Essay #1
“Have a Taste of Me”
Crunch! As my teeth bit into the skin, the juice explodes onto my taste buds, giving me a succulent pleasure, if only for a brief moment, but seemingly lasting forever. This is how I remember the first time I had a crisp, juicy apple. The sense of taste is a wondrous experience that I have the pleasure of having. According to Webster’s dictionary, one of the definitions on the word taste is, “to become acquainted with by experience.” This definition holds very true, not only to the word, but to my personal experience with this word, and of the sense we call taste. The sense of taste is very unique, in that even though I simply taste or eat a food or item, I bury the opinion that I’ve had on that specific taste forever.
I find it fascinating that we don’t stop to think of just how complex our sense of taste really is. I can taste something that I enjoy, or dislike, and remember to have that satisfying taste again, or not to. With all of these memories being compiled in my brain, it is interesting to know how certain foods or tastes bring back memories that have been locked in my mind. This fact has become a constant reminder to me of just how easy my mind can be opened like a sealed vault, and all of the information rushed out to me all at once in the few seconds it takes to taste a particular food. In my case, the apple is the key to the memory vault in my mind. All I need to do to open the vault is to taste the key; to taste the apple, for the memories to begin.
I can still recall how I would wake up early in the morning as a young child. I would do what seemed to be my daily ritual of getting a shower, which was an attempt to wake me up, but to no avail. I would get dressed, and while doing all of this; my mother would yell up the steps “Are you awake yet?” Of course I would answer, “Yes”, but in reality I was only awake enough to answer that word. I would drudge my way down the steps, and head to the kitchen. It was there that I would have breakfast. Breakfast was different every morning, but the one thing that remained constant was at the end of every breakfast, my mother and I would each have an apple, and talk about a variety of topics.
It’s just astounding on how such a simple food could spring up so much conversation between two people. Food has always brought me close to my family, friends, and loved ones. As Brillat-Savarin said, “every…sociability…can be found assembled around the same table: love, friendship, business, speculation, power, importunity, patronage, ambition, intrigue. If an event is meant to matter emotionally, symbolically, or mystically, food will be close at hand to sanctify and bind it.”
Although at the time, these “apple sessions” as I called them, didn’t seem that much of an important matter. When I look back upon the times, I realize that it was then that I learned some of the most important things in my life. This was the time that I would actually just stop and talk with my mother. Nothing is better than knowing that when you wake up each morning, there is someone there that loves you, and you have the opportunity to talk to them. I wouldn’t talk to her much during the day after school. I was too busy going out with friends, or staying in my room using the computer to talk to my friends, which now seems like such a redundant lifestyle. Although as it seemed I didn’t give a damn every day, I can still remember no matter what, the same thing would go on every morning. We would sit, have an apple, and talk. It’s funny what the emotion of love can do with people. It was very clear that I rarely talked to her besides the morning. When she would want to talk, or do anything at night, I would complain to myself, because I would rather have spent time with my friends or use the computer. Unfortunately, we never realize what we have until it’s gone.
I can never forget the day my mother died. The morning was like any other. We had our apple and we talked about what I did the night before with my friends, and how she was looking forward to going to work that day because she got a friend a gift for her birthday. I remember something distinctively different that day that stood out from the rest though. Before I left for school, I gave her a hug, and told her that I loved her; which was something I rarely did. I went to school, and the day went on. As I was leaving school, there were 2 policemen standing at the entrance with our principal. It was then I was told that my mother was killed during a car pile-up on the interstate during her commute home.
The sense of taste has a play on my emotions, as well as on my mind and body. Taste can bring out my happiness, sadness, anger, etc. This is all done by taste, again opening up the vault to our memories. Some tastes can bring out a mix of our memories, and emotions. Just as the taste of the apple is the key to some of the happiest moments in my memory; it also is the key to some of the darkest, despairing, mournful memories as well. No matter how much I tell my mind to only think of the good, my mind must always show both sides of the coin. To every aspect of good that is in the human mind, on the other side is just as well, the dark.
As I look back on that day, I realize how the days can go by just like any other, and how I never stopped to think of how important people in my life can be gone in an instant. It struck me the most when the next morning, I came downstairs to the kitchen, and realized that the morning apple sessions were now over. I would never be able to have that apple, and talk with my mother again. As I ate an apple that morning, the taste that I loved every morning seemed to have faded away, as if it vanished just as night does with the rising of the sun. Perhaps, the taste I had for the apple was true, in that I did enjoy the flavor; but the true love was not fully in the apple, but for what the apple represented to me individually. It meant time I had with a loved one, and it was time the carelessly passed me by. Out of all of the time we had, it had me realize that the love isn’t in the apple, but for the person I shared the apple with. Of course, I enjoy the taste of the apple. But taste is not only what we put onto our taste buds, it’s the memories and experiences we have had. Just as our taste buds change as we get older, so do our thoughts and our memories. The older we get, the more experiences we encounter.
The apple starts out as such a little fruit. It takes time, care, and energy for it to grow into the full apple that we enjoy to eat. The apple does remind me of the horrible memories that I must face; but it also reminds me of how my life was just like the life of an apple. I started out young, with very little knowledge, experience, or many thoughts. As time, love, and energy were put into my life, I grew. The outside of the apple is the hard skin, which represents the “shell” that I put on to protect me from hurt, and pain. Just as there is the outside of the apple, there is also the inside which is the softer, juicy, flavorful part. This is how I look at my personality. My personality, thoughts, and feelings are inside my body. The inside of a person can tell you so much more than just the outside appearance. Although I will never have those moments with my mother again, and wish I would have spent more time with her; I can be happy knowing that I can always remember the moments we did have. I can remember all of the memories by using my sense of taste. I can open up the vault that is my mind with the key. That key just so happens to be the crunch of a crisp, juicy apple.
Works Cited
Webster, “Definition of the word “taste.”.” Merriam-Webster. 26 Jan 2009 <http://www.Merriam-Webster.com>.
Brillat-Savarin, Anthelme, trans. And annotated by M. F. K. Fisher. The Physiology of Taste. San Francisco, California: North Point Press, 1986.
