One summer vacation, I cooked rice in grandpa's rice cooker. I didn't know how much water to add, so I basically used one joint of my index finger according to my family's habits. Then after the rice cooker jumped, it was decided that a large piece in the middle was not cooked. Later, all the rice was put in a sea bowl, added with a little water, heated wildly in the microwave oven, and finally cooked. Grandpa went home and tasted the rice, praising my soft glutinous rice for his favorite taste. It's really all black lines