Writing with all five senses august2010 ifbc

Writing with all five senses
Kathleen Flinn
Author of The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry

Using all five senses
Most writers rely too much on visuals
Food writers tend to focus on taste and sight, but neglect smell, sound and the tactile/texture of food yet these are important pieces of information
The goal of this exercise is to challenge yourself to work harder, to express yourself more fully by considering the impact of a situation or a food with all your senses.

Consider the lemon

The exercises
Sight: Describe a lemon to someone who has never seen one before, but without using the word “lemon”
Texture: Describe the exterior or a slice of lemon. What does it feel like? How would you describe it if you had no sight?
Sound: Cut the onion in half, then chop it into pieces. Concentrate on the sound. Don’t use the word “knife” or “chopping.” How else would you describe the sound?
Smell: Bring one of the chopped pieces to your nose. Sniff. Without using the word “lemony” or “citrus”
Taste: Truly contemplate the flavor. What parts of your tongue are affected? How do you feel after tasting it? What does it remind you of?

You can do this exercise on your own.
Spend three to five minutes on each sense.
Time yourself.
The following slides include some of the descriptions captured during this session at IFBC in August 2010.

Sight
From the IFBC participants:
Dimpled saffron sphere, it[s oval, it’s squashed, it’s nature definition of yellow
Elongated
Acne-scarred
Cheerful yellow globe
An outie for a belly button
A handful of sunshine
Bright yellow
Profusions in each hole
Stem end, blossom end
Spongy
White pith

Smell
The ocean rushes through my nose, bright crisp
My hair vibrates from the tart backwash as the wave of aroma leaves my body
Cleaning crew released on a frat house, and all the smells are scrubbed out
Tangy acidic floral, softly on the tongue
Candy-coated tarts
Bracing, cool
Nearly tactile
Cold morning mist
Astringent
Spring
Medicinal
Clean – more polish than elbow grease
Freshness like sparkling sailcloth
Perfume that I always wear that reminds me of Greece, Turkey & home
Fresh young tender
Bright vanilla overtones
Tropical fruit
Reminded of the scent of fresh sweet peas,
Sweet captviating determined

Taste
The softest needles that I’ve felt on my tongue
Pucker shock
The cleanse leaves me feeling like I just tasted a young beam of sunshine
The sharp acidity
Like licking a battery
Can’t help but to taste it again
A cool juicy burst of tartness
Forces my eyes ot squeeze shut
Aggressive like food bloggers tweeting
Far from shy
Sharp bright character
Makes my nose tingle
Lips pucker
Tongue assaulted
Crisp coolness
From last night’s red wine marathon

Then, consider a recent moment
and use at least three senses
Give yourself five minutes.

All 5 (or at least three)
Reeling from the panic of driving into Seattle the first time; the sounds of honking
Glimpses of people’s faces I recognized from Twitter, vague memory
After the sip of the cosmo, the heat of the vodka, all was better
Sweaty forehead
Regal restrooms with no expectations
Individually wrapped mints
Sour fumes
Quiet
A plate of gleaming peanut brittle, round taste of caramel, smell hint of sea spray yet tart, the crunch of peanut
and then shock – smoke!
Bacon – it’s a cliché, everything is better with bacon
The lamb cave was in a dark corner of the room
Stung by blatant display of
Reduced to caveman status by a rack of lamb, herb garlic meat, pink
No longer elegant –elemental.
Clutching my swag, heavy shoulders
Glass clanking, slippery limes
Stomach implodes

Gone with the Wind – (Margaret Mitchell)“When the twins left Scarlett standing on the porch of Tara and the last sound of flying hooves had died away, she went back to her chair like a sleepwalker. Her face felt stiff as from pain and her mouth actually hurt from having stretch it, unwillingly, in smiles to prevent the twins from learning her secret. She sat down wearily, tucking one weary, throbbing foot under her, and her heart swelled up with misery until it felt too large for her bosom. She could it beat with odd jerks, her hands went cold, and a feeling of disaster oppressed her. She dug her fingernails into the wood of the chair, trying to break through the wood and thankful for its solid nature, reminding her that some things could not change. “No, no, no…” she heard herself gasp repeatedly. Ashley to marry Melanie Hamilton! It can’t be so.”

This exercise is from a weekend-long food writing class called “Hungry for Words.” Find out more at kathleenflinn.com
“Hungry for Words on Whidbey”Food Writing Retreat Nov. 5th-7th 2010
Whidbey Island, Washington

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Writing with all five senses august2010 ifbc

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