Peer Review by AliMuscles04 (United States)

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The Taste of my Classmates (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW )

By: Samina

   I remember those days. When the sound of the clinking bell fell on my eardrums. As soon as I heard it, my legs rushed down the stairs. My classmate followed me. We raced to the canteen. It was Wednesday, which means Samosas. I was breathing hard because of all the running. As I gasped for breath, the aroma of fried crunchy samosa went down my nose. My face was drenched with sweat, but it was nothing in comparison to my love for the samosas. I turned back and saw my friend still running. Leaving my friend behind, I remembered the joy of my life. Before the samosas got over, I placed my hand on the canteen court, grabbing a plate of samosas in my hand with extra spicy chutney on top. When my friend reached the canteen she was astonished that I left her for samosas. Then we headed back to our class with the plate of samosa. I was hiding it behind my back. My classmates knew that it was Wednesday meaning that I would rush for samosa. One of my classmates grabbed my plate and then in seconds, my plate got empty. The whole class pounced in for their share. Then just like a hungry dog, they licked the plate until the last drop chutney got over. Those golden days. Then I used to search for samosas and today I am in search of those classmates.

   I remember those days. I used to unbox my lunch box, fragilely, trying my best to make the least amount of noise. As soon as my classmates heard the metal sound of opening my lunch box, they rushed and gathered around me. The smell of tangy, sweet Aam pickle was in the air. My classmates snatched my lunch box to enjoy the aam pickle which was made by my grandmother. They dipped the aloo paratha, which was stuffed with spicy and refreshing potato banished with pudina. Aam pickle had a sweet and spicy taste, just like my classmates. The scene when my entire class fought for their share of paratha still flashes through my mind.

   I remember those silly bets for popsicles on hot summer days. No matter if someone won a match or failed a test, an ice-cream sandwich was a treat. I remember when my ice cream used to melt and run down my hand till the elbows and then my attempts to lick it and prevent it from falling. I remember those classmates who judiciously saved their ice-cream till the end and then showed us and ate it, slowly. Thinking about those days melts my heart.
  I remember those students who used to stick their bubble gums and leave their autograph under the school benches.  
  I remember those days when if anyone got a bottle of cold water or juice then the whole class jumped over and had that refreshing chilled water. Sharing chips and bubble gum on field trips was a must.
  I remember those days when we had one dish party. As always, everyone purposefully forgot their dishes in the bus or maybe left it at home. Then we used to share one dish among the whole class. One dish party was always a flop. Once, no one bought any water or beverage, thinking that someone else would bring. We had to share one bottle of water that I had brought.

  I remember when our class had to make Saudi Champagne for a food exhibition. As usual, the ingredients were assigned to the most irresponsible person in my class. I had no hope that she would bring all the ingredients, and my guess was right. So, we missed out on sparkling water. Then, making it was in the hands of two of my classmates. These two were the best in preparing food. They both had the best record of cooking. The last time they burnt their hands while boiling water proved my intuition that this champagne was going to a mess. For the first 10 minutes, I stared at them with hopelessness sparkling in my eyes. When we had the last 5 minutes at that time they pulled me into it and asked me to help. As my teacher always said, “keep a backup plan, especially for a class like this”. I had checked the recipe for it a night ago. I had already prepared a glass in the meanwhile when the two great classmates tried their best to figure out what all ingredients were needed. I garnished it with mint leaves and served it on a decorative plate. 

  I remember that day when we stood in lines of school buffet, chit-chatting. The whole class was together. It was farewell, the last day of school. My classmates were the first ones to stand in the line, leaving behind their mementos and phone.  My foody class filled their plates with fried rice, mixed vegetable, raita, and everything else that was served. Balancing plate on one hand and holding my dress I headed to the dining area. Nothing had changed in years. Neither my classmates nor their hunger for food. On the table, I saw them filling their mouth with everything like they never had food. But that day was different. My eyes were wet seeing my class and their love for food because it was the last time I would see them. Then, we reminisced about all the memories we made together. I remember those days when food was not food but an expression, feeling. I will, always, remember the taste of those classmates.

word count 926
date published 16-6-2020
Samosa- Indian snack which is fried and has a stuffing of spiced potato.
Chutney- A sauce
Aam-Mango pickle
Saudi Champagne- non-alcoholic refreshing beverage. 
raita- a sauce made up of yogurt and garnished with spices.

Peer Review

I liked that you described how the classmates would react. I like that the tone was almost sad, and yet happy.

By being able to describe or connect the classmates with food, made it very intriguing.

How old they were in each instance they described

I wouldn't change a thing about the beginning; it immediately drew me in

This is very well done, good luck, and I hope you do well in the competition!!

Reviewer Comments

I love the title!!