Reflection on a piece

The post I’m writing a reflection on is titled “Confession of a Meat-Lover.” It is one of the earliest blog posts I made this semester when we discussed the theme of “gender and food.” Back then, I wrote mainly in the narrative (and I still do). 

This piece’s introduction could use more work. While it is satisfactorily clear, it is not the clearest it could be. The tie between masculinity and strength, along with raw food, is not a clear cut one and could be improved on with an extra paragraph, perhaps giving history and other sources of evidence that can further clarify the distinction. 

The narrative part is smooth and tells a nice story. More senses could be incorporated. 

The ending seems a little abrupt. It could be elaborated on once again with history and other sources of evidence that can draw out the shape of the passage. Evidence can help clarify the argument and strengthen it. 

Overall, the piece, while smooth and descriptive, lacks a degree of substance or well-developed argument that could help flesh it out. 

Faust Writing

On a rainy night at the racquet club, I had dinner with Jason. There were only a few days left before I head off to college. The full blow of that thought hadn’t hit my mind yet; I tried to keep it away. I hung on desperately to the glorious days of summer, trying to meet with as many of my friends as possible to keep that feeling of security alive. 

We had a fancy meal of steak and mashed potatoes. The pitter-patter of rain was barely audible outside as we talked under the candlelight, friend to friend, student to student, brother to brother. We talked under the eaves of the restaurant when we were finished, about everything: the social scene, the future we had planned for ourselves, and any remaining high school drama that still remained unspoken of at the time. We made promises to each other about the goals we wanted and hoped to keep them. The night passed in an almost magical scene - the rain, the emotions, and the final goodbye.

Fast forward a few months:

I found myself sitting in the corner of a restaurant by myself. I am two months into college. The time was 10:34 PM. I was alone as all my friends were out at an event. Already, a few buckets of sweat and tireless hours studying for exams, a few parties, events, and a broken relationship had gone by. My order soon came. Steak and potatoes. 

My mind was triggered back to that rainy night that seemed like years ago. That same feeling of nostalgia came rushing back and I wondered where the time had gone. All the promises we promised each other led me to wonder if they were being kept. Two months seemed so long with the twists and turns of college life, almost as if I were reaching into a past, trying to hold onto some moment that grounded me, and yet coming back empty-handed, or at least, with the sand falling through between my fingers:

Undoubtedly what is thus palpitating in the depths of my being must be the image, the visual memory which, being linked to that taste, is trying to follow it into my conscious mind. But its struggles are too far off, too confused and chaotic; scarcely can I perceive the neutral glow into which the elusive whirling medley of stirred-up colours is fused, and I cannot distinguish its form, cannot invite it, as the one possible interpreter, to translate for me the evidence of its contemporary, its inseparable paramour, the taste, cannot ask it to inform me what special circumstance is in question, from what period in my past life.

Pie Post - Forgotten Feelings Pie

This pie is composed of everything sweets. From its cotton candy insides to its frosted exterior with M&Ms, it is everything one would expect from first dates, or trips to the movie theater. 

The pie consists of:

• 4 small bags of Valentine’s Day M&Ms
• a bag of popcorn
• hunks of cotton candy
• a few servings of ice cream sundaes
• a cup of coffee
• and dough to mix it all together

When the pie is out of the oven, it is steaming and looks ready to burst. The sides of the pie are blackened and the skin looks like its about to crumble. Decorate the top with large hearings of frosting and draw, using red frosting, a heart across the top in half. 

This pie is used to symbolize a love that has been broken. The insides are made from the foods one and his or her significant other has shared before in the past. Happier times have now become moments of regret and anger. The pie itself bulges at the sides not only because the ingredients are so unorthodox, but because they symbolize all the feelings of repression of emotions one may undergo at the end of a relationship. 

By eating the pie, symbolically, one is swallowing those fears and pains; he or she is moving forward and looking ahead. 

First Draft for Food Blog Revisions

For my first Food Blog draft, I talked about Fugu and the controversy the dish has caused in Japan over whether farm-raised Fugu without poison should be allowed or not.

My peer reviewer suggested that I add more descriptions that match the narrative I tell through the blog post. In addition, he suggested that I add more about the effects of Fugu-poisoning and more specific details about preparing Fugu.

Overall, my post needs more descriptions and information from my sources to further flesh it out.




For my second Food Blog draft, I talked about Anisakiasis, an infection that can result from eating raw fish.

My peer reviewer said that the information I incorporated in my post is very interesting and overall, quite alluring. However, he pointed out that the piece lacks a central argument. The piece is more informative than argumentative. My peer reviewer also pointed out that the ordering in my blog could be better: I could talk about how I love eating raw food first, then gradually transition to the narrative, and then the argument. I agree.

Overall, this piece has the information, but needs a cohesive argument to bring the pieces together.