Left Overs: Poem Analysis

I decided to pick this poem for a couple reasons. First, I read it though once, and understood the big picture, but I didn’t understand certain lines. Second, I relate to this poem because when I cook, I always make sure that the amount of food that goes into the trash is minimum. If I don’t, I feel guilty for the rest of the day. Third, I love potatoes and some people call me a potato so it was cool finding a poem with my name in the title.

The authors name for this article is Michael Ruhlman. Ruhlman graduated Duke in 1985 with a BA in literature. He formerly worked as a cook to work with the chef on his book, and then he kept on writing about food. He has currently wrote more than twenty books. Ruhlman also worked at The New York Times as a copyboy, and even got some of his articles into the papers. Another job he had was at his local magazine covering arts and

Anthony Bourdain is a critically acclaimed chef, writer, and television star. He has appeared in shows such as “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations”, “Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown”, and “Top Chef,” and published works such as “Don’t Eat Before Reading This”, “Medium Raw”, and “The Nasty Bits.” Trained at Vassar College the Culinary Institute of America, Bourdain is known for his love of food. In 2000, he wrote a book called Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, and his first chapter is entitled “Food is Good”. In the chapter, Bourdain discusses his trip to France with his family, and how the trip transformed from hating the exotic food to loving it. Through his structure, descriptive language, and childhood stories,

Letting go of comfortable, familiar feelings is a task many individuals are not willing to forget. For example, in the final paragraph of “Goodbye to my Twinkie Days” Nguyen writes that she may never eat the ten pack of Twinkies purchased. Even all throughout Nguyen’s story, in excerpts from the first paragraph to the last, it is made clear that Twinkies are not healthy nor a necessity. Nevertheless, the author knows that there is a certain comfort in knowing that in only a short trip to the top of the fridge, the tasty packaged “time machines” would always be there, whenever

Ann Hodgman starts the essay with rhetorical questions in order to draw the reader to learn about her experiment. From the Gaines burgers taste test, to Cycle 4 foods, Hodgman described the dishes in an attempt to create a feeling of disgust in the readers mind. The Gaines burger had a “horrifying rush of cheddar taste, followed immediately by the dull tang of soybean flour…” (8) – just the parallel description of ‘horrifying rush’ and ‘dull tang’ emphasizes the abhorrence in Hodgman’s writing. Her experience with tasting dog food seems like an odd and not a topic many can relate to. In order to connect to her audience Ann Hodgman compared the taste of Cycle 4, canned food for senior dogs, to baked beans. Using descriptive tactics, Hodgman was able to show the obvious issues that hide behind the labels.

David Sedaris’s Tasteless is an essay filled with imagery and humor. His sarcasm and language really captures the reader’s mind. He takes you through his journey of his eating habits from a boy to an adult. He begins his story with discussing how cigarettes can affect one’s senses, blaming his lack of taste on his smoking fixation. He proceeds to describe his eating habits with elaborate details and analogies, poking fun at himself numerous times. Sedaris tells of a time where he tried to bribe his sister for part of her meal. Then he talks about a cookbook he received from his mother and how by high school he began making pizzas. Although he would be creative with his meals, he never applauded himself once on his abilities to create something

The interests of childhood and information picked up as a child can prompt a peculiar adulthood. In the article No Wonder They Call Me a Bitch, Ann Hodgman composes on how she attempted to answer inquiries of her youth by inspecting and tasting dog food. Following the time when Hodgman was a young, she had constantly pondered what it is similar to attempt pooch sustenance. The author clarifies how she begin eating wet puppy food, abandoning her with an offensive affair. Changing from wet to dry dog food, Hodgman broadly briefs on an incomprehensible assortment of dog food and verifies her point is well sent crosswise over by relating them to that of people in composition and taste. She evaluates the dog food as she would evaluate food in general at a restaurant. She continues by bringing up the answer to the questions she knew might come up despite the article. This shows the bitch characteristics of Hodgman as bossy women who cannot take criticism from her readers. She answers questions about her own involvement with canine nourishment upheld by her own particular request of taste testing of a few puppy

Everyday, throughout the world, restaurants throw away large amounts of uneaten food. Public Health laws prevent them from re-serving or reusing this food, and, for similar reasons, they cannot simply give it away to hungry people. We opted to review this as our messy situation due to the impact that this has on people and the environment.

He spoke about canned foods, how to tell if it was good, and the dangers of eating canned food that has spoiled.Then he speaks about crackers, raw fruits, and candies. He explains why they are discarded and when they are safe to eat or not. He then spoke about an experience he had in a dumpster belonging to a pizza place and how for some time he had good, fresh pizza to eat until the employees became suspicious and stopped putting out their trash at night. Next he speaks about college students and the food he discards. He gives detailed descriptions on the habits of college students who throw out perfectly good food, particularly before they leave the dorms before midterms and how he hangs out around college dumpsters during that time for the same reasons. He justifies his actions by saying how much of this food goes to waste when it is still good. He gives specific information on the food he finds, such as, cheese, yogurt, and sour cream. He also speaks about drinks and when they are still good to drink. Carbonated drinks are good if they still fizz, juices on the other hand are more tricky and need to be treated more carefully in case there is mold in the

Personally, I’ve grown up hating leftovers. They seemed to always be a stale, bland version of the meal I just ate the night before. However, Adler’s article not only gave excellent descriptions of leftover meals that sound appetizing, but she also showed the benefits of sustainable cooking. Here is an interesting idea regarding

digested, nothing but leftovers in Tupperware,” is a powerful and telling line as to what the

“Help yourself,” said Jake. Lela gently grabbed a burger, already prepared, from the center of the table. Jake had cooked them himself. Lela picked up the engraved metal fork. She started cutting off parts of her burger, as if it were spaghetti. Mrs. Johnson looked at her with hatred and disgust.

In the story, “Two Cafeterias” by Virginia Woolf, she describes two meals she was served at a university visit. Throughout the story the author displays her underlying attitude toward women’s place in society. She began with a “luncheon part[y]” at the men’s college. Already, it becomes very evident that the men’s meal is going to be very lavish. The lunch commenced with soles, a fish that was “sunk in a deep dish.” The chef had put “the whitest cream” on the sole, and made it spread so that the spots looked like “the spots on the flanks of a doe.” This shows how ornamental and extravagant the meal truly was. Next, the “silent servingman” brought out partridges. The men are provided with a silent server so they can continue their extensive discussions. The partridges were accompanied by a “retinue of sauces.” The men got a wide variety of sauces to meet each of their own individual tastes, and since they are men, this is what they deserve. Soon after, the dessert was brought out. The dessert was pudding. The author stated however, that to call it pudding was an insult. The meal was over, but no one got up to leave. There was “no need to hurry” because no one had to get up early to go to class. Life was extremely effortless for the men. Everything they ever needed seemed to be presented to them on a silver platter. Rather than hurrying out, the servers brought them more “flushed yellow and flushed crimson” wine. All the men got to sit around and talk about how “good life

Inside would be an outfit so stylish that it begged to be worn. Accompanying the clothes would be a small white box with a red rose bow that flopped over the sides of the box. Inside this box would be a ring from her collection or another piece of jewelry she had picked out for me. However excited I was for the presents, the excitement quickly turned toward thoughts of the upcoming meal she had prepared for the family. It did not matter what she had prepared for the meal; the kitchen always had such delectable scents that wafted through the air and just settled over the house. My mouth was in a constant state of salivation and my stomach waited expectantly for what was sure to be another meal that left my stomach uncomfortably full and yet yearning for more. And yet, no matter what she made, the best part of the meal that you always took thirds or fourths from came from the salad bowl. A simple salad served with homemade Italian dressing and fresh crumbled Roquefort cheese, it was what reminded me best of grandma.

“Tired darling?” She asked. “Yes. I’m tired.” Straight after I say this I stand to get another glass of whisky. I just couldn’t look at her face. “I’ll get it!” She exclaimed. I firmly replied with a “Sit down.” As I poured a large amount of whisky into my glass. She probably noticed. She was like that, observant, she noticed all the small details. “Darling, shall I get your slippers?” She asked from a distance. “No” I replied, I didn’t even want her near my things. I lifted the drink to my lips and let a mouthful of the liquid flow down my throat. She needed to stop, she needed to leave me alone. She kept talking, "I think it's a shame," she paused and said, "that when a policeman gets to be as senior as you, they keep him walking about on his feet all day long." I didn’t answer, she couldn’t care that much. I took another sip. Why did I have to find out, it would’ve been better if I didn’t. "If you're too tired to eat out," she went on, "it's still not too late. There's plenty of meat