I grew up on Cape Ann (similar to Cape Cod, but rougher around the edges) in a house overlooking the ocean surrounded by an older brother, my dog, and my parents. My social and academic life was centered in my hometown. Eager to break free from the monotony of my environment, I accepted a spot in Fordham University’s Class of 2022. After a transformative first year in New York, away from Suburbia, I decided to spend the summer in London. While abroad, I did my fair share of sight-seeing, clubbing, theatre-going, studying, and wandering through the city. Yet, when I reflect back on my experience in London, my favorite part was the time I spent in the kitchen with my flatmates. “Can I help?” – these were the words that made my trip most meaningful.
After completing my freshman year of college, I returned to my hometown for a short ten days, headed to Heathrow, and found myself standing in an apartment with five strangers in the middle of London. All strangers, we quickly assumed our place in the flat and plunged into orientation. In the flat we talked, watched TV together, laughed together, and even cried together. But it wasn’t until I discovered rhubarb at our local food market that we all truly bonded. I grabbed the rhubarb, scoured the neighborhood for pie crust, and picked up strawberries from the fruit market. I had never made strawberry rhubarb pie before, but I’d been watching my Aunt prepare it for years. When I returned to the flat and announced my plan I heard those three words I began this story with. I mixed the flour, sugar, and cinnamon, while one of the girls chopped strawberries, one chopped the rhubarb, and another spread the crust in a make-shift pie (frying) pan. Warmth filled our flat as strawberry juice bubbled and crust crisped in the oven. This pie became the catalyst for weekly and sometimes daily baking sessions that not only filled our flat with an irresistible aroma, but it also filled our flat with other students living in the building. Back at Fordham, our bonds forged in our british kitchen remain. And that’s why I am here, intrigued and engaged with “Food for Thought.”
