We are a community with quirks, both in language and in traditions. Describe one of your quirks and why it is part of who you are.
Need help proofreading and editing this 250 word essay for UVA. Any criticism is welcome!
My favorite dish is soy sauce with white rice. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I have it at least three times a week for lunch, dinner and sometimes as a snack right after I come home from school.
When I was five, I would find myself downing spoonfuls of soy sauce covered rice at the dinner table before being scolded by my mother telling me to add some meat and vegetables onto my bowl. In school, I would take out anything that wasn't rice from my Thermos and eat the rice by itself(made even better if it had soy sauce). Because of my strange addiction, my friends and family would always tease me, claiming that my taste buds hadn't matured yet, but I enjoyed the dish too much to care about what they thought.
Before high school, my favorite part of the dish was its taste. I loved how the salty, umami taste of the soy sauce blended in perfectly with the soft, grainy texture of the rice; the way the two ingredients effortlessly combined together without compromising each other's strengths. But now, I admire it for something else: its simplicity. Soy sauce with rice adds an element of austerity and predictability into my increasingly complex and volatile life. It is a constant standing out within an ocean of variables. My senior year has provided me with many uncertainties: college applications, AP exams, and strains on friendships. These will all come to change different parts of my identity, but one thing will never change: my love for soy sauce with white rice.
Need help proofreading and editing this 250 word essay for UVA. Any criticism is welcome!
addicted to soy sauce with white rice
My favorite dish is soy sauce with white rice. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I have it at least three times a week for lunch, dinner and sometimes as a snack right after I come home from school.
When I was five, I would find myself downing spoonfuls of soy sauce covered rice at the dinner table before being scolded by my mother telling me to add some meat and vegetables onto my bowl. In school, I would take out anything that wasn't rice from my Thermos and eat the rice by itself(made even better if it had soy sauce). Because of my strange addiction, my friends and family would always tease me, claiming that my taste buds hadn't matured yet, but I enjoyed the dish too much to care about what they thought.
Before high school, my favorite part of the dish was its taste. I loved how the salty, umami taste of the soy sauce blended in perfectly with the soft, grainy texture of the rice; the way the two ingredients effortlessly combined together without compromising each other's strengths. But now, I admire it for something else: its simplicity. Soy sauce with rice adds an element of austerity and predictability into my increasingly complex and volatile life. It is a constant standing out within an ocean of variables. My senior year has provided me with many uncertainties: college applications, AP exams, and strains on friendships. These will all come to change different parts of my identity, but one thing will never change: my love for soy sauce with white rice.