Garcia 1

Jennifer Garcia
Professor Heather Hewett
Craft of Non-Fiction
16 Dec. 2016
Ketchup
Hello, welcome to McDonald's.
Hmm...Can I have a number 3 please?
After receiving my order, which was a cheeseburger deluxe with fries and a drink, I sat
down at the nearest booth. I wasn't too aware of McDonald's and what they had to offer, so I just
assumed the typical cheeseburger contained beef, cheese, lettuce and tomato. After I received my
order I began unwrapping the burger, and then I finally took a bit when all of a sudden, I have a
weird taste in my mouth. Could this be what I think it is? I remember telling myself out loud. I
looked down, and it was, in fact, the exact thing I unfortunately suspected it to be: ketchup.
I didn't always dislike ketchup the way I do now. I remember loving ketchup on
everythingsandwiches, rice, soup, corn dogs, and on the pasteles my mom used to make for
the holidays. I even remember buying green ketchup, which was inspired by the notorious The
Grinch story. Ketchup had ultimately been my favorite topping for everything. Looking back at
the past, it's hard to think about the turning point when I went from adoring ketchup, to
completely despising the smell. It actually could have been that time in the Dominican
Republic...
Im from a little town called Cien Fuegos in Santiago, Dominican Republic. In the
Dominican Republic, Dominicans are famous for a specific type of snack called kipes. Normally,
when eating kipes, one is supposed to add ketchup, hot sauce (if you enjoy eating spicy), and

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mayonnaise. The purpose of these toppings is to give the snack a unique flavor aside from the
spices in the kipe itself. Adding ketchup, hot sauce, and mayonnaise is also added because it is
something culturally done to many other forms of snacks and meals such as platano con salami,
pastelon, and bola de yuca in the Dominican Republic.
The first time I ate a kipe was in the Dominican Republic at my grandmothers house. My
grandmother had made the kipes from scratch specifically for my parents, sister, and me. I even
remember her saying, comenselo todo que lo ise especialmente para ustedes! My grandmother
enjoyed cooking for us and for the rest of our family in general. She was had never been rich in
money, but she did have a rich heart; she felt one of the best ways to show how much she loved
and cared for us, since she could not financially express it, was through her cooking. She was
one of those types of grandmothers that wouldnt let you leave her house until your pants
couldnt close anymore!
With my grandmother speaking those words of endearment, I bit in with excitement. I
tasted all the different types of flavors in one; ajo, papas, sazn, sal, piminta, and even the
ketchup, hot sauce, and mayonnaise we were instructed to add before we began eating. Once I
swallowed the kipe, the horrifying taste hit me. I knew it wasnt the taste of the kipe that had me
feeling uneasy because my mother had cooked something similar to kipe where she used the
same ingredients. Suspicion got the best of me, so I began experimenting on the different tastes. I
remember eating another kipe after without the adding ketchup, but keeping the hot sauce, and
mayonnaise, and at that point it didnt taste weird. With my grandmother speaking those words
of endearment, I bit in with excitement. I tasted all the different types of flavors in one; ajo,
papas, sazn, sal, piminta, and even the ketchup, hot sauce, and mayonnaise we were instructed
to add before we began eating. Once I swallowed the kipe, the horrifying taste hit me. I knew it

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wasnt the taste of the kipe that had me feeling uneasy because my mother had cooked something
similar to kipe where she used the same ingredients. Suspicion got the best of me, so I began
experimenting on the different tastes. I remember eating another kipe after without the adding
ketchup, but keeping the hot sauce, and mayonnaise, and at that point it didnt taste weird.
From what I know from the Dominican culture, ketchup is very popular. Aside from
people topping ketchup and other toppings such as hot sauce, which I love, and mayonnaise on
kipes, ketchup is also popular on a dish called yaroa. A yaroa is similar to lasagna in respects to
the way it is made. A yaroa consists of ground beef on the bottom layer, or essentially whatever
type of meat preferred, French fries on top of the ground beef, a layer of cheese, and then
depending on how layered the person wants it, have another layer of each on top. After all the
layers of food, the yaroa is then topped with ketchup, hot sauce, and mayonnaise. Yaroa is sold
almost everywhere around the Dominican Republic and has many different ways of being made.
Ive tasted yaroa with platanos instead of French fries. Although it taste slightly different, the
concept remains and still tastes just as delightful (obviously mine never contains ketchup).
Its difficult to trace the history of ketchup from the Dominican Republic. Much of the
ketchup tradition I think comes from family tradition and teachings that families assimilate to as
they learn more about it. I know one example of that form of assimilation with my family I
witnessed is the American tradition of the Thanksgiving meal. My family in the Dominican
Republic did not celebrate it, specifically because it is an American tradition due to American
history. After introducing them to the idea of a day to give thanks, my family from over there
began celebrating as well. They began cooking big meals, and inviting all family and friends
from different areas of the Dominican Republic to celebrate and give thanks to one another. They
shared meals and conversed. They each brought their own traditional Dominican dish that

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represented what each of them was good at making. Someone would bring the rice, someone else
the potato salad, another would bring the pastellitos, another brought the beans and someone else
would bring the chicken. From what I know about other families, they also assimilate from what
they learn about their family members that travel from the Dominican Republic to the United
States. When their family members travel back to his/her country, they then show their families
the American culture and traditions; if theyre appealing enough, the family will begin doing
those traditions as well.
The ketchups texture was so odd; I had to spit it out immediately after putting it in my
mouth. With a process of elimination, by eating just one topping with the kipe at a time, I was
able to determine that ketchup was the main problem for me. I was actually utterly shocked! I
had eaten ketchup many times prior to the kipe in the Dominican Republic, and prior to that meal
and it never seemed to taste that weird to me.
Ketchup reminded me of an old smell kept up in the basement of someones abandoned
house. It had a smell that traveled through my nostrils, right through my body, which made all
the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Its smell made my toes curl, my eyes twitch, and my
nose scrunch up. After the smell made every inch of my body tingle, I felt as if I was about to
puke. The smell of ketchup definitely didn't sit well with me anymore.
The taste of ketchup is like a big clump of something until this day I still cant really
define the taste of ketchup with just one word. The taste reminds me of something tangy meant
to be salty, but as if someone added too much sugar and messed up the ingredients. Its texture
made me swallow with unease, as if there were something in my throat preventing the ketchup
from going through my esophagus and down into my stomach. I know once it reached my

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stomach, it would just sit there, intoxicating the rest of the food trying to be digested with its
smell.
After that occasion with the kipes, I waited a while before I ate anything containing
ketchup. It was kind of difficult for me because I actually enjoyed certain foods with ketchup.
Cutting ketchup from my diet also meant cutting other things from my diet as well. I no longer
could eat white rice alone anymore; I always topped ketchup on my white rice because I felt
white rice alone had no flavor. I also couldn't eat French Fries for a while; I always topped my
fries with some green ketchup from the Grinch brand. It saddens me dearly, but ketchup really
didn't taste the same after that one experience. Cutting ketchup also meant I could no longer eat a
dish from the Puerto Rican culture called surullos. Surullos are made up of cornmeal and sugar;
they are rolled into little pieces in the shape of fingers, deep fried, cooled down, and then dipped
into a ketchup and mayonnaise dip. I grew up eating surullos every time I had family from
Puerto Rico visit New York, or any time I had family travel from New York to Puerto Rico.
Lastly, I knew I had to cut out eating hot dogs since I grew up eating hot dogs with ketchup on
top. I remember loving my hot dogs grilled, fried, or boiled and adding so much ketchup on top,
my plate looked like a mountain of ketchup rather than hot dogs with ketchup. My sister and I
had the same tendency.
Until this day I still can't eat ketchup; the smell is completely unbearable, and I now get
extreme migraines by just getting a hint of the smell. I can no longer look at ketchup its now a
reminder of the experience I had. And with the sight, I also begin thinking of the smell, and the
texture in my mouth, and why I no longer can stand ketchup. When someone is around me and is
eating ketchup, I try my best to discretely move away from them.

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Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and never have added ketchup on my kipe. I
now realize that when I go through certain experiences, especially with food that have negative
turnouts, I end up becoming sick and feeling nauseous, and as a result, having migraines for long
periods of time. I am now more cautious with what sorts of toppings I add on foods such as
kipes. From this experience, however, I learned that it is fine to be different. I get made fun all
the time for not identifying with the American social norm in respects to food. I embrace that fact
though, and continue moving on because there are always certain things that everyone may like,
but a specific person does not thats what makes us unique.
Once I stopped eating ketchup, I remember becoming hesitant to tell people about it.
Ketchup in both the United States and in the Dominican Republic is big because there are so
many people who enjoy it. Years later I still find myself being hesitant to tell people I dont like
it. Ive been offered food that contained ketchup where I had to reply, No, thank you. Then the
evil question of, Why not? Once I tell them, I dont eat ketchup, Im automatically given the
upside down, double, crossed, confused, surprised face with that remark, what do you mean you
dont like ketchup?! Ketchup is amazing. Without hurting peoples feelings kind of like how
sometimes they hurt mine, I always stay stuck. What am I supposed to say? Yes, I am entitled to
my own likes and dislikes, but when someone shames me or makes it uncomfortable for me to
express likes and dislikes, it becomes hard for me to do so. I end up just replying, I dunno, I just
dont. Because of this, I try my hardest not to judge people when they share something they like
or dislike. They like or dislike whatever it may be for a reason, and thats what makes everyone
different. And I dont want people to feel the same awkward feeling as I do when people look at
me different just for not enjoying a specific food other people like.

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I found it hard telling my family I no longer liked ketchup. The hardest people to tell
were the older folks like my parents, aunts and uncles. But you liked it before. What do you
mean you dont like it anymore? They made me feel as if I didnt have the right to change my
opinion on something I once liked and no longer liked anymore. I remember my mom doing it
the most with other foods I no longer liked, such as a type of fish called bacalao.
Its bacalao, your favorite I remember my mom telling me one time.
I dont like bacalao anymore I replied to her.
You liked it before.
Yeah I liked it before because you made me eat it.
I dont think my mother ever understood the reason I probably ate certain foods when I
was younger and stopped after I got older was because I felt I was forced to eat it. I even
remember my mother telling me several times as a child, yes you do like it, eat it. I guess that
was her way of making sure I ate the food I was supposed to eat to get my balanced diet. Once I
got older, I learned different things I was able to eat and stopped eating the things I didnt like;
kind of like ketchup even though it was and still is not something detrimental to my health. I
think it was and still is difficult for my mother to understand why I dont enjoy certain foods
anymore because she enjoys eating certain things I dont like eating. I know for some people it is
difficult to understand certain things because they themselves cant imagine themselves either
not liking ketchup, or liking certain things they arent used to liking.
I know for past generations in my family, parents were much strict on their children as
my parents and aunts are on my cousins, siblings, and me. If times were reversed, I would never
be able to walk out my house without eating everything my grandmother told me to eat on my
plate. She would have made sure I eat it, and if I didnt thered be consequences following after. I

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remember my parents always telling me stories about when they were younger and what my
grandparents would do to them. My parents figured a great way to get my eating certain foods
was to bring those stories back and see if Id learn to eat whats good for me. I never found
what they wanted to give me appetizing and still dont. I think thats what makes the teachings
within our generations different. It also proves what I interpret my culture to be different entirely
different than what they were raised believing.
Although I can no longer eat ketchup, I dont question how others can still like it. I love
eating hot sauce ever since I stopped eating ketchup and I think its amazing when before I
didnt. There are people who cant stand even a little spice in their food. There are people who
are allergic to spice. That proves how different we all are. That also proves how culture has
major impacts and influences in many aspects of our nature. I respect everyones decision and
recognize that everyone is different and has his or her own taste.