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.
Lovely observation about taste
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