My boyfriend and I cooked Baked Ziti dish for my family and it turned out wonderfully. It was very easy to make, and the recipe was easy to follow. We made some small adjustments, but here is a link to the base recipe http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Baked-Ziti-IV/Detail.aspx
From a very young age, I was taught that food was the purest form of comfort. I grew up in a house filled with five adults, and despite their crazy schedules, once a day we met to sit around the multipurpose dining room table. This table had seen much chaos throughout the day, but by six o’clock in the evening it was time for calm. My grandmother would place dishes on the table and we would all pass, by rule, counterclockwise, taking any portion we desired. Each of us left the table feeling overly stuffed. We would, as a family, remove the dishes from the table and begin packing away the remnants of my grandmother’s cooking; as a team, we would move towards the sink, cleaning the way for dessert.
Because of this ritual, food became my life. I was never afraid to eat. The cookie jar would mysteriously empty only shortly after I arrived home from school. On Tuesday and Thursday nights after gymnastics practice I would be driven to the nearest 7-11 store to pick up the largest slushy I could find. I maintained an athletic physique despite my unhealthy eating habits.
Upon entering high school, I desired to remain an athlete. In my mind, this was vital to maintaining balance in the world of academics. I was encouraged to try out for the cheerleading squad despite my apprehensions to become one of those girls. I came to love the sport. In my world
of competitive sports, I had always lived by the philosophy that every sacrifice had to be made in order to succeed. While we were talking to our coach, she mentioned that it is the flyer’s responsibility just as much as the bases’ responsibilities to make sure each stunt sticks. For those who are not as familiar with cheerleading lingo, the supporting cheerleaders are responsible for providing a stable foundation for the stunt. Meanwhile, the cheerleader they are supporting is equally responsible for maintaining form and balance to ensure the stunt does not fail.
One day my coach said these words I will never forget: “If that stunt hits the ground and you know you ate something heavy for lunch, it is just as much your fault as it is your bases fault. You should be changing your diet to eat like a flyer.”
From that day forward, I ate yogurt. My diet became Yoplait Light’s cherry yogurt for breakfast, their key lime for lunch, and vanilla for dinner. My greatest variation in my diet was throwing in the occasional side salad simply to add variation to food texture to my diet; at some point, the smooth, creamy texture of yogurt became unsatisfactory. By the end of the season, my body began to question if my jaw was capable of chewing as part of the digestive process. This diet continued until track season began approximately three months later. As a runner, I was then required to indulge in 2500-3000 calories per day as opposed to in-taking a mere 700 to maintain optimal cheerleader’s physique. I soon began getting sick from the foods I ate. Anything and everything was a waste, because thirty minutes later, two-thirds of it had left my body. I lost a significant amount of weight and was forbidden from running until I could control my diet due to health concerns; my health condition forfeited my participation in over half of the season. When I went to the doctor, he confirmed I had developed a case of chronic acid reflux which could be controlled by one pill each day. He also confirmed that this was caused by my drastic adjustment in my eating habits; my desire to succeed as an athlete permanently damaged my body.
For the past three years I have struggled to maintain a diet that would replace my taking a pill daily. I cannot stand the thought of living without pain only because I have medication running through my body. I deleted processed foods from my diet, artificial sugars, anything that had come in contact with frying oil or butter, and anything that was not made with simple ingredients. I starved myself of nutrients simply to find the foods that would best settle my temperamental stomach. It was not until my senior year of high school that I was granted the opportunity to study fitness and nutrition. I began an independent study on the foods entering my body and their effects. Through this semester-long study, I learned not only what my body needed to survive, but also what I could do to help my body function on an athletic level. Despite being long past concerned, my parents recognized a difference in my eating habits. My father once said, “I’m so happy to see you eating. You’re a lot happier with food.” For the first time in over two years, I was able to look at a meal and not dread the entire eating process. To this day, I am faced with days when food becomes my biggest enemy, but I am now more prepared to overcome this type of obstacle.
I benefitted both physically and psychologically from my studies. I could now endure winters without a constant cough or nasal congestion; my immune system was once again being nourished with the vitamins and nutrients it needed to combat the common cold. In my mind, food once again became a friend rather than foe. Eating healthy no longer meant eating nothing. I was never to battle with my diet again, neither overeating as a child nor malnourishment as a young adult, because for the first time I understood my body’s processes. I understood what my body needed in both training mode and daily living. I call nutrition my obsession but it is only because this body is the only one I will get, and despite being chemically imbalanced from within, I must take care to avoid a life reliant on monthly visits to the nearest drug store.
(Going shopping with my host parents is definately fun as you can see!) 
(The dish)
ed for the forks. Also, we all had a lot of fun learning to find something in the food we like: Chinese cooking, American eating, and mixed flavors. Cooking and eating any kind of food is a way people can enjoy themselves and each other. So today I went to Firehouse subs and I spotted the most amazing coke machine! At first I didn't know what it was, then I realized , "Holy cow, that is a fancy coke machine!" Upon further investigation I found that you could get just about any flavor of coke you wanted. Things like, lime coke, vanilla coke, cherry coke, Diet cherry coke. You could get other things like pink lemonade, yellow lemonade, diet lemonade. And all of this was in just one coke machine! I was so amazed by this little machine that I payed no attention to the growing line behind me. When I finally sat down of the ladies in the table over smiled and said, " You look quite interested in that coke machine? Isn't it quite amazing?". I said it was one of the coolest things I had seen in a while. To this she laughed in responded, " You must be a Georgia Tech Student."
I took a video and some pictures to show you guys how amazing this thing is. 
milk to create the sauce. Finally the key ingredient is added, dried shredded beef. This is best served over toast or even better, biscuits. Chipped beef is an acquired taste so not everyone may like it. However it was always a meal that my father and I enjoyed together. No matter what he made it was always a good meal and the whole family was present in the kitchen during the cooking process. We would all sit at the counter and talk while he prepared a meal for us all to share. Above all Sunday breakfast was about more than just the savory and mouth-watering dishes that were being served, it was being together and enjoying a meal with my family that made it truly special.To reflect about food one must endure a wide spectrum of definitions, feelings, and experiences. Food can be simply defined as a substance consumed for either nutrition or pleasure. However, the definition ignores another vast function food serves throughout the life of a modern human being. Almost every person on the planet has memory of a time when they gorged at a special feast that provoked feelings of unity between all the feast-goers. My personal reflection about the significance of food evoked thoughts of human connections and intertwining culture. Food has to be seen as a cultural affair. The public eats in a socially ordered manner. In the environment of one specific culture, there are unambiguous ideas about good and bad table-manners, correct and incorrect ways to present dishes, and clear understandings about food fitting to different occasions. Foods themselves can be seen to convey a range of meanings, such as the ability to communicate information in terms not only of occasion but also social status, ethnicity and wealth. As celebrated food connoisseur Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin stated, “Tell me what you eat, and I’ll tell you who you are.”
My immediate family does not cook. My parents don’t cook often and when they do, the meal is most likely very simple. Guests are usually taken out to fancy restaurants. Barbeques are also an option. Restaurant frequenting is our family’s specialty. Food preparation as anything but a survival skill was never stressed in my household. Therefore, my memories of food are from occasions outside of my home and my times outside of my family. Food, in my life, has been used as a bridge not to bring my family closer together but as a means to better understand different societies.
My tour group was treated to a traditional Bedouin meal complete with all the customs intact. I learned that the Bedouin’s introductory course, a bowl of fresh and colored herbs, is meant for appetite honing and palate cleansing. I learned that in the days before cars and planes, the site of a Bedouin tent for weary travelers was equal to that of seeing an oasis. Apparently, the hospitality of the Bedouin society is well known to natives of the Middle-East. I learned that sharing a meal with the Bedouin society places one under their protection for up to three days after the meal. Eating with your fingers is the method of choice among Bedouin tribes. More precisely, custom calls for eating with just three fingers on your right hand. I was still imagining how to eat certain foods with only three fingers when the first of the food arrived. The appetizer consisted of a luscious baba ghanoush, a baked and mashed eggplant dish, which was earthy with a hint of citrus juice. Next up was the tabbouleh and hummus. The tabbouleh, a Middle-Eastern salad, was bright and fresh; a surprisingly colorful contrast to the desert lands. The hummus was creamy yet substantial. Mutton ragout was the featured meal, present with whole chickpeas, sheep intestine, grape juice, and breadcrumbs. The cooking was delicate and aromatic. By eating their food with their tribe members, I could get a sense of what it was like to be a Bedouin, if only for a brief moment. 
Traditional Bedouin stove.
Reflecting on that dinner, I can get a sense of the philosophy that the Negev Bedouin live by. The Bedouin emphasize that nature provides the best foods. You won’t find any processed or refined goods in a Bedouin home. By living and eating with nature, the Bedouin feel the need to be peacefully in tune with their environment. During the meal, one of the elders seemed to be able to gauge the upcoming weather based on the vivacious dance of orange, red, and purple in the sunset. The Bedouin live a simpler life. They don’t get stressed about world events and know the importance of keeping a calm and positive attitude towards life. One can look up and read about the Bedouin civilization online or in a textbook, but to share a meal with them allows for one to actually get a taste of the type of life that a Bedouin lives. The context of the dinner meal allowed for the indulgence and transmission of cultural values between an American citizen like me and members of the Bedouin tribe.
Bedouins relaxing during a meal.
While it would be easy of me claim that food is so significant to me because it provides the sustenance of life, I think the real significance comes from food’s ability to become a representation of a society. Food is one of the few universal commonalities between every human. That connection allows for people of completely different backgrounds to communicate effectively. Food is truly important to me because of its pervasiveness within every sect of world society. So before eating your meal, think about the food on your plate and where it has come from. Think about how it has been made and the distances it has travelled to get there. Finally, eat it slowly, savoring the flavors for full appreciation of the culture that brought that meal together.
Kaczmarek, Krzysztof, artist. “Bedouin women prepare food” Photograph. (n.d.) From trekearth.com.
http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Africa/Egypt/Inland/Red_Sea/East_Desert_near_Hurghada/photo445086.htm (accessed September 28, 2009)
“Tent.” Photograph.n.d. From darkhlabedouins.com. http://www.dakhlabedouins.com/by_bedouin_life.html (accessed September 28, 2009)
Who are we? We tend to identify ourselves using race, language, religion and culture – but food? Could each one of us really be so unique? What of the countless Americans who stuff cheeseburgers down their throats every day? Would they all be the same?
Perhaps the earliest food related memory I have is of eating beef stew with rice in the kitchen on the floor. I can clearly remember my mother smiling down at me from high, high above as she ladled more rice on my plate. I was about 3 or 4 at the time. To date, my mother’s cooking has never been topped by anybody else, not even chefs with graduate degrees working at five-star hotels (the few times I have had the opportunity to try them). My mother learned to cook from her mother, and good cooking (especially good meat cooking) has been a family tradition, passed down from generation to generation.
This culinary tradition is perhaps best exemplified by the fact that I’ve grown up to love meat. The associated expertise on judging the quality of different kinds of meat has become renowned in my extended family. Whenever anyone wants the last word on a rare steak or lamb chops, they consult me.
Family legend attributes this to my maternal grandfather, who was so pleased when his first grandchild was born that he distributed meat to everyone in the neighborhood. Since then, my meat-devouring prowess is unmatched by any of my relatives. But my intuition tells me this is due to the upbringing I’ve had – my mother has always been the undisputed queen of meat-based dishes in our neighborhood, especially those prepared in the traditional Mughal style of cooking famous in India.
"A basket from home"
Clockwise from top-left: Biryani (Spicy rice and meat dish), Matar Paneer (Cottage cheese with peas in curry), Butter Chicken with Naan, and Aloo Paratha (Potato-stuffed flatbread served with butter, pickle and yogurt).
It would be safe to assume that most of us have had a similar experience. Maybe you’re an expert on waffles or omelets. Maybe you had lots of lasagna when you were young – by making lasagna a central part of your cuisine, you are defining yourself in a way that marks you out from the crowd. I’ve found that a person’s diet tells a lot about his/her character.
To be fair, two major culinary traditions have influenced the kind of food I like. Growing up an Indian-Muslim meant that my mother’s cooking was typically Indian, and pork and alcohol were banned on our table. And it sure meant that there was a lot of meat, even though many Indians are vegetarian. On the other hand, fast food and international cuisine are more of an acquired taste for me. This experience is possibly unique for me, and thus it is a core component of my identity.
It may surprise some of you to know that Indians tend to overcook their food (as compared to say, Koreans, who like to eat raw seafood). India produces hundreds of spices and its abundance is reflected in our cuisine – thus the hot and spicy nature of our food. Sometimes when I try American or Continental dishes, I am taken aback by the blandness of the dishes. Perhaps this will change over the coming years as I try more international cuisine.
Identities are not permanent, and tastes and likes are just as ephemeral. Growing up can mean a lot, including changing who you are and by extension, what you eat. Picture a five-year old child. Most probably the child likes milk, chocolate and ice-cream but is neutral on most dishes. Now picture a ten-year old kid. Now this kid likes pizzas, cheeseburgers and most probably hates veggies. My point here is that though our taste buds develop much earlier, children aged 5-10 undergo a crucial transformation in terms of culinary development.
This is exactly what happened to me (and most probably all of you as well). We moved to Qatar and stayed there for the next five years. Then a year in Canada, followed by more than seven years in Kuwait. So most of my culinary development took place outside India. Naturally, our exposure to Middle-Eastern and Western cultural scenes had an effect on my mother’s cooking. It was still basically Indian cooking – but maybe with that Arabic hint or that dash of Chinese in it. And of course, I grew fond of cheeseburgers, pizzas and all kinds of fast food, along with several Arabic specialties.
Now I can relate to street kid in India enjoying a bite of vada pao and an Arab kid digging into his fatayer equally.
"Different stories? I don't think so..."
I've seen them, played with both groups, and enjoyed both Indian and Arab street food. Does that make me unique? A cultural hybrid?
Like almost anything else in this world, you have the power to shape who you are by modifying what you consume. It is probably one of the reasons that make gastronomic experimentation a subject of great interest, something people devote great amount of time into. Like my mother. Many a times, she would learn a new recipe and share it with her mother when she would visit India. Then my grandmother would improve upon this new addition, creating in turn new recipes, new varieties and hybrids of dishes that would taste completely different from the original. It is a dynamic, fluid process, not unlike character and personality development in humans.
What better way to demonstrate this than to place before you this offer? I have tried many American dishes before, but I am still relatively inexperienced. So here is a unique offer for you – if you can guide me through the quagmire of American cuisine, and tell me how to get the best out of the melting pot America is (Is pizza even Italian anymore? Is Chow Mein Chinese at all?), in short, if you can add another dimension to my tastes – then you get to define who I am. You get to shape a part of me.
“Tell a man what to eat, tell him what to be.”
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Biryani: http://lifeismystery.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/chicken_biryani.jpg
Aloo Paratha: www.showmethecurry.com
Butter Chicken and Naan: http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3213/3157980280_3c721e2da7.jpg
Indian street kids: www.spencesmith.com
Arab street kids: blog.justanothersoldier.com
