The Most Memorable Meal Essay

In Hunger of Memory, Richard Rodriguez situates his individual experiences with education in such a way as to expose what he sees as the fallacious logic behind bilingual education and affirmative action. He uses arguments to propagate the systematic problems with such programs. His autobiography explains in great detail the entangling problems all American children face by instituting bilingual programs and affirmative action endorsements.

It was a chilly October Saturday morning. I was trying to sleep in, when the aroma of cooking bacon flooded my room. My father was slaving away, fixing my family a grand breakfast for no reason. My father sure did have a temper at times, but in the end he loved us even when we did make him mad. Sometimes it was like no one in my family could do anything right without dad getting mad about whatever it was that we were doing at the moment.

As I approached the kitchen I could hear my parents talking as usual. One step in revealed a teenage girl. I could just imagine the sparks in my brain, desperately trying to connect the dots short circuiting me into a long look. With a silver spoon sticking out of mouth and a piece of cereal falling from her lips she finally met my eyes. She held my gaze, her irises were stationary on mine. Staring had become our only form of communication. It was a contest and winning seemed to be the only thing that mattered. Although she seemed to look through me, like my face was transparent as if she was fascinated by something marveling behind me. Her heavy eyelids rested on mine, slowed to an effect that was both soft and harsh. Her lips didn't form a smile, but titled as if they meant to as she attempted to swallow. After a few seconds she turned her head back to her food as if I had never appeared.

When I go to my friend’s house the smell of snickerdoodle cookies fill the air. When I go into the house I see her mom working hard to make the cookies perfect. I tell her hello and that she doesn’t have to make cookies every time I come over to her house; even though I really want her to. The cookies smell bitter at first, but when she puts them into the oven it smells like heaven. Her mom washes her hands and gives me a big hug, and I feel at home. Me and my friend work on homework while we wait for the cookies to come out of the oven. We talk about how excited we are to go play basketball and how amazing the cookies smell. We hear the timer go off and we rush toward the kitchen. Her mom comes in the room and takes out the cookies. The cookies

My name is Amy and I grew up in Los Angeles. I have been fortunate enough to be exposed to so many different types of foods. Having such wonderful exposure and a willingness to try anything, I find myself always gravitating back to Mexican food. The way its prepared, the wonderful flavors, the variety always seems to provide a delightful experience when eating.

I walked over to the kitchen and placed the box on the ice cold counter top. My mind was blank as I crossed the house to my mom's bathroom looking for tissues. Although the tears had stopped, only moments ago, they began to flow once more when I saw my mom’s face. My mom grabbed me and hugged me. I didn’t want her to ever let me go. We just stood there and hugged as I cried wishing for him to come back.

Its hard to be a child of a single mother. When I was 4 year old I born myself with hot water because I didn’t listen. My momma worked late nights so I would have to stay at my grandma’s house. One night I was staying over there and my mom came to get me after she got off work. It was late at night and I was hungry so when we got home she warmed me up a hot dog in the microwave then took it out and set it on the counter and she wit to the bathroom as she was going in there she told me not to pick up the blow because I was not a big girl yet and to go get the fork across the room so I wanted to prove to her that I was a big girl so I picked up the blow and start walking towards the fork. As I was walking I dropped the blow on me. At that moment

After defining Meal M8’s goals, conceptualizing the main features and aesthetics, the application and accompanying backend system will be brought to market with desktop (web-based), Android and iOS versions using a five step process. According to the experts at Kinvey, this process takes 18 weeks to complete. Cost estimations for an application with Meal M8’s necessary features, are approximately $50,000.00.

Dining room table? Yep. Drapes? Yep. Relatively new wall-to-wall brown carpet? Yep. Lampshades? Yep. White walls? Yep. Piano? Oh, yeah.

Growing up as a kid every single day I would each Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup. At eit almost every single day, now I eat it here in there but I still love it. When I was small I was obviously too small to make it myself, but eventually from watching my mother make it for me so many times, I mastered how to make a Chicken Noodle Soup myself.

My mom would be back from work, at 8. Along with my little sister. When was she going to tell me? I couldn’t not say anything to her about it. I was so mad at her. I wanted to blame her for the divorce. It seemed like she initiated every argument these days. I thought if she would just keep her mouth closed they wouldn’t be so hostile towards each other. My dad loves my mom, I could never imagine him filing for divorce against her. I had butterflies in my stomach when I heard the garage opening. My mom casually walked into my room and said “hi sweetie”, I must have sounded upset because her next words were “What’s wrong?”. She was an expert on my emotions, anytime I was mad or sad she could tell. I felt my bottom lip quiver so I couldn’t reply. After I walked out of my room, I went to her dresser and plopped the yellow envelope in my mom's lap. “Why?” I said, my mom looked defeated, “There are some things that you are going to understand one day Naya” her reply enraged me. I couldn’t hold back the tears. She got off the bed and embraced me. My little sister threw a book from my desk at my mom and screamed “Stop making sister cry mommy”. I couldn’t help but laugh at

When I got home, my mother was making porridge for dinner. I didn’t care, even though we have eaten the same dinner for the last two weeks. I was hungry and tired. “How was your day?” my mom asked. “It was fine. I made a friend today. Everything is going to be fine, Mom.” I was glad the day was

Another time I remember of the incredible actions of my mother is the time of when I truly realized how much my mother has and was ready to endure for her children’s, our education and a bright future. One morning my mother woke me up for school when I was in fifth grade. I

It was sunday afternoon and I was in the car, my father was behind the wheel and my mother was on the right side of my father in the front passenger sit. The sky was mid blue and shiny sun was being covered by the clouds but their was still sunlight going through. Once we got to the store of home depot I took off my earbuds and just heard yelling and screaming my mother saying “vete, déjanos para tu otra familia, no te necesitamos”. My father just looks straight at me as he had a trepidation look, and I look straight at my father brown eyes with a confusing face and turn towards my mother and ask her “De qué estás hablando mamá?” My mother starts bursting into tears as my father keeps on apologizing to my mother and I “peróname peróname” At that moment I realize what was going on between my parents. As inside that green toyota car my mother was crying and crying, balls of tears keeping on coming down her light brown eyes. My father was keeping on apologizing and and for myself my mouth stay completely shut for about six minutes until. I took a deep breath and said these four words that change everything after I received my answer

My most memorable childhood event was when I was 15 years old. It was the Fourth of July. A big family vacation a barbeque, over night stay and out of town trip to six flags, and I had a blast the night before me, my mom, sisters and brother packed our bags to stay the night over my cousin house in Goodlettsville ,Tennessee. She had the biggest house ever I thought it was a mansion; six bedrooms two an half bath, a swimming pool, a game/movie room with a nice big kitchen. It was something that I was not use, knowing that we stayed in a three bedroom based on an income apartment on the East side of Nashville.