If you were to rewrite "the rider" as a concrete poem, what shape would you use to express the main idea of the poem?

Just as our country was founded by immigrants on someone else's land, so, too, our cuisine, which was built by immigrants on someone else's foodways. And there's no arguing that the state of American food continues to endure this way—built cultural exchange by cultural exchange—some welcomed, others reluctant and, still, others forced.

The struggle to define American cuisine isn't a new one, but as our cravings for authentic flavors from all over the world continue to evolve, it seems like a more prevalent task than ever.