Sunday, September 11, 2016

Every Year - Revision

It’s the same tradition every year. A few days before each of our birthdays, my mom would ask, “what you you want to eat for your birthday dinner?” My three siblings and I would each always respond, “I want Dad to grill steak, onions, asparagus, and bread”. It is a family tradition that whoever’s birthday it is can chose the dinner for that night, and we all pick the same delicious meal. 

For each of our birthdays, we have family over to celebrate and share our favorite dinner. Even though we have it very frequently, my family never gets tired of our favorite meal.

The meal is laborious to make, since food is being cooked in so many places: on the barbecue, stove, and in the oven. My mom, the self-proclaimed head chef of the family, is charged with watching over everything in the kitchen while my dad focuses on the barbecue. Year after year, playing the many challenging roles of head chef, host, and mom proves to be too much during these hectic family gatherings. 

About an hour into dinner preparation, my family and I are all enjoying an appetizer of tortilla chips and homemade salsa in the backyard when we smell the faint scent of smoke. One of my family members exclaims “I smell a fire!” Since fires are relatively common in California, we don't think anything of it for a moment. But when we all see my mom sprinting across the lawn and into the kitchen, it all dawns on us: the bread! My family and I all rush into the kitchen to watch my mom open the oven. Plumes of smoke escape, making everyone blink and cough profusely. Once all the windows and doors are open and the kitchen is almost fully cleared out, we finally examine the loaf, or what’s left of it. 

A big black lump sits in the oven, completely unrecognizable. What once held so much promise of garlicky, buttery goodness is now an inedible block of coal. With not enough time to re-bake the bread, dinner is served without it. Everything is still tasty—with expertly seasoned steak, caramelized gilled onions and flavorful asparagus—but lacks the delicious garlic bread. 

This dinner is not our favorite because of the taste, though the dish is pretty good. It’s our favorite because it serves as a memory of time spent with family. Every time I have grilled steak, onions, asparagus, and bread, I am reminded of my extended family gathered around our kitchen table, fighting over who gets the last slice of steak. I remember all thirty of us singing “Happy Birthday” to my brother and watching him blow out the candles stuck into my sister’s homemade cupcakes. I picture the endless games of tag my cousins and I would play in the backyard with the smell of the barbecue wafting through the summer air. The meal is a reminder of a carefree time, where dinner started off rocky, but ended with family coming together and making new memories. It’s the same tradition every year. 

1 comment:

  1. Good job! Even the addition of just one word — "tradition" — strengthens your essay considerably.

    Grade: Check

    ReplyDelete