Cheeseburgers, French fries, Buffalo wings and chicken nuggets, these are just some of the few foods that I craved for but rarely had when I was growing up. During my childhood the only time I came across these foods was when I came to America during my school breaks. I stayed in Jamaica for most of my childhood, where most of my meals where traditional Jamaican dishes. My dinners always came from the plants that my grandfather grew on his farm and the animals he raised like cows, goats, pigs, chickens and occasionally the fish that was bought at the local market from a specific vendor. This made all the meals I would easy to predict. The week always started with either stew chicken or stew beef both served with rice and peas, a piece of breadfruit or yam, some dumplings, a garden salad an my grandmother’s homemade carrot juice. Monday’s dinner would be leftovers from Sunday dinner with remaining amount of carrot juice (there was always carrot juice leftover). On Tuesday we have fish either steamed with some white rice and corn or potatoes and cabbage. Wednesday’s dinner was the most difficult to predicate because it would setup what would be for dinner on Thursday. Most of time we would have curry chicken and white rice with these little potatoes, which would mean on Thursday we would have the leftover curry chicken with mac & cheese, which would be the only taste of American cuisine. If we didn’t have curry chicken we have the country’s national dish ackee and saltfish. I truly believe this was my grandparents’ favorite dish because there would always be enough leftover Thursday and Friday morning with their tea. When Friday finally arrived I would be happy for two reasons; school was done by noon and because it was Friday we would have K.F.C or jerk pork and festival (some kind of fried dumpling with sugar, one the best things I have ever eaten) for dinner. This was because according to my grandmother no one cooks on Friday. This was a bittersweet moment because it also meant that the day after would be Saturday, and that meant would have soup for dinner which was mostly chicken foot which I found completely revolting. I’m not saying that the traditional dishes that had in Jamaica were not appetizing but the commercials from the American restaurants that invade our TV made it difficult to appreciate them. After eleven years in Jamaica I came back to America to finish high school. The first few months that I was here I started crave the burgers and fries and milkshakes even more. Wendy’s, Burger King, and McDonalds were so convenient for me to feed my hunger. My mother said I was eating even when I wasn’t hungry; I just ate because it