Burger King is where it's at.

Out of the various fast food locations Burger King is one of my favorites. Every time I eat at Burger King I am always satisfied. The burgers just melt in your mouth and they include a lot of fresh vegetables on their whoppers. The fries are SO much better than McDonald's because they are so crispy and delicious. Just thinking about the flame-broiled taste of Burger King burgers makes me realize why it is called "Burger King." It is indeed the "king" of burger joints.

Just the other day, after I purchased my double whopper with cheese, the cashier handed me the iconic brown paper bag and I happened to notice what was written on the bag. It said, "Smells Like a Winner," in larger bold font and I couldn't help reading the paragraph below it: "You always hear sports announcers talk about the sweet 'smell of success.' But none of them ever really explains what that smells like. We'd like to propose it's the scent wafting from this very bag. Of course, we could be wrong. But we don't think so." Of course, I opened up the bag and they were right! It smelled amazing!

And have you seen the commercials? They're hilarious! Burger King is where it's at.

Korean BBQ at Georgia Tech

Last night, I decided to go to CRC with my friend David whom I used to go to same high school with and his two other friends. Towards the end of our work out, David suggested little cook out. Hungry I was, happily agreed on his plan. I was surprised at the equipment and amount of food he has in store in his room. He had rice cooker, electric grill, saucepan, rice, kimchi…etc.


Our plan was to cook in the smith’s 3rd floor kitchen. Since our main menu pork belly barbecue, the main problem with cooking inside the building was smoke. We did not want smoke detector to go off. The first solution came to our mind was simply opening the window; however, it did no help. Before we have even started cooking, the room was filling up with smoke. Secondly, we tried to use a vent attached to a stove, but it failed us too. Running up and down the building, we looked for an alternate place for us to cook in. After failing a few times, finally we found the perfect place. First floor! With an extension cord, we were able to cook outside. Even though it ruined what we intended, cooking and eating indoor in comfort, we were thrilled.


When the food was ready, four of us jumped on pork belly and grilled kimchi. I was so hungry by that time; I started eating without praying. The food tasted so good. While I was eating, I was able to forget everything that was stressing me out and could enjoy the food. In the course of our dinner, we had some Koreans living in Smith. We knew they wanted some Korean food. Most of them have never had chance to get Korean food since they left their home. It was a pure joy feeding them and watching them eat in enjoyment.


Through this meal, we all became friends. With a promise to have a dinner like this again, all of us departed to each others room with smile. I know for sure they will remember last night’s dinner for a long time. I would not be surprised if some of them have called their parents last night and told them about their experiences.

HW#1 revised

Sweet-smelling Memory

When smelling the scent of the fish soup, I cannot hold my tears. The aroma floats from people who I love and is the pure flame within my heart, and the fire is hot to my touch and leaves a sweet-smelling odor.

When I lived with my grandmother, life was simple because we stayed in a small town. Every day was different except for one thing: the fish soup. No matter what I did, such as playing all day, walking a long way, or going to see the doctor, I was required to eat the fish soup for some reason that a little girl could never understand. Grandma was always boiling the whole fish on the burner for hours until the soup grew white and thickened, with a sweet smell. Nevertheless, as a naïve girl, I regarded it as a daily assignment and felt frightened about the fish bone. Because every time I felt like that the fish bone was concealed sneakily and ready to attack my tongue and throat. Yet grandma just waited, smiled, and watched as I gulped it down. Then her palm was on my head to comfort me with its warmth.
As time went on, I left the town, left my grandma, and lived in a big city with endless roads and a complicated society. No matter what I did in the city, nothing seemed to change. The city was strange, the people were aloof, and the odor was unfamiliar to me. I felt frozen and recalled the sweet-smelling fish soup. The memory softly brought me back to what I cherished and what I was accustomed to. I suddenly understood that my grandma’s persistence in giving the fish soup to me was a sort of love, which could direct me to the brightness.
I never thought of death. However, when I returned to meet my grandma and wished to consume the soup again, I saw a gaunt figure in bed. She was no longer the healthy person stamped on my memory. There was no smell of the soup but of disinfectant and medicine. It was the first time that I had noticed that the soup tasted the same as tears. The fish soup, since that time, seemed full of fish bones and could drive me to sob so that I couldn’t swallow it.

After my grandma passed away, my mother began to cook the fish soup. Initially it tasted as bitter as my past. I resisted the fish soup just like resisting the memory of my grandma. With the grey color spreading over my mom’s hair, I abruptly discovered that she resembled my grandma, with the same love and unstoppable aging. Actually, the bitterness derived from the short life spans of the people whom I love. Therefore, the sweetness of the fish soup increased as I gradually perceived my mom’s love.
During the tough period of the entrance test for universities, the delicious fish soup always accompanied me. As soon as I detected that my mom slept on the sofa outside my room, with the enticing soup stewed in the kitchen, I couldn’t hold my tears back. At that time, the soup turned bittersweet.
When I got tired and felt unsettled, the soup appeased me like my grandma’s palm. Fish soup acted as the firewood burning brightly in my heart, which impelled me to adapt to the life in big city and get acclimated to the apathy.

I never intended to cook the fish soup for mom before high school. But after I realized that cooking the soup for others was a demonstration of love, I decided to give my mom a surprise. One day while my mom was out, I implemented my plan. Having taken the internal organs out of the fish, I put it in the water with scallion, ginger, and garlic and slowly stewed them. Half an hour was the optimal time to boil it. A little salt was added into the soup when the fish was ripe. As I cooked the soup for the first time in my life and only did as the book instructed, the flavor was as flat as paper. With my expectation collapsed, I felt so embarrassed that I attempted to dump it. At that very moment, mom came back and discovered the poor soup. She was surprised. But she would be disappointed after tasting, I thought. I pretended to be busy with the housework, and glanced at her secretly.
She was so satisfied with the happiness in her eyes that I couldn’t help but asking, “Is it tasty?”
She answered with a sweet smile, “excellent and full of one magical thing.”
“What’s that？” I became curious about “the magical thing.”
“My daughter’s growing up.”
I turned around to hide my wet eyes and sensed some warm liquid flowing on my face. Instantaneously the sweet smell spread over the room with a secret ingredient named happiness.

Leaving my motherland and coming to America, I started my brand-new life and studied in Georgia Tech. there was a new situation, new culture, and new food. Everything was unfamiliar except for one thing: I still owned the memory of the fish soup. After I stepped into this new world, the restlessness, restlessness and homesickness often occupied me. And my loved people were not at my side, which made me helpless. I thought of the fish soup and regarded it as a symbol of my hometown. Cooking it on my own, I tasted the memory that only belonged to me. The fragrant odor of my hometown dragged me to the right route so that I would not lose my heart.

As time elapses, fish soup becomes even more enchanting, stewed with happiness that always moistens my eyes. It irrigates the delicate flower of love which blooms gorgeously and sends forth the fabulous fragrance. All memories gain its engaging smell, flowing like the mild moonlight. Every time I raise my head, the moon of fish soup color gently emits the light on my face like love which always accompanies me.

( pictures takenfrom：http://image2.sina.com.cn/bj/cr/2006/0315/367094801.jpg
http://images.cms.yidaba.com/industry/canyin/shqm/images/pic5a68wrp8.jpg
http://z.abang.com/d/seafood/1/1/F/1/-/-/IMG_2998.JPG )

Grandma's Chocolate Pudding Cake

http://www.1-recipes.com/cake-recipes/Chocolate-pudding-cake-recipe/b-chocolatepudding-cake1.jpg

A few weeks ago, after our cookbook review, I suddenly got the urge to do something I hadn’t done in a long time, cook. So immediately went to my favorite dessert cookbook, that I had just got done writing a review on, and searched for something that would be fairly simple and that we already had all the supplies for at home. Immediately my fell upon a recipe entitled Grandma’s Chocolate pudding Cake, the picture looked delicious and glancing through the ingredients the recipe looked rather simple. Here’s the recipe copied from Chocolate Treats

Cake: 1. Preheat oven to 350F. Grease 8 inch square baking pan, stir together 1/3 cup sugar and 2 tablespoons cocoa; set aside 2. In prepared baking pan stir together 1 cup sugar, ¼ cup cocoa, 1 cup flour, and 2 teaspoons baking powder. Pour in ½ cup milk, 3 tablespoons melted butter, and 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract, until mixture is blended. 3. Spread batter evenly in pan. Sprinkle reserved sugar and cocoa mixture over batter; do not mix in. 4. Pour water over batter; do not stir. 5. Bake in center of oven for 40-45 minutes; until top is cracked; cool for 15 minutes. 6. For whipped cream combine cream and maple syrup. Beat on medium speed until peaks form.
The maple syrup whip cream sounded kind of peculiar to me at first but then the more I thought about it, it sounded rather good, and almost necessary for the chocolatley sweetness of pudding cake. I did not have any cream, but instead I released the remaining contents of a can of whipped cream into a bowl and whipped in the maple syrup, and was in fact absolutely delicious. The cake was delicious and the maple syrup whip cream was the perfect accompaniment for the dessert.

Recipe Citation: Chocolate Treats. Lincolnwood, Il: Publications International, Ltd, 2002. Print.

Hmmmm Beef!

It was a Friday afternoon and I was absolutely starving, fighting my way through traffic to get home for dinner, I realized that I needed something to eat, but I should just wait until I got home where I knew I would have dinner waiting, each exit I thought of getting off and grabbing a bite to eat, at the most convenient fast food place but then stopped myself. Finally as I was pulling off at the exit where my house is, I realized I could not stand the extra ten minutes that it would take to get to my house, so I took a right off the ramp instead of the left to get to my house and pulled into the Steak N Shake drive-thru.
As I rolled down the window to order the cheapest item, a single hamburger, to tied me over, my stomach began to rumble, looking for some remainder of the bowl of cheerios I had had 12 hours earlier, I changed my mind and went for a double cheeseburger with a side of fries. As soon as I had handed over my $4.27, and received the glorious white bag of greasy meaty goodness I tore open the surrounding paper and devoured the entire burger in several large bites, which sent bits of onions, tomatoes, and grease flying through my car. Finishing the burger before I had made it back onto the road, I then set my eyes, mouth, and stomach upon the fries, which I picked up in the largest manageable handfuls I could and stuffed the golden fried goodness in my mouth. http://mandami.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/placemat.jpg
I was finished before I crossed back over the highway to head home, and I immediately picked up the speed to settle my slightly delayed hunger, with the glorious dinner I had waiting at home. To my great pleasure, my mom had cooked steak! Not mentioning the fact that I had just picked up fast food approximately 8 and half minutes ago, I gladly accepted the largest T-bone available, which had just arrived off the grill minutes before I pulled in. After thoroughly enjoying the tender, juicy, delectable, medium rare meat, a loaded baked potato, salad, and a chocolate milkshake to wash everything down with, I sat back completely and utterly full, I attempted to calculate how many calories I had consumed in the last 30 minutes http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://store.theperfectsteak.com/store/images/Tbone-steak.gif&imgrefurl=http://chatham-county-nc.com/bulletinboard/index.php%3Ftopic%3D13864.0&usg=__fFUS3jEbxMG_HQM0iFFoxzOu2uQ=&h=300&w=300&sz=63&hl=en&start=22&tbnid=nvqXfT7xEPQmgM:&tbnh=116&tbnw=116&prev=/images%3Fq%3DT-Bone%2Bsteak%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26start%3D20

Food Lies!!!

Each day I walk into Britain Dining Hall to nourish my body. As I walk into the back, my nose is assaulted by a mixture of aromas produced by the many dishes. Some smell good, others don't, but overall I start to think that it would be impossible to not find something worth eating. I follow my olfactory senses to the most promising candidates. Once there, I realize that they truly smell delicious.

Its a lie.

As I place the food on my plate, I am surprised at the way it looks. Its not mushy or slimy looking, but pleasant and inviting. I can see bits of herbs mixed in, and the sauces have great color. It looks good! It looks edible!

Its a lie!

As I sit down at the table, my mouth waters in anticipation. The way the food looks and it's aromas promises a great tasting meal of epic proportions. If it smells go and looks good, then it has to taste good right?

Lie! Lie! LIE!!!!!!

The exciting flavors promised by the smell are nonexistent! Instead my mouth is filled with bland, cheap flavors! The interesting textures promised by the way it looks are actually hard or mushy heaps of disgust! The image of a great meal foretold by my senses is swiftly erased from my mind and replaced by a nightmare!!!

Food.

It lies.

http://www.gatech.edu/images/splashEmergencyGTENS.jpg

Ohh! The great VARSITY!!!!!

The Varsity! If you have not been to the Varsity yet, then you are missing out on some of the most delicious fast food EVER! Almost every Saturday I try to go to the Varsity for lunch. Everytime I go I always order the samething, one naked hot dog, one cheeseburger, fries and a water. Now that doesnt seem like a lot of food at first because the hot dog and burger arent too large, but I always get full before I finish. When I get my food and finally find a place to sit, I find myself staring at the plate for a few mintues before I dive into greatness. The pressed burger with the cheese peaking out the sides, and the fries lay one on top of the other hanging off the edges of the tray. When I say greatness, I am reffering to the taste and looks, not the feeling after. For some reason I always find myself leaving the Varsity in pain, but I still go back every weekend and order the samething. I do not know what it is, I mean why would someone go back to the same resteraunt, if it makes that person miserable. Knowing that my stomach totally hates the greesy food from the Varsity, my taste buds still cannot refuse their food. After reading this you might say to yourself that you will never go to the Varsity or I hope you say to yourself that you will be going to the Varsity this weekend. Either way you are making the right decision. If you choose to go you will witness fast food at its best, but if you choose not to go you will remain healthy. For all of you that have been to the Varsity, was your experience similar to mine?

Michael Miller