food rib essays

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Food rib essays

Do I just enjoy the prospect of unspoken understanding, interpreting the complex, and actually succeeding? For many reasons, my connection and experiences with these animals have been a major part of shaping who I am today. Nothing teaches patience like trying to catch 22 rogue quail in your backyard. I incubated 32 quail eggs and every day I dedicated my afternoons to watching the eggs, checking the water levels, and making sure the temperature was okay.

In the days leading up to the expected hatch date, I sat there, face centimeters away from the glass, talking to them and waiting for any signs of movement. Once they did hatch, taking care of them wasn't easy and I had to learn a lot about how they acted.

I have taken these traits of patience and adaptability into other areas of my life. For example, in crew, creating the ideal "set" in a boat takes eight people working in perfect unison and this is rarely the case. Learning how to love crew for what it is took time. I've perhaps learned more about trust from my foster lamb, Lola, than I have from humans.

She came from a farm that we later learned abused and abuses its animals and experiences high death rates of baby animals. Lola was really sick and needed constant attention 24 hours a day. Because of her previous bad experiences with humans, letting herself be vulnerable with me was significant to me. I had to trust that it was worth all of the effort and if I gave her my attention, she would get better.

This ability to build trust has been important in my life in other areas, whether it be animals, plants, or working with my peers in Peer Connections. Though some of the students in Peer Connections had challenges communicating, I've been able to create trust and form real friendships through the things I learned from Lola: empathy, openness, and attentive care.

And trying to maintain a saltwater aquarium for my seahorse taught me a lot about science. Saltwater aquariums are especially difficult because they involve simulating a large and complicated ecosphere. The levels of alkanes, nitrates, nitrites, ammonia, salinity, and pH are extremely important and must be maintained by an established community of nitrifying bacteria that will detoxify the water.

Although the process of creating this ecosystem took many months, I was also able to connect with my dad. I learned from him how to take something you are passionate about and apply it in a practical way. Some lessons I have had to learn the hard way. I was heartbroken when my bird Jules died by hand, for example, or when I had to watch my dad cut the heads off chickens I had raised.

And even though at the time these seemed like the worst thing that could happen, learning how to grieve and being able to honor life after it's gone has been valuable. Raising animals exposed me to quantitative things like science and animal husbandry, but also qualitative things such as intuition and communication. All my interactions with my animals have been transformative in my development and understanding of myself and society.

I believe most great essays illustrate four qualities: core values as we've discussed , insight in other words, an illuminating answer to the question, "so what? Here's how this essay shows each of these:. Note how each animal is connected to a different value:.

Slap on an intro and a conclusion, and you've basically got an essay outline right there. Note how the author answers "so what" at least once in every paragraph. I appreciate in particular these two excerpts: "Learning how to love crew for what it is took time" and "I learned from [my dad] how to take something you are passionate about and apply it in a practical way.

I find this essay to be vulnerable in a few ways, in particular this part: "I was heartbroken when my bird Jules died by hand, for example, or when I had to watch my dad cut the heads off chickens I had raised. I love the specificity of his details, particularly in the author's description of what he's learned from raising the seahorse: "The levels of alkanes, nitrates, nitrites, ammonia, salinity, and pH are extremely important and must be maintained by an established community of nitrifying bacteria that will detoxify the water.

Three days a week, my great-grandfather Pop brought home ribs. After dinner, he'd go around the table inspecting each plate, making sure each rib was stripped down to the bone. If he found one morsel, you couldn't be excused. Pop believed that, before you could leave the table, you had to finish your ribs.

This lesson has stuck with me. Whether I'm staying up until two in the morning to figure out the Radius of Convergence of a Power Series or identifying solutions to countless concerns issued by my school district, I strive to finish my ribs. But this is just one of many lessons food has taught me During Thanksgiving, instead of going around the table to express "thanks," my family writes notes on the tablecloth—the same one for the past 26 years.

You'll find thoughts from my Dad. But only until Or corny jokes from my step-dad. And you'll read "Family is everything" from my great-grandmother Non. My family is far from perfect, but it's in the presence of a tablecloth where time freezes and I begin to feel an unfamiliar sense of stability. It's where my brother Noah told my Dad he loved him after six years of not communicating; where Mom sat next to Dad without a lawyer by their side, and where my family has gathered for every birthday at the same restaurant since I was four.

To me, eating means celebrating—culture, people, life. And I celebrated Non's life by trying a dish I've feared since my first Passover: Gefilte fish, a stuffed seafood concoction. It's not the taste I remember clearly but rather how it began a cascade of tasting other Jewish foods—chopped liver, beef tongue, pickled herring.

In the time since, I've realized Gefilte fish is more than just the unfamiliar food tucked away in my great-grandma's fridge, it represents the opportunities that arise from trying new things. In some cases, Gefilte fish has meant testing different locations of bins to minimize food waste in a school with no cafeteria. Or researching how biofortification can create an allosteric inhibitor reducing the release of ethylene, thus increasing the shelf life of produce. The lessons I learn through food aren't just limited to traditional meals, though.

For the past five years, I've sold Otter Pops, a type of popsicle, at Spokane's annual race. Every year my business growsI hire new employees to manage new stands throughout the course to sell thousands of Pops. But while my popsicle empire expands, one thing remains true: I take a break amid the chaos to eat my own Otter Pops.

It's the same reason I play volleyball with friends after a long week of school and swim in the river with my football teammates after we finish conditioning. I take tremendous pride in these things; in fact, I find them necessary. And when I cook, I transform a part of raw Earth into raw culture.

Preparing steak enables me to remember my great-grandfather while eating it reminds me of its destruction to the environment. This is how I understand the world— I cook to discover myself; I eat to learn about the world around me. But we've become a product of the industrial food system, leading us to believe food is just another commodity and rendering us unable to identify that it exists at the seed of our very identity.

This is why I want to study Anthropology and Public Policy--to restore the bond between humans, food, and culture and to create the policies that will ensure those who are food insecure have the same opportunity to do so themselves. I have so much left to eat in this worldso much to change, so much to create, and even more to impact.

Like the author above, this author connects each example to a different value:. Again, these examples and values make up his outline, and each one becomes a paragraph. You can also think of each one as a "scene" in the "movie" of his essay. This author answers "so what" in illuminating ways. My favorite insight is: "This is how I understand the world— I cook to discover myself; I eat to learn about the world around me. I love the paragraph in which the author shares about his family's tablecloth: "It's in the presence of a tablecloth where time freezes and I begin to feel an unfamiliar sense of stability.

The author's writing is concise and powerful. In particular, I love the bit that reads, "You'll find thoughts from my Dad. But only until ," and the way he closes the essay with the simple phrase, "I'm hungry. If you've already completed these, skip to 2. If you haven't, read the box below. I Love. Spend one minute making a random list of things you love.

If you have a partner nearby, set a timer and speak your list aloud while your partner writes down what you say. Examples: I love I love Then switch roles, and you write while your partner makes their list. Here's a video of me doing this one.

Recipes for spare ribs appear in cookbooks and newspapers with greater frequency in the closing decades of the 19th century. Many advised cutting the ribs into three-bone pieces and parboiling them before seasoning and finishing on a hot gridiron over coals in a kitchen fireplace. Others called for roasting them in an oven over a bed of sauerkraut and serving with applesauce, mashed potatoes, and mustard.

Instead, they helped transform the way Americans ate their barbecue. It was served at occasional, large-scale gatherings where whole animals were cooked outdoors on open pits. These events were typically provided free of charge as part of community Fourth of July celebrations or political campaigns. As the country urbanized, though, entrepreneurial cooks started selling slow-smoked meats on city street corners and in courthouse squares. Often these were farmers who slaughtered one or two of their own pigs, cooked them on a pit, and took the meat into town to sell over the weekend.

The first barbecue stands were informal operations—just a tent or temporary shed—but over time they evolved into permanent restaurants, and their operators began offering a regular slate of meats. They increasingly bought those meats from local packing houses instead of raising the animals themselves, and many restaurateurs started buying individual cuts like shoulders and hams instead of whole pigs.

Those local packers had plenty of spare ribs on hand, too, which they were happy to unload for cheap. In the s, A. In fact, a surprising number of the stands selling spare ribs were found in Iowa—which, perhaps not coincidentally, was prime hog-producing territory. The Yankees swept the St. In large cities—particularly those with a sizable African-American community—ribs emerged as a late-night staple for the nightclub crowd, as club owners set up small pits behind their establishments and cooked a few racks to sell to hungry revelers.

In the movie editor for the Detroit Times returned from a visit to the East Side to report that "barbecue spare ribs in the doorway emporiums of the black belt" were also drawing in lots of white customers. Ribs were a hit among the late-night crowd in Memphis, too. He cooked his ribs on a charcoal-fired brick pit in the alley out back and mopped them with a peppery hot sauce.

Two decades before Charlie Vergos started selling his now-legendary dry-rubbed ribs at The Rendezvous, Mills was drawing a steady crowd of musicians and celebrities like Kate Smith and Bing Crosby, who always stopped by for ribs when they were in town.

By the s, barbecued ribs could be found at thousands of barbecue stands, nightclubs, and cafes across the country. In the years just after World War II, ribs crossed over to the menus at high-end restaurants, as well. In , the syndicated food columnist Ida Bailey Allen noted, "People pay fancy prices to nibble at barbecued spare ribs in a swanky restaurant," bemused that a once-humble cut had gone uptown. Ribs were in high demand for backyard barbecuing, too, as that form of home entertainment surged in the post-War years.

In , the New York Times declared, "This increasingly popular cut of meat inevitably will claim the attention of almost every outdoor cook during the summer season ahead. This same period witnessed the emergence of the so-called St. Louis-style rib. On a full rack of spare ribs, there is a line where each of the long bones ends and a short length of cartilage and fat begins.

Butchers in St. Louis took to slicing away the tips also called the "brisket" or "collar" and removing the short, pointed end of the rack just past the 13th bone. The result was a long, squared-off slab that let diners chew the meat straight off the long bones without worrying about all the cartilage and fat on the ends. Louis Post Dispatch. It describes the rib-cooking method of Adolph Feiler, the chef at the decidedly swanky Forest Park Hotel, who barbecued ribs on a charcoal rotisserie with electric powered spits, swabbing the meat at frequent intervals with a tomato-based sauce.

In , Elaine Viets of the St. Louis Post Dispatch interviewed retired local butcher Robert F. Eggleston, who recalled that in the post-War era there were 15 to 20 meat-packing establishments around St. The St. Louis packers took off about half that collar. It cost consumers a little more, but it was a better value.

Rib lovers bought it. That was the St. Louis cut rib.

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While our ribs cook, we listen to the people on TV shout about and the dysfunctional relationship between independence and explosives. We read articles about how some of the earliest weapons wielded by human hands were the rib-bones of animals and sometimes fellow humans , filed into sharp points.

The bark on the rib, the cage on top of the cage. To get to the middles of all hard things, all it takes is an axe and the capacity for the chopping. We go back outside. Our mouths are like the ribs themselves: such soft anatomy into which bones are pressed, the teeth the cage for the tongue, and the tongue, when unleashed, capable of so much damage and delight.

The best-protected thing, we think, is the thing with the juiciest of secrets. Our mouths, still, are the tools of war here. That pig is still dead. Here, the tongue mops the last of the rub from the rib, the last of the meat from the bone, the last of the meat being its juice. We bite with these mouths made stupid with spice, and our superior labial frenula—those sexy cords connecting the insides of our upper lips to our gums—shudder with the spice as if plucked, as if, in tearing the meat from the rib, our mouths—if not our hunger—are building some horrible new instrument.

We wonder if all that light and noise will finally be revealed as another kind of violence cloaking itself in tradition and celebration, desperation and dogma. Here, we bite into our ribs, and the steam escapes, commingles with the smoke that cooked them. This rub is different from all other rubs, which affects the tenderness of the meat, the caress of teeth to pig, the sort of kiss that is tipped in our favor, the sort of devotion to explosives that leads to our downfall.

We wonder about the sort of freedom that begets shame, the sort of atrocity that trails independence like a parachute trying to slow some out-of-control racecar down. According to George R. They remembered the great city of ancient Egypt, and called their new venture Memphis. This explanation by Meathead Goldwyn of AmazingRibs. But no one was putting slabs of ribs on barbecue pits back in the 19th century. Instead, barbecued ribs are an early 20th century innovation, one driven not by the distribution of pig pars on a plantation but by the rise of industrial meatpacking, mechanical refrigeration, and commercial barbecue stands.

And our barbecue menus are richer and our fingers stickier as a result. A hog killing on a 19th-century farm was a laborious but celebratory event, with the whole family and plenty of neighbors and friends pitching in. Almost every part of the pig was put to good use. The blood was reserved for puddings and the fat rendered into lard in giant kettles.

The carcasses were then allowed to chill overnight and the next morning were cut into hams, shoulders, and "middlings" side meat or bacon , which were taken to the smokehouse and preserved by curing and smoking. The parts left behind—the chine backbone , the tenderloins, the chitterlings intestines , and the ribs—were eaten over the next few days. Those traditional hog-killing dinners featured fresh roasted spare ribs and chine served with bread, potatoes, apples sauce, and cabbage or greens.

And they might well be the only fresh pork a farm family enjoyed all year. There was one exception to this, though. At big events, where the entire community gathered, farmers could take a few pigs to a shady grove where a barbecue pit awaited, slaughter them and remove the entrails right on the spot, and put the whole animals on the pit to cook. Barbecue originated not as a way of "making do" with lesser cuts, but rather as a method of whole-animal cookery—one usually staged for a large crowd.

Plenty of primary sources, however, describe or illustrate whole carcasses of pigs, goats, lambs, and even cows being cooked over a bed of coals in pits dug in the ground. When people in the 19th century ate barbecued ribs, they pulled the meat from a whole pig that was already cooked.

As the century advanced, ribs became available in greater and greater quantities, provided you lived in the right place—namely, a city like Indianapolis or Louisville, where hogs were being packed and processed to ship around the country. Industrial pork packing arose in the early decades of the century, driven first by improved river navigation and then by the expansion of railroads.

Cincinnati, blessed with a prime position on the Ohio River and close to burgeoning cornfields and hog farms, emerged as "Porkopolis," the largest pork-producing city in the world at the time. In these early days, the tools and procedures used to slaughter a hog in a commercial setting were not so different from those of a rural hog killing; it was just conducted on a much larger scale, with each step—dispatching the pig with a blow from a hammer, scalding the carcass in boiling water, scraping the hair away—performed by a different worker, on an assembly line of sorts.

Barrels were essential to the pork trade. Instead, they packed the hams and shoulders in barrels, filled in the gaps with chines, hocks, and jowls, then poured in a sweet and salty "pickle" made from rock salt and brown sugar boiled in water. That started to change in the s, when artificial ice-making and then mechanical refrigeration transformed meat packing from a seasonal to a year-round business. Now packers could hang onto spareribs and sell them to retailers as a low-cost cut.

Recipes for spare ribs appear in cookbooks and newspapers with greater frequency in the closing decades of the 19th century. Many advised cutting the ribs into three-bone pieces and parboiling them before seasoning and finishing on a hot gridiron over coals in a kitchen fireplace. Others called for roasting them in an oven over a bed of sauerkraut and serving with applesauce, mashed potatoes, and mustard.

Instead, they helped transform the way Americans ate their barbecue. It was served at occasional, large-scale gatherings where whole animals were cooked outdoors on open pits. These events were typically provided free of charge as part of community Fourth of July celebrations or political campaigns. As the country urbanized, though, entrepreneurial cooks started selling slow-smoked meats on city street corners and in courthouse squares.

Often these were farmers who slaughtered one or two of their own pigs, cooked them on a pit, and took the meat into town to sell over the weekend. The first barbecue stands were informal operations—just a tent or temporary shed—but over time they evolved into permanent restaurants, and their operators began offering a regular slate of meats.

They increasingly bought those meats from local packing houses instead of raising the animals themselves, and many restaurateurs started buying individual cuts like shoulders and hams instead of whole pigs.

Those local packers had plenty of spare ribs on hand, too, which they were happy to unload for cheap. In the s, A. In fact, a surprising number of the stands selling spare ribs were found in Iowa—which, perhaps not coincidentally, was prime hog-producing territory. The Yankees swept the St. In large cities—particularly those with a sizable African-American community—ribs emerged as a late-night staple for the nightclub crowd, as club owners set up small pits behind their establishments and cooked a few racks to sell to hungry revelers.

In the movie editor for the Detroit Times returned from a visit to the East Side to report that "barbecue spare ribs in the doorway emporiums of the black belt" were also drawing in lots of white customers. Ribs were a hit among the late-night crowd in Memphis, too.

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The best food in the world to eat is ribs. First off they have a strange look to them. While sitting down to eat some they look filling because there is just so much sauce on them. The first thing you think of when you see them is how messy they are, it has so much sauce on them it almost looks as it was a bloody murder. When I see ribs they are so overwhelming I cant even finish 3 whole ribs I feel like they would fill you for months. While being sturdy they are also very tender the meat feels soft enough to tear off without your teeth.

Lastly they feel sticky when you go eat ribs you have to be prepared to be covered in sauce. What do they taste like? Well I will tell you, they taste sweet but not cotton candy sweet but sweet like its slight but noticeable. When I eat ribs they taste flat out amazing there taste is indescribable. They sound awesome, when you hear the name you feel like you just became a millionaire. While eating them they are quiet, but you need the peace and quiet to learn to appreciate them.

While being prepared they sizzle, but when you hear the name you think of how juicy they are. When you cooked them you think of smoked, and as you cook you can only imaging how delicious they smell. To steam ribs you start by buying one or more whole racks of ribs from a grocery store or meat market. I prefer to get my ribs at a meat market because the have more meat on them and they seem to be of a better quality.

Once you get your ribs home take them out of the packaging and lightly coat the ribs with vegetable oil, using your hand or a brush. You can purchase rib rub at most grocery stores or meat markets. Rib rub is ground spices, it helps the barbeque sauce stick to the ribs better.

The surface of the ribs should be completely covered with a layer of the rub. Wrap each rack of ribs in two layers of plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator for 4 to 24 hours. This step is optional, but it does seem to add more flavor to the ribs. If you are in a hurry, leave them in the refrigerator for only 4 hours. If you are making them for the next day, 24 hours works the best. After the ribs have marinated with the rub, take the ribs from the refrigerator and remove the plastic wrapping.

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