In intermediate writing on Friday, we talked about writing for taste. It’s probably terrible to discount any of the six senses in writing (the sixth sense being intuition), but nonetheless, I suppose taste was always on the backburner for me. Intrinsically, I discounted taste as a sense to use for extremely specific situations, but then I realized the power of taste.

Taste is not just something on your tongue — perhaps even more than smell or sight, taste has the profound ability to bring the writer back to a certain memory or a very specific time in his or her life.

Ribs remind me of Sunday dinners. My dad stoked the fire of his smoker; his well-worn hands added hickory chips to the flames as he tried to find the perfect beer pairing for his homemade dry rub. It also reminds me of steaks and deep-dish pizza — the staples of my family’s diet.

Whenever I’m having a rough week, I pine for the sweet simplicity of sitting on the deck and feasting on fresh food. Writing about taste allows me the freedom to transfer that desire to the masses.