Personal Narrative: Kimberly World Renown Chef

Ever since I was little, I enjoyed being in the kitchen with my mom, dad and other family members. As long as I can remember, I was always there, trying to help out in whatever I could and what my family members would let me. When I was eight, I baked my first batch of chocolate chip cookies and ever since then I developed a passion and dedication for baking that has helped to teach many

I called the constituent, Ms Kathryn Chase, she said that is frustrated that nobody helps her to stop her siblings and her uncle stealing her mother's money and jewelry.

When considering food as a part of my identity, there are multiple components that make up who I am. It is a mix of family heritage, experiences, and personal preferences, which all culminate together to form my food identity. While some might see their food identity as one culture, concept, or idea, I see my food identity as a variety. This variety consists of what foods I like and the memories associated with them. Specifically, my memories and experiences with my family have contributed to what I believe to be my food identity.

We make assumptions of people based on where they live, what they eat, where they grew up and what occupation they have. Instead of forcing integration on people, personal interaction with cultural diversity could be more effective, which is illustrated by author Jessica Harris. In The Culinary Season of My Childhood, Harris describes her experiences in learning cultural diversity through food. She states, “…and these seasons of my personal and yet very New York childhood gave me the foods of the world on my plate,” (119) Her article discusses the different cuisines that played important parts in her childhood as well as developing her understanding of diversity.

The first time I got into food was in high school. I worked in various restaurants, first for Naomi Pomeroy at her coffee shop when I was 16 and then at Biwa in college. Those experiences, along with my mom’s amazing home cooking, gave me an appreciation for good food early and a grounding in the Portland food scene. In college, I studied art and political science, and fell in love with writing and with Graywolf Publishing, which published the most beautiful books. From there, I ended up landing jobs at Harcourt and then Penguin Books. In my free time, I started cooking as a way to release my creative energy. I taught myself by reading Epicurious and food blogs. I ended up interning at a neighborhood restaurant in Brooklyn on nights and weekends making desserts. That’s how I got into food the second time. Through my publishing and my food experience, I was able to get a job at Bon Appetit when it

I have many different cultures al mixed up into one. One culture is expressed at home and another is shown when I’m outside doing an activity or at school. My culture at home is Peruvian. My Peruvian culture is shown through the music and activities my family does at home. For instance, at home sometimes my grandfather plays music in Quechua. Also, in holidays such as Christmas, we celebrate by eating a traditional bread with hot chocolate. The main part of my Peruvian culture is the food. Everyday my family eats Peruvian food. My mom cooks food such as lomo saltado, papa rellena, and cau cau.

Food plays a major role in defining our identity. Whether one is aware of it or not, our food preference gives a sense of one's culture. Many times, when ask someone what they like to eat; they will fluently dictate the food, the kind, and the taste. However, if you ask them why, they are usually inarticulate in explaining it. Therefore, since food is intertwined with culture, then, by scrutinizing and knowing one's taste of food would surely direct us to his cultural background. And it happens because as human beings, authenticity matters to our identity as a cultural group, or even personal. But if we ponder on that, it is quite mind-blowing the fact that we can by simply look at one taste of food, and can tell about their background.

On May 1st, 2016 I hit the jackpot when I got hired at one of the two businesses in Findlay that wasn’t Food Service, and actually hired teenagers. Plus I got to be out on the lake and get paid for it. I thought, why not? What could go wrong? So, I got up in the morning, got dressed, and drove the two miles to work. When I pulled into the parking lot, a Jeep was there waiting for me with an older woman in it. She introduced herself as Brenda, and I learned that she would be training me. I walked with Brenda into the Marina’s main building to clock in by grabbing my time card and using a machine to stamp the time and date on it. Then, I made the fourth of a mile walk down to the water where the gas dock is. During the walk, Brenda told be about

My mama Nila took some of her precious time to teach me how to cook. I remember that at first, I learned to heat the oven to 350 and then, heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. That temperature is very high so, I was afraid of getting burned. But my grandma made it easy for me because she just held my little hand and turn on the oven. This made me feel more confident, and secure because she was next to me. Next, I learned to add onion, celery, salt, and peppers to pan; sauté 6 minutes or until onion is tender. Then, Mama Nila taught me how to combine cornstarch and beef, tossing well to coat. I tried to mix the ingredients with a circular motion until well blended, but it was a little bit difficult to blend because it was my first time doing it. So mama Nila told me to be patient and keep do it until I get all the ingredients in a uniform consistency form. I kept trying it, until I got it right, and that makes me happy because I learned how to blend the mixture

Food is something that is not inherited, it is learned, much like culture. When I was about three years old, my parents moved from Argentina to America. Since all we knew was Spanish, we found ourselves associating with many other Hispanics. One thing that I find all these cultures have in common is food. Food is something that ties us all to our roots, to our families, to our heritage, to our culture. Argentina, Mexico, and America, my take on food shows my family’s migrations and changes, it is who I am and will become, it is my cultural identity.

I find that food defines me, and my family by its humble upbringings that remind us all to remember where we come from. My parents came from Romania to escape Communism in 1989 by moving to the United States to give me and my siblings a better life. One food in particular that represents my family's heritage, is the plate called "Ciorba" which translates to bean soup. Not only does it taste amazing but it's always a dish that resembles how grateful I am to have parents that sacrificed a lot of their life to give me a better upbringing. Every time I eat Ciorba I always feel that a part of my parent's history was surviving on what they could in Communist Romania and realizing the freedom I have each bite I take of this cherished meal.

I think of my food heritage as second-hand heritage. I never had a rich food heritage growing up, but my parents did. They both grew up on farms in rural Romania. They raised their own chickens, cows, and pigs. They knew, and on a daily basis did, milk cows, collect eggs, kill and pluck a chicken to cook, and made do with the grains and produce they grew themselves. My mother told me the story of how she was a teenager when she tried coffee for the first time. I, on the other hand, grew up in Florida about fifteen years after my parents moved to America. My mother still cooked the same food that she was taught to make and eat when she was growing up in Romania, but she went grocery shopping a few blocks away for her chicken and flour instead

Before my grandmother was a Mimis, She was a Deabenderfer. Her grandparents were Buggeys. In the Buggeys household on friday nights boxing was the highlight. Many times the middle room was the way to the bathroom. So the kids were forced to walk around the house, rain or shine to get to the bathroom. In 2010, one of my grandmothers cousins asked to have me signed up for boxing. The idea of myself dishing out my childhood pains and bad memories was like finding a diamond in the rough. My Grandparents (grandmother) said no. So that was the end of that. My brother had a sixth graduation and dinner, my sisters came to my house after the graduation and turned on the UFC. It was nothing like I saw before. It was fighting. I had no clue who the fighters

Culinary art is a momentous part of my life.When I was around the age of nine I was living with both my mom and dad. I was always in the kitchen helping my mom cook dinner. I made baked ziti, empanadas, sweet potato pie, and other foods.When I was in high school, I lived with my father,and after my older siblings grew up it was just me and my little sister so I was responsible for cooking the meals. I was cooking for my family an average of seven days a week and I was never tired or bored, I enjoyed it. I developed a strong passion for culinary arts. I am passionate about it because it excites me, inspires me, and encourages me to open a restaurant.

As a foodie, eating foods is my favorite thing and I also find my speciality in eating, that is tasting food and know the condiment in every dishes. When I was a child, I usually go to kitchen to see adults cooking. My intention is not to learn how to cook, but to know where the dishes that I felt very delicious from out of curiosity. As time passed, I knew the recipe of every dishes that I like gradually and learned how to improve it taste. I born at a country that have many delicious foods and the cuisine like to use many kinds of condiments. Through the process of knowing the recipe of cuisine, I also learned many condiments and their use.