SE #1 Shiffrin

It is six in the morning. The sun peeks over the horizon illuminating the misty fog that hugs the rolling hills and engulfs the maple trees in a brilliant spectrum of color from blue to orange to a deep red reflecting the autumn colors. Depicting a classic New England post card. This magnificent scene greets me almost every morning yet I am unable to notice or fully appreciate it. Instead I have my head bowed in agony, my legs burn deeper with every pedal stroke. I clench my handlebars and pant loudly as little streams of salty sweat pour off my face and drip from my chin. My desire to quit and my determination to continue create an inner monolog that feud inside my head. Only the thought of my prize awaiting the end of this torture carries me onward. The prize, a heaping plate of eggs with bacon and an everything bagel. Curls of steam crawling skyward off of the piping hot meal. Melted cheddar cheese dribbling down the mountain of protein with potatoes scattered throughout the dish to replenish my carbohydrates. A pool of ketchup sits on the side of my plate to dunk every bite in right before I shovel it down my gullet. A bowl of freshly cut fruit to help replenish the vitamins and electrolytes depleted. Lastly a large glass of thick, pulpy, fresh squeezed orange juice to wash it all down. This is my daily ritual, a ritual I share with all of my other teammates every morning all year.

            I schooled at Burke Mountain Academy. It is regarded as one of the premier ski academies in the world and produces the highest achieving student/athletes per class out of any school in the world. This is largely because the school hosts a grand total of 70 people including teachers who double as coaches and no class is larger than 12 people. The student to faculty ratio is three to one and is key in the schools success. However the factor that “BMA” likes to boast about is the incredibly strong and tight nit community, which is hard to avoid with so few people on campus. This community is based around two things, first is hard work, which more often than not means pain like the morning bike rides. The second is food. For all of the excruciating hard work and effort we are rewarded with endless amounts of food. The dining hall is the center of our universe. It exhibits a gravitational force that holds us together and provides an escape from our schoolwork and workouts. Out of all my memories from the six years I spent at BMA, the food stands out the most. Though I did not realize it at the time food provided me with a timetable, a family, and could most readily be described as a skeletal support system. It gave me a sense of identity and dominates almost every one of my memories. It is without a doubt, and integral aspect of my character and personality.

            For instance, we would often travel all over the world at random times to compete and rarely had a solidified agenda to follow and would therefore forget what day of the week it was. As soon as we returned home from any such escapade we would be able to determine what day of the week it was simply by eating a meal because every day of the week was a specific dish. This routine grew to become such an anchor in my life that I began to base my homework and classes around the meals I ate. I knew that if I had burgers with pickles and curly fries for lunch, that it would be promptly followed by Calculus. If I ate Spaghetti bolognaise for dinner I needed to write an English paper and read my history book to prepare for class the following day. To this day I still eat a regimented diet and will often recall an assignment or task that requires my attention simply based upon the meal I am cooking at the time. It is and interesting thought provoking concept that perhaps BMA intentionally designed their dining hall in such a way that it promoted the formation of a strong community and hard work. If so, who ever thought of that is an absolute genius. I also wonder if I would have held less of an attachment to BMA if the food was less appetizing and felt more like another grueling task that must be completed rather than a prize that awaited every painstaking endeavor I experienced throughout high school.

            Food not only brought structure to my hectic whirlwind of a lifestyle, it also gave me a family and helped me build my personality. The first day I went to school at BMA I was 12 years old and very shy. Walking around campus I would gawk at all of the enormous full-grown men accompanied by the beautiful women. It was extremely intimidating and made me feel very alone as a skinny little toothpick of a boy. The peak of my self-consciousness was my first meal in the mess hall. I shuffled through the line picking out my food not even remotely conscious of what I was choosing and more concerned about where I was going to sit. I walked out into the dinning area that felt enormous and was packed with hungry students devouring their plates. Trying not to be noticed I quickly and quietly scurried over to the one empty corner table and sat alone. I had not even taken my first bite before a hulking senior noticed me sitting alone. When we made eye contact I was certain that he would crack a joke at my expense and cause the entire room to erupt in laughter. Instead, to my disbelief, he grabbed his plate, stood up, walked over to where I was sitting, introduced himself, and sat down to continue his meal with me. Two of his friends followed his lead. My confidence and comfort level shot from rock bottom to sky-high instantaneously. This senior made me feel as though I belonged here in this room amongst he and his friends and they became my family all because of the dinning hall and food. I now extend this same kindness to anyone eating a meal alone and it has become a part of my personality.

            These are just a couple of examples of how food has permanently mad its mark on my life. Without these experiences and memories of food I would not feel the sense of community, culture, or desire to work hard. I often ponder about what my life and personality would be like had I not felt such a deep connection with the food at BMA. In any case I am in debit to the life I now live as a result of my connect to the food of my past.

P1 Response

There appears to be a very consistent theme throughout all of the blogs, which in essence degrade the quality of food selection provided by our Uuiversity. Many of them recount either a sub par experience eating their most recent meal or contrast the dinning in the mess halls with a more desirable alternative ranging from home cooking all the way to a simple cliff bar. These blogs in my opinion suggest that the culture surrounding meals provided by Sodexo a far from subsequent and can barely qualify as a nutritious let alone satisfying dinning experience. Common descriptions of the nourishment available would be, bland, unexciting, boring amongst a plethora of similar adjectives. Thankfully my room has a kitchen.

P2 Shiffrin

Though some people do not consciously recognize food as a significant part of their cultural heritage it remains a critical part in defining who we are and where we come from. Just think about the association between American love of fast food and its ironically trending obesity problem. The correlation between cuisine and culture is made perfectly transparent in the writings of both Ahn and Nicholson. In Nicholson’s article "Eating White" he recounts a commemorative lunch he has that pays tribute to his deceased mother. He go into fine detail regarding the particulars of this meal consisting of a bland cheese sandwich which he often ate with his mother for lunch. He begins be explain the extensive effort involved in finding Cheshire cheese in California as opposed to how quickly one could locate the same item in Brittan. For every ingredient used to make his lunch he discusses the differences between his childhood memories of Brittan and his experiences of California. He then continues to relate this “white” meal to his homeland and family heritage by way of describing his parent’s lifestyle, which more or less mirrored the amount of excitement found in his lunch sandwich. Now while Nicholson certainly used food as a vessel to describe his heritage he did so by dissecting a single meal and relating every aspect of that meal to his past whereas Ahn uses a much different approach to achieve the same objective of recounting his past by way of food. In Ahn’s article he begins by depicting a scene of his wife and him eating at a Korean restaurant where is accidentally orders a dish that he believed was a separate dish. This concerns him about his ability to pass on his cultural heritage to his new son. He figures that the most effective method in which he can pass on his Korean heritage to his son is through cooking Korean meals. Thus he dives into his past and recalls many memories of his parents and his past much of which is strongly tied to cooking and eating Korean cuisine. 

            The articles written by Ahn and Nicholson where very similar in many regards however they differed in the sense that Nicholson used the details of a single meal to depict his roots as opposed to Ahn’s description of many meals and experiences to paint a picture of where he came from. I do not personally think that the food I eat is inherent of my ethnic heritage. However I do think that the foods I cook for myself and eat are largely representative of who I am and where I have been. For instance I often eat a European style breakfast, which largely consists of jelly spread across a semel which Swiss cheese and salami. I have traveled a lot in my life and therefore do not have much of a singular cultural identity but the many identities that I do have are often expressed through the meals I eat.

Living it Up and Eating a LOT!

The most recent meal that I ate was dinner last night in Squaw Valley California at the US Nationals for ski racing. That was almost 24 hours ago and I am currently starving and really need to eat a huge meal or snickers or really anything at all. However my dinner last night was one of the best meals I have ever eaten in my life. Julia Mancuso invited my sister and myself to eat dinner at her house with some of her friends for a dinner party. For starters Julia’s house is a $45 million house and her mother is Italian and has a passion for cooking. On top of that Audi lent me an R8 for the afternoon due to my result in the race earlier in the day, which was one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me. So accounting for all of these factors helped make this dinner more spectacular than it would have been otherwise though, needless to say, the actual diner was delicious. For our meal we had an appetizer, which consisted of a cream of broccoli soup, which was the perfect consistency along with asparagus wrapped prosciutto that was lightly grilled which accentuated the taste of the prosciutto which is remarkably similar to bacon albeit much tastier. For the main course Julia’s mother cheffed up a beautiful cut of elk sirloin with a side of Rotini pasta and an assortment of seared vegetables. Everything featured on the plate was cooking to absolute perfection and was flavorful beyond compare. My face displayed a ridiculous grin from ear to ear with happiness all night. I ate until it hurt because I was so full and probably consumed a solid three pounds of elk and two pounds of pasta. All in all it was a fantastic night of fun and food that will remain as an enjoyable memory for as long as I can remember it.