designer, creator, artist, storyteller
food for thought
Everyone says food brings people together. I agree, but even more than that for me, food brings me memories. When I eat certain foods or meals, I can be transported to such specific places or times in my life. This is a blog about just that. Choosing a food or a meal that has strong memories attached to it, and then writing about those memories, that time in my life, or something I learned that applies to my life today. Food is something that has always brought me joy, so it felt fitting to devote a blog to it.
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Hope you enjoy :)
bagel balls
I used to be the pickiest eater you could ever imagine. My parents would do everything they could think of to help me branch out and try new foods. You’re probably thinking that most kids are picky eaters, which is true, but I was on a whole different level. For example, bagels are a safe food, right? Wrong. Not to young Annika. Bagels were too strange for me, unless they were prepared in a very unique and very specific fashion: the bagel ball.
My family used to get lunch at Bruegger’s Bagels every so often, and when we did, I always feasted on bagel balls. Bagel balls aren’t an item on the menu, they were a specialty prepared by my parents once we had already sat down in our booth. Of course, I only ordered plain bagels, and with no toppings or anything else on top of them. However, even that was still a bit too scary for me. To make bagel balls, my parents would peel the bagel, which just meant taking off all the crust so that only the soft, fluffy inside part remained. Then, they would rip little pieces off one by one and roll them into small balls about the size of a grape or a cherry tomato. And then you have bagel balls. I know, it’s ridiculous.
My parents probably thought it was ridiculous too, but I never knew it. Looking back on those memories now makes me realize just how understanding and patient my parents always were with me. Although they most likely thought bagel balls were insane, they never hesitated to make them for me. They never made me feel like it was bad or weird either, because they were just happy that I was happy. I was eating something that I liked and slowly making progress, and they were going to help me do it no matter what.
My parents are still like this today. You’ll be happy to know that I now eat bagels with the peel, and I even put toppings on them. I have changed a lot, but they never did. They’ve never stopped being patient with me and having my back, no matter how ridiculous what I’m doing may seem. They never hesitated to make bagel balls for me back then, and they probably still wouldn’t hesitate to do it today if I asked, and I’m so grateful for that. They’re my biggest supporters and my biggest fans, and I know I will always be able to count on them.
the cheese pizza from the museum of life and science
Like I mentioned in my first blog post, I was the world’s pickiest eater as a child. This means that one of my staple foods was, of course, cheese pizza. But I had favorites, and one specific cheese pizza was my favorite ever. I had tried many, and I used to have a list of all the different cheese pizzas I had ever tried. It was 3 or 4 pieces of paper taped together end to end. On it, I would take the same green marker and write each restaurant down as I tried their cheese pizza. Out of that whole list, my favorite was the cheese pizza that they served at the café in the Museum of Life and Science.
When I was growing up, my dad would take me and my sister to the Museum of Life and Science as often as we could convince him to. It was one of those children’s museums filled with a bunch of cool, interactive exhibits and activities. The three of us went pretty often because my sister and I loved it so much. I recently learned that my parents even had a code name for it that they would use when they talked about it at home. They had to use the code name because if they mentioned it by its actual name, my sister and I would get too excited and then become disappointed if we didn’t end up going that weekend. We spent countless Saturdays at that museum, and even though we had been a million times before, each time was just as fun and exciting.
The museum had a main building, and then outside it had many additional outdoor exhibits. Among those outdoor exhibits was the museum’s café, where you could stop for a quick lunch and then continue playing. This café is where you could find my favorite cheese pizza in the world. It was just a regular cheese pizza, but for some reason I thought it was such a treat. It was shaped like a little rectangle and cut into 6 squares, which I also thought made it extra cool. It did taste good, but looking back I doubt it was much different than any other kids’ menu cheese pizza.
The memories and thoughts associated with it were probably what made it the most special to me. I could only get it at the museum, which is where I spent so many fun-filled days with my dad. The whole Museum of Life and Science reminds me of my dad. Even though he has a job and has tons to do, he always makes sure to spend time with me and my family. He would always make time to hang out with my sister and I growing up, and I’m so thankful to have a dad like that. He has always put his family before anything else, for as long as I can remember. There were certain things that my sister and I only did with him, or traditions he always did for us to make life more fun. Sometimes my mom joined in on the museum festivities, but usually it was something we did with my dad. The museum pizza reminds me of all those Saturdays spent with my dad and how much I looked forward to them, which are memories I’ll always cherish.
chips and yogurt
Somehow, I grew up being the pickiest eater while also loving the strangest food combinations. Some of the weird combos I enjoyed were common ones, like french fries dipped in a milkshake, but others were truly bizarre, like tortilla chips dipped in yogurt. It sounds horrible, but it was one of my sister and I’s favorite snacks growing up. I honestly have no idea what made us decide to try combining tortilla chips and yogurt. I don’t know where it came from, but once we discovered it, we were huge fans.
My sister and I used to spend hours and hours playing with our Barbie dolls. We would make them clothes, furniture, decorations, food, and all sorts of props to make our games better. Clearly, this was a lot of hard work, and sometimes we got hungry during our games. Thus, chips and yogurt was born. Specifically, they had to be the round-shaped Tostitos tortilla chips, and it had to be Trix yogurt. Any flavor was fine, but my favorites were wild berry and raspberry rainbow. You could either dip the chip into the yogurt, or you could make a fun little sandwich with two chips. My sister and I would pour a bowl of chips, put the yogurt into a small bowl as well, and then we would head back upstairs to eat while continuing our game.
My sister and I were really close growing up, and we always had a good time hanging out with each other. We played with our Barbies and other dolls, drew, made up our own games, watched tv, played Just Dance, and a million other things. We created so many different worlds together and always had a good time. I had a built-in best friend, and I’m so lucky to have a little sister close to my age so that we got to grow up together. We’re still close and still friends, but we obviously don’t see each other nearly as often since we’re both now away at college.
However, I’ll always cherish all the memories we made having fun together, and sometimes I still make myself some chips and yogurt just to be transported back to those times.
dining hall nachos
My sophomore year of college I lived in a dorm. I had a suite of 4 rooms with two girls in each room. 8 girls sharing 1 bathroom. I’m glad I got the experience of living in a dorm with my friends for a year, but I am so thankful that I never have to do it again.
One of the things I missed the most was being able to cook myself food. There was a kitchen on our floor, but there wasn’t much in it and it was usually gross, so I stayed away. Instead, like most other students that live in dorms, I had a meal plan that gave me swipes to the dining hall. I’m not nearly as picky as I was when I was little, but I’m still not a very adventurous eater, so the dining hall was not my favorite. But there was one thing that was always there for me – the dining hall nachos. Most of the food rotated and changed every day, but there were certain stations that were constant. Pizza, pasta, and nachos were some of those, and I found myself frequenting the nacho station more and more. Towards the end of the year, I was so sick of all the other food that I ate nachos every single night. The queso was great, but having it every day was not ideal. Every night I would stand in the nacho line and look to see which dining hall worker was scooping the chips and queso that day. Some of them gave me lots of queso like I loved, but others were not as inclined to scoop more than once. I always hoped for the generous queso scoopers.
My dorm was right next to one of the dining halls, so my three best friends, who also lived in my suite, and I would eat there for dinner every night. We’d all walk over, do a few laps until we found a table, go our separate ways to collect all our plates, and then return to the table to eat together. Once we were finished, we’d put our plates up and walk back home. Then we had our designated shower schedule based on how quick everyone was. I always went third.
I didn’t love the dining hall, but I do love the memories of getting to eat dinner with them every night. We’d update each other on our day, classes, and anything else of note that we felt like sharing. We’re all still close friends, but nothing will ever be quite like the dorm and dining hall days.
agua de canela
My family, both on my mom’s side and my dad’s side, lives in Guatemala. They both grew up and met there, and my whole extended family still lives there. We would fly down and visit all the time when I was growing up. We still do, just not as often. I spent a lot of time throughout my childhood in Guatemala, and there are so many little things from there that are part of our home here in the United States. For example, foods and drinks. A lot of the food my mom made growing up, and a lot of what we still eat are things that are really common in Guatemala. One of my favorites is a drink called agua de canela, which translates to cinnamon water.
Agua de canela is basically cinnamon tea, except it’s cold. You make it by boiling a big pot of water with a few cinnamon sticks in it, then add sugar, and then put it in the fridge until it cools. Super simple, but so good. I grew up drinking it with every meal, and it’s always been my favorite drink in the world. If you’ve ever been to my house, you’ve probably tried agua de canela. My friends seemed to always either really love it or really hate it.
Agua de canela reminds me of home. When it’s on the stove, the smell of cinnamon fills the whole house. That smell always made me excited for the fresh batch, and now it makes me think of home and my childhood. Even more than that though, it makes me think of my mom. She’s always the one who makes it. She made sure it never ran out, and she would have a fresh pitcher cooling in the fridge for me before the old one had even run out. That’s the kind of person she is. She knew how much I loved it, and she has always put me (and my sister and my dad) before herself, and done whatever she could to make us happy. She still does.
Last semester, I was sick for about two weeks. I was miserable and not having a good time. I don’t live at home anymore, but I grew up in Chapel Hill, so my house is only about 15 minutes away from my college apartment. My mom brought me food when I was feeling horrible, and she also brought over a big pitcher of agua de canela. It’s such a small thing, but it was so nice of her to do because she knew it would cheer me up. Of course, it tasted great, but that’s not why it made me feel better. It made me feel better because it was, and always will be, a little piece of home.
the $20 dominos deal
Pizza has always been one of my favorite foods. I’ve tried quite a few different restaurants and recipes, and my favorites have alternated throughout the years. I’m not sure what my favorite of all time is, but Domino’s has been my favorite delivery restaurant for years. They have a pan pizza that I love, but even more than that, they have a deal where you can get two medium pizzas, a box of parmesan bread bites, a box of cinnamon twists, and a 2-liter bottle of soda for $20 (plus a little more for delivery, but still a pretty good deal).
This has become a tradition for my boyfriend and me, and every movie night or cozy night in, we order the $20 deal. I always get a pan cheese pizza. He always gets a hand-tossed with sausage or pepperoni. We split the parmesan bites and the cinnamon twists, and the soda is all his because I don’t like soda. He usually goes with orange Fanta.
The food is good of course, but the memories that I now think of every time I eat it are what makes it special now. I love going out or eating at fun restaurants, but I’ll always choose ordering something good and eating it on the couch while watching a show. He’s the same way, so we’ve spent countless nights in the dark, eating our pizza and parmesan bites, and watching Survivor together. Besides planned nights in, the $20 deal has become a pick-me-up as well. If one of us is feeling down, the other will often suggest ordering it and choosing a bad reality show to enjoy for the night.
Even now that he goes to school and lives in Boston and I am in Chapel Hill, we try to recreate these nights every once in a while. We don’t order the whole box for just ourselves, but we’ll each order a pizza and then watch a movie together through our computers. Sometimes he’ll even order my pizza for me from Boston after I’ve had a bad day, because the $20 Domino’s deal and all the memories I have with it will always cheer me up.
tiktok pasta
I hyper-fixate on foods a lot. I’ll find a food that I love, and then that’s all I want to eat for weeks or even months. However, only a few of my food hyper-fixations have lasted longer than that. TikTok pasta has lasted over a year, and it’s still going strong.
A while ago, a pasta recipe went viral on TikTok. It was a simple recipe where you placed a block of feta cheese in a baking tray and surrounded it with cherry tomatoes. You added olive oil and whatever seasonings you wanted, and that was it. All of a sudden, everyone and their mother was making this pasta, but I didn’t try it until a friend told me about replacing the feta with cream cheese. I’m not a huge feta fan, but cream cheese is a staple in my diet. I immediately tried this variation and haven’t looked back since.
When I was living at home during winter break of sophomore year, I wanted to make it every day. I perfected my recipe. But then it came time to move back into my dorm for the spring semester. Sadly, I had to give up making TikTok pasta for a bit since my dorm’s kitchen was a bit lacking and I never had the ingredients. However, every time I went home for a break or a weekend, I would make a huge batch so that I could bring leftovers back to the dorm. I looked forward to being able to come home from classes and eat a huge bowl of it. Food from home was one of the biggest things I missed during my year in the dorm. But that year eventually came to an end, I moved out and moved back into my house for the summer, and I started the daily TikTok pasta making back up again. That whole summer, I made the pasta multiple times a week. Then August came and I moved into my current college apartment with one of my best friends for junior year. Thankfully though, I had a good kitchen this time, so the pasta didn’t stop. Instead, I slightly altered my recipe to be a single serving. This way, I could make it just for myself without then being stuck with a huge tupperware of leftovers.
It’s currently the summer before my senior year, and I still make TikTok pasta multiple times a week. It’s become one of my favorite meals ever. Usually, I would have gotten bored of it by now, but for some reason this hyper-fixation has really stuck. I’m not even a little bit bored of it, and I’m curious to see if that day will ever come or not.
pan de agua
My whole family lives in Guatemala, so I’ve grown up eating lots of Guatemalan foods that my parents make. Lots of the meals they love from there can be recreated in our home here, but some things you can’t get in North Carolina. One of those things in pan de agua.
Pan de agua is just a type of bread. It’s super simple and pretty much looks like any other little bread roll. But for some reason, it’s just way better. My sister and I used to look forward to going to Guatemala so that we could eat our weight in pan de agua, and I still love it every time we visit now. The best one is from a bakery chain called San Martin’s. They’re all over Guatemala city, and they smell amazing. When we were younger and visiting family, my sister and I would wake up early so that my grandpa could take us to the bakery as soon as it opened. We would drive over and then run in with our little baskets to grab tons of pan de agua.
Even before we’d get to Guatemala, my grandparents would make sure that their kitchen was fully stocked with the little rolls before we flew in so that we could enjoy some as soon as we arrived. We used to land, drive to their house where we stayed, and there would be a lunch set up outside on their back porch featuring plenty of pan de agua and homemade lemonade.
I haven’t been back to Guatemala in a few years now, but hopefully I’ll get to visit soon. My grandparent’s house, cousin’s house, and the whole city are all full of childhood memories that I love looking back on and getting to re-live. And of course, I miss pan de agua.
helado hecho en casa
I don’t go back to Guatemala as often as I did when I was a kid, but when I do, there’s a lot that has stayed the same. One thing that is always constant is that my grandparents always ask us before we get there if there are any foods we want them to have ready for us. One of the things I always request is helado hecho en casa, which just means homemade ice cream.
My grandma has made this ice cream ever since I was little, and it was always one of my favorite parts of visiting Guatemala. To this day, I’m still not sure how she makes it, because she doesn’t have an ice cream machine or anything like that, but whatever she does works great. It’s vanilla flavored, but somehow it doesn’t taste like every other vanilla ice cream you can buy. When I was little, I just thought it was its own flavor, because it really didn’t taste like any other ice cream. It’s way better.
For some reason, helado hecho en casa is something I can only have in Guatemala. My grandma comes to visit every year, and she could definitely make it when she does come, but she never does. I never ask for it. To me, helado hecho en casa is strictly a Guatemala treat. I enjoy it so much more because I know I can’t have it whenever I want, and it’s more special knowing it’s only every so often that I get to have it.