice sustains and comforts me too much to risk the change. During the next year, I will travel to...
I just wanted to say thank you for cooking me dinner, even when it was hot, even when you hadn’t slept all night, even when we ate nothing but pasta and grilled cheese. Thank you for not making us eat the broccoli. For always buying too many oranges. For cutting our sandwiches into puzzles, jigsaws of white and whole wheat bread. Thank you for buying hormone-free milk before it was in style. For letting us figure out that three cupcakes...
I just wanted to say thank you for cooking me dinner, even when it was hot, even when you hadn’t slept all night, even when we ate nothing but pasta and grilled cheese. Thank you for not making us eat the broccoli. For always buying too many oranges. For cutting our sandwiches into puzzles, jigsaws of white and whole wheat bread. Thank you for buying hormone-free milk before it was in style. For letting us figure out that three cupcakes...
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, a region of rivers and mossy forests, and for the past two years, I’ve gone to a school nestled between farmland and mountains. DC does a better job than most cities of integrating green space, but it is neither Portland nor Vermont. I really, really miss trees. Every day I take my lunch out to the school garden, a collection of picnic tables and strawberries at the edge of the playground. It’s just a...
This is Just to Say (William Carlos Williams) I have eaten / the plums / that were in / the ice box and which / you were probably / saving / for breakfast Forgive me / they were delicious / so sweet / and so cold This poem brings together my love for beautiful food and beautiful writing, with just a few words conveying the ways in which food connects us to others. As I’ve learned in my exploration of...
Story One. Nilla Wafers. Until I entered the second grade, my diet consisted mostly of microwave pancakes, frozen mixed vegetables, and Nilla Wafers. While other children dove into birthday cake and ice cream, I settled myself in the corner with a bowl of those pale, perfect circles, savoring their gritty sweetness and cardboard texture. Did the cookies taste good? Not particularly. What mattered was the comfort, the ritual. My early memories of food come in flashes of sepia and gold,...
