Tag: WRD110

Journal – 004

by Damon Caskey

Brief Reflection of I’m Not Asian: A Heritage Odyssey

 

Although it was not the main focus of the article, I personally found one particular bit of wording to be quite poignant:

Unceremoniously, the boy asked, “Are you Asian?”

By use of the the term “unceremoniously” the author, Ms. Kesleyn Potter conveys the power of personal stereotypes in one innocent bit of childish obliviousness. She further reinforces this with her own use of a popular movie that itself relies on many Asian stereotypes (Mulan).

As she further goes on to write, Ms. Kesleyn’s lineage is Hungarian – not even part of the geographic Asian continent. It is only later she discovers the truth of her rich and storied heritage.

I believe this is a clear indication that while they can be amusing and occasionally based in fact, over saturation of such stereotypes can quickly rob us of some of the more beautiful nuances humanity has to offer.

 

Writing Portfolio

by Damon Caskey

Course Assignments

The following are drafts submitted for all major writing assignments (ordered from earliest to latest):

 

Food Ethnography

Materials from final assignment (Food Ethnography).

 

Other Writings

 

Class Related

While these mostly amount to simple thoughts or one offs, I hope they can offer a bit of the requested writers insight.

 

Non Class Related

This blog itself contains dozens of random musings, adventure memories and other writings which you may peruse at will. Given that it was to become my choose subject for the class, I choose to specifically link the following missive about Druther’s, written ~one year before attending this class.

 

Essay

I would like to believe that if one were to examine all of my writing output, they would find that there is little to be read between the lines. Now I will tell you straight away this is not really true. As it happens I take great pleasure in little games, inside jokes, riddles and hidden messages within my writing. But all that said, the overall message itself is as honest and clear as I can make it. If nothing else because I lack the acumen it takes to weave complex imagery and commentary into what amounts to be a collection of thoughts.

So it is with telling you why and how I choose the works I did. Was there some special meaning behind each? With some noted exceptions, absolutely not. Truth be told I simply brought up my blog list, followed in order from earliest to latest and picked the items with more substantial content. Perhaps that’s not really the greatest message to send – especially considering this is part of my academic career, but I DID say I was an honest writer, and I’ll stand behind my choices good or ill.

The contents found are effectively a lead up to more elaborate and (hopefully) superior writings upon the primary subject I choose when presented with the class theme (food). I had already recently made a point to explore and document a restaurant that inexplicably holds sway in my memories – Druther’s, the last of a once thriving regional establishment. It was an easy choice to make. Why reinvent the wheel when I had already finished half the work? It only remained to formalize and find acceptable sources. There is a downside to this approach, and that is the lack of any true linear progression. You may find the thoughts and content to be all over the place, rather than a gradual increase in validity and quality. I can only hope it’s not too jarring.

Now comes the part where I must analyze myself as a writer. This is easy. I’m not a writer. Oh sure, in the technical sense we all are, but in the colloquial application of the term, not so much. That doesn’t stop me from trying. I’ve written dozens of fictional stories, characters, exploration notes, class papers, tutorials, the list goes on. in short, it’s fair to say I’ve actually produced a very large amount of content, though the vast majority will never see daylight. Unfortunately, I have no clue how to write. My strength is in speaking off the cuff and presentation. Stand me before a crowd, give me any subject and I can produce a several minute speech from nothing – making it all up on the spot. Hand me a blank paper and ask the same, and I am lost. Therefore, to write, I simply imagine myself speaking and attempt to transcribe the words. This works about as well (not at all) as you might expect.

Even now I am a bit confused at times which format to choose, flow of dialog and so forth. But I can credit the class with a bit of growth, and hopefully will be able to build upon what I’ve learned. For that, I will thank Ms. Casero’s efforts and promise I will endeavor not to waste them. Here’s to more and better!

 

 

Food Ethnography – Proposal

by Damon Caskey
Food Ethnography Proposal 2014-10-21
Caskey, Damon V
Ms. Casero, Courtney
WRD 110-038
2014-10-21

Food Ethnography Proposal

For the food ethnography assignment, I would like to expand upon the previous Food Memoir. To wit, I believe there is still more to learn and expound upon the Druthers’ Franchise. The question I would ask is fairly straight forward:
Can a regional level business survive in today’s market?
The answer I think is a bit more mercurial. It’s obvious that big chains are here to stay, and there will almost certainly be a niche for the “mom and pop” establishments. The mystery is what happens when the mom and pop grows enough to attract notice. My family owns a long standing small business, and we are all too familiar with the growing pains that encompasses. Too large to manage on a small scale yet lacking the resources to obtain grander markets, let alone take on the big boys. It’s a delicate balancing act to be sure.
I believe that Druthers’ Systems is a fine example of this challenging market niche in action. Despite enjoying a lasting popularity, the chain ultimately failed within the span of a decade and now exists in name only. What caused this? Mismanagement? Overreaching? Cashing out? Stamped out by larger players? Or perhaps the ostensible popularity is merely an illusion created by a few passionate devotees.
  • Review basic franchise design and locations.
  • Obtain interview with owner of last standing example. Research business records.
  • Compare regional influx of competitors.
  • General economic influences.
After obtaining this information and analyzing accordingly, I believe a definitive answer may be found. If the concept is found appropriate, further steps will be taken immediately.

Food Ethnography

by Damon Caskey
  • Apple Festival (Casey County)
    • When did it begin?
    • Why apples? This is not an apple centric area.
    • Is it for expansion?
  • Small family restaurants.
  • Kansas City
  • New York
  • Denver
  • Olive Hill
  • Pops BBQ
  • Red River Gorge
    • Who from the west discovered it?
    • Any specific food culture or items?
    • Local eateries?
  • Cloudsplitter
  • Office
  • Druthers
  • Caramunda’s
    • Local history.
    • Family?
  • Eagle’s Nest

Crowther, Bourdain, Pollan, Conklin, Foer

by Damon Caskey
  1. Interpretation / Claim:
    I believe Mr. Foer, perhaps unintentionally makes a claim that vegetarianism is a higher form of living to aspire toward.
  2. Question: “Why?” In context, Foer closes with the recollection of his desperate and starving grandmother refusing to eat pork offered from a local farmer at her darkest hour. Why? It wasn’t kosher. “If nothing matters there’s nothing left to save”.

Food Memior Events List

by Damon Caskey
  1. First visit to Druther’s.
  2. Learn to love.
  3. Immunization/broken trust.
  4. Comfort, attachment.
  5. Separation.
  6. Reintroduction to Druther’s.
  7. Evaluation.

 

3, 1, 4, 2, 5, 7, 6

1, 2, 3, 7, 5, 4, 6 – Possible, but not “true”.

7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – Write thoughts first,t hen step back through order of story in reverse narrative. Could work with effort.

 

Food Memior Intoduction Workshop

by Damon Caskey

Review of Food Memoir Introduction.

Look over your peer’s comments. Write a short reflection on what you plan to do in your next draft.

Both of my group members commented on my use of language and diction, or rather overuse of it. It appears I will need to tone down the level of wording used. This may prove difficult as my use of strong diction is a natural inclination, not a conscious decision.

An undercurrent was that the reading should be tailored more for a general audience.

Are your peers comments helpful? Why or why or not.

The comments themselves were well thought. Whether or not they will prove helpful hinges on my ability to follow properly.

Food Memoir

by Damon Caskey

Download

2014-09-29

Caskey, Damon V
Ms. Casero, Courtney
WRD 110-038
2013-09-29

Still Rather Go to Druther’s

To you dear reader, I will start this memoir with a fair warning. If you are expecting a lengthy pontification on the joys of a specific bit of culinary delight, you are going to be disappointed. Oh there will be some gushing about the greasy breaded fowl and equally triglyceride spiking side dishes, but for the most part this is a story of trust and disappointment. Nostalgia vs. reality. Desire and progress. Or perhaps just a bit of overly dramatic exposition on of tasty fast food from a regional franchise no one outside of Kentucky likely ever heard of? I shall leave quandary that to you.

The memory of my first Druther’s exposure is nebulous at best, but I do remember it wasn’t even a Druthers’ yet. I was perhaps three years of age at my young mother’s side visiting Aunt Sanchia at the “Burger Queen”. At the time I recall finding the concept amusing. Thanks to the ubiquity of advertising, I knew of Burger King – so it only made since there would be a wife, yes? Soon after Druther’s would become Druther’s, and I would be introduced to a brand of low brow cuisine that my unrefined but discerning taste still craves to this day. I’d like to tell you more of when and how this happened, but alas the memory has been lost to a timeless ether. When I say I’ve loved Druther’s longer than I can remember, I mean it!

Alas, the innocence of youth must give away to education and progress does it not? You aren’t likely to get far in this world without a lengthy tryst in school, and you won’t certainly won’t get in the door without the dreaded immunizations. I’ve never heard of a child who didn’t shudder at the thought of needles, and I sad to say took this to new heights. My mother was a clever sort though. She knew the typical child bribes would not suffice. Candy? Ice Cream? Sure, I enjoyed those things – but if you wanted to bribe me good and proper, you had to appeal to my budding carnivore nature. The simple promise of a Druther’s Chicken dinner afterward was all it took to get me sitting stoically subdued while Dr. Caudill performed her roughshod but well-practiced exam. All was going well, and my fears were quieted by the assurance they would informed me of every step before it transpired. Unfortunately, the PA on duty (Suzie, I name I shall never forget) must have had a different idea of “informed” than I did. I will never forget the sudden searing pain in my right arm that came without sight, sound, or warning of any kind. To my everlasting shame I screamed aloud like the panicked child I was, though I did manage presence of mind not to jerk away and risk more injury. What remained of my mental faculties after processing those sensations was to be spent on one thought: I had been right all along. No one in the medical profession was to be trusted. Ever. The years since, rather than calm my suspicious, have instead provided me with a far more robust frame and acerbic jocularity to enforce them. To wit, I am a polite but less than fun patient to get stuck attending to. Fair? Maybe not, but I didn’t care then and have no plans to start any time soon. Anyone with the misfortunate of tending my wounds and calamites may thank Ms. Suzie for your troubles.

Now then, weren’t we talking about a reward of the culinary sort? With bedside manor burned and lesson learned the promise of regional pseudo fast food goodness was filled less than an hour later. Truly, I lack the appellations needed to describe the sublime experience of each bite, nor am I sufficiently adroit describing psychology subtleties to fully explain the obvious correlation of comfort vs. true taste. What I can say is the meal was and remains one of the best I ever had the privilege to sit in front of. I may have solidified a distrust for doctors, but I also learned that if you save the reward for later, any unwanted task can be turned around. Even now as I write this, I look forward to rewarding myself with this evening’s meal. Holding off until the work is complete will make it all the sweeter, just as facing the ultimately well founded fears of an immunization visit first transformed a simple meal into a grand reward.

Alas again, youth gives way once more, and so it goes like onion layers until I found myself an adult. Well, at least chronologically, even if lacking the maturity to back it up. Sadly, I had to count Druther’s as one of the many things lost along the way to that nebulous mecca of adulthood. Only a few short years after the traumatic needle stick incident, Druther’s began selling their franchises to Dairy Queen. Those that did not convert simply shuttered outright. It was a travesty of the highest order I tell you! Or so I believed. As it happens, there is still as I write this one Druther’s remaining. Cursory google searches revealed that several franchise owners in Central Kentucky knew a good thing when they had it. They purchased rights to operate with the former Druther’s name and formula, and continued their taste bud teasing operations as usual. But even these holdouts gradually dwindled, until as of today, 2014-09-29 only one remains. Situated in Campbellsville KY, it is the last Mecca for Druther’s lovers everywhere.

No sooner did I discover these facts had I made the decision to seek out and satisfy my subdued but still intense craving for Burger Queen’s spawn. It was only a two hour trip from my Lexington area domicile. Certainly nothing all that far out of the way. Yet time once again proved herself a cruel mistress. Activities and responsibilities continuous coalesced to delay my intended pilgrimage for over two years. But one cold and rainy late fall afternoon I found time and purpose enough to set forth. What better way to travel and enjoy comfort food? I love the rain and cold weather, especially when seeking out a nice meal. Somehow the verisimilitude of warm luxury inside and what most consider unwelcome weather makes any food taste better. The trip was pleasant enough; while the truck’s electronic brain futility struggled to bring economy into a two ton metal box and its three hundred horse power plant, my less binary calculations swirled around Druther’s centric childhood memories. Silly one shot moments like a cheesy “Chilly? Chilli!” sign in the window, or the literal fryolator scrapings they had the nerve to market as “Crispens” mixed and mingled with childhood nostalgia to whet the anticipation even more.

Finally, the moment arrived! I walked in the door, greeted by a comely red haired lass who identified me as a “tourist” on site. Turns out I was but one of many who wanted a little taste of Kentucky’s own take on 80’s fast food. Order was taken, and I even got a visit from the manager who liked hearing stories from visitors. Everything was perfect, just like the day I had my unsuspecting arms pierced and pumped full of chemicals I couldn’t hope to annunciate. Then I took a bite. It was good, and little else. I cannot recall being more disappointed in a meal. In my comforting nostalgia I had expected to indulge in what could only be described as salt, grease, virgin purity and the coo of white dives. Instead it was just… good.

The lesson I took from this is that even when you are aware of human frailties like nostalgia – they will take hold anyway. I knew well as anyone building up an experience too much might result in a letdown, but I did so anyway. Don’t get me wrong, it was good. Perhaps more so than I realized. That is the true failing of over anticipation. You may in fact be so disappointed or disgusted you don’t realize the thing was in fact a wonder you should be filing as a present memory rather than comparing it to the past.

Don’t even lose sight of your childhood, but nor should you allow it color your life’s perceptions as an adult. Whether old or new, see every experience for what it is rather than what you wish it to be, and you might be pleasantly surprised. I intend to go back to Druther’s soon, and next time I’ll be better prepared for the uncultured greatness that awaits me.

 

 

2014-09-20
Food Memoir First Draft

To you dear reader, I will start this memoir with a fair warning. If you are expecting a lengthy pontification on the joys of a specific bit of culinary delight, you are going to be disappointed. Oh there will be some gushing about the greasy breaded fowl and equally triglyceride spiking side dishes, but for the most part this is a story of trust and disappointment. Nostalgia vs. reality. Desire and progress.

I don’t really recall the first time I was exposed to Druther’s, but I do remember it wasn’t even a Druthers’ yet. I was maybe three years of age, on my young mother’s side visiting Aunt Sanchia at the “Burger Queen”. At the time I recall finding the concept amusing. Thanks to the ubiquity of advertising, I knew of Burger King – so it only made since there would be a wife right? Soon after Druther’s would become Druther’s, and I would be introduced to a brand of low brow cuisine that my unrefined but discerning taste still craves to this day.

Alas, the innocence of youth must give away to education and progress does it not? You aren’t likely to get far in this world without a lengthy tryst in school, and you won’t get in the door without the dreaded immunizations. I’ve never heard of a child who didn’t shudder at the thought of needles, and I sad to say took this to new heights. My mother was a clever sort though. She knew the typical child bribes would not suffice. Candy? Ice Cream? Sure, I enjoyed those things – but if you wanted to bribe me, you had to appeal to my budding carnivore nature. The simple promise of a Druther’s Chicken dinner afterward was all it took to get me sitting stoically subdued while Dr. Caudill performed her roughshod but well-practiced exam. All was going well, and my fears were quieted by the assurance they would be me informed of everything before it happened. Unfortunately, the PA on duty must have a different idea of informed than I do. I will never forget the sudden searing pain in my right arm that came without sight, sound, or warning of any kind. To my everlasting shame I screamed aloud like the panicked child I was, though I did manage presence of mind not to jerk away and risk more injury. What remained of my mental faculties after processing those sensations was to be spent on one thought: I had been right all along. No one in the medical profession was to be trusted. Ever. Fair? Maybe not, but I didn’t care then and have no plans to start any time soon.

With this bridge burned and lesson learned the promise of regional pseudo fast food goodness was filled less than an hour later. Truly, I lack the appellations needed to describe the sublime experience of each bite, nor am I sufficiently adroit describing psychology subtleties to fully explain the obvious correlation of comfort vs. true taste. What I can say is the meal was and remains one of the best I ever had the privilege to sit in front of. I may have solidified a distrust for doctors, but I also learned that if you save the reward for later, any unwanted task can be turned around. Even now as I write this, I look forward to rewarding myself with this evening’s meal. Holding off until the work is complete will make it all the sweeter, just as facing the ultimately well founded fears of an immunization visit first transformed a simple meal into a grand reward.

Alas again, youth gives way once more, and so it goes like onion layers until I found myself an adult. Well, at least chronologically, even if lacking the maturity to back it up. Sadly, I had to count Druther’s as one of the many things lost along the way to that nebulous mecca of adulthood. Or so I believed. As it happens, there is still as I write this one Druther’s remaining. No sooner did I discover this fact I had made the decision to seek them out and satisfy my subdued but still intense craving for Burger Queen’s spawn. It was only a two hour trip. Certainly nothing all that far out of the way. Yet time once again proved herself a cruel mistress. Activities and responsibilities continuous coalesced to delay my intended pilgrimage for over two years. But one cold and rainy late fall afternoon I left the comfot of my home and set forth. What better way to travel and enjoy comfort food? I love the rain and cold weather, especially when seeking out a nice meal. Somehow the verisimilitude of warm comfort inside and what most consider “unpleasant” makes any food taste better. The trip was pleasant enough; while the truck’s electronic brain futility struggled to bring economy into a two ton metal box and its three hundred horse power plant, my less binary calculations swirled around Druther’s centric childhood memories. Silly one shot moments like a cheesy “Chilly? Chilli!” sign in the window, or the literal fryolator scrapings they had the nerve to market as “Crispens” mixed and mingled with childhood nostalgia to whet the anticipation even more.

Finally, the moment arrived! I walked in the door, greeted by a comely red haired lass who identified me as a “tourist” on site. Turns out I was but one of many who wanted a little taste of Kentucky’s own take on 80’s fast food. Order was taken, and I even got a visit from the manager who liked hearing stories from visitors. Everything was perfect. Just like the day I had my unsuspecting arms pierced and pumped full of chemicals I couldn’t hope to annunciate. Then I took a bite. It was good. I cannot recall being more disappointed in a meal. In my comforting nostalgia I had expected to bite into what could only be described as salt, grease, virgin’s blood and the coo of a white dive. Instead it was just… good.

The lesson I took from this is that even when you are aware of human frailties like nostalgia – they will take hold anyway. I knew well as anyone building up an experience too much might result in a letdown, but I did so anyway. Don’t get me wrong, it was good. Perhaps more so that I realize. That is the true failing of over anticipation. You may in fact be so disappointed or disgusted you don’t realize the thing was in fact a wonder you should be filing as a present memory rather than comparing it to the past.

Don’t even lose sight of your childhood, but don’t like it color your life as an adult. Whether old or new, see every experience for what it is rather than what you wish it to be, and you might be pleasantly surprised. I intended to go back to Druther’s soon, and next time I’ll be better prepared for waiting greatness.

 

Define Food Memoir

by Damon Caskey

Q: Based off of your reading of Foer’s Storytelling, what is a food memoir? 

It’s hardly a clever conclusion to draw, but in reading Jonathan Foer’s work, I found the so-called “food memoir” functions less as a strict genre and more as a storytelling framework used to explore broader ideas. Food, in this case, feels more like a vessel than a theme. It becomes a subject through which the author delivers philosophical, emotional, and ethical commentary.

In my view, you could replace food with children, cars, religion, or nearly any other personally meaningful topic, and the structure of the narrative – even much of its tone – would remain intact. That suggests the story isn’t truly about food alone. It’s about belief, identity, and internal conflict. Food just happens to be the chosen lens.

Definition

A food memoir is a general memoir in which food serves as the narrative entry point – not necessarily the defining focus. It is one of many interchangeable subjects used to explore deeper personal or cultural themes.

Reading Response – Critiquing Eating Animals

by Damon Caskey

WRD 110 – Reading Response

Almost immediately upon starting the assigned reading from Eating Animals, I found myself waiting for the inevitable payoff – the explosive thought bomb. It’s a common narrative device: begin with what seems like a non-sequitur, let the reader’s curiosity simmer, then deliver a sudden pivot meant to jolt the audience into a new frame of mind. The tactic worked. The opening tale circles around to a hard-hitting line – “If nothing matters, there’s nothing to save” – intended to anchor the reader emotionally. While I agree with the sentiment, I couldn’t help but feel it was also a pointed nudge – a soft coercion toward accepting the author’s moral authority.

That moral authority, while never overtly declared, is unmistakable: eating animals is wrong. Foer insists the work is not meant to convert or judge. Yet throughout the essay, the problems with eating meat are detailed with care, while the arguments in favor of it are barely addressed or brushed aside. What is presented as introspection often reads as confession. Foer’s tone is that of a man striving for an ideal he already accepts as correct – vegetarianism. His struggle is not about whether the ideal is valid, but about whether he can live up to it. What I find troubling is that the premise itself – that abstaining from animal consumption is morally superior – is never actually questioned. It is simply treated as a moral default, a virtue one must aspire to. This leaves little space for open dialogue.

Rather than challenge that ideal with personal narrative, I’ll instead lean into what matters most in effective communication: knowing your audience. Our class is diverse, and opinions about food – particularly ethical food choices – vary widely. Some students strongly support Foer’s conclusions. Others, myself included, are less convinced. This isn’t a simple discussion, and to unpack the full debate would go well beyond the scope of a single response. Instead, I would encourage a close and critical reading of the piece and invite you to consider the following:

  • Did you find the work pragmatically informative, emotionally persuasive, or both?
  • What types of evidence were offered to support the author’s point of view?
  • If you were to communicate the same message, what changes – if any – would you make to improve its reception across a broader audience?

Thank you for taking the time to consider this response.