My hometown is in the northern countryside. When I was a child, my grandparents, my parents, my two brothers and I were always the happiest in my heart during those days of economic deprivation.

In my childhood memory, my parents were busy working in the fields all day, for home and for us.

As a young man, I can't understand the hardships of my parents. On weekends, my parents will take our brother and sister to the fields.

At that time, I always wanted to escape from endless fields and endless farm work.

In my deep memory, every time my brother and sister celebrate their birthdays, the three of us can eat a boiled egg, which is the day I look forward to most.

The eggs laid by my hens are usually saved by my grandmother. Scrambled eggs are rare on the table during holidays or when family members come to visit relatives. This is my favorite delicacy.

Our home is far from the county seat. I had never been to the county seat before I went to middle school. In my deep impression, when my parents go to the market in the town, they often buy some storage-resistant vegetables, such as potatoes and carrots. In our northern countryside, oil pepper is also a dish.

Most of our daily staple foods are noodles and steamed bread. My mother can fry one or two vegetarian dishes. When I was a child, I didn't like noodles. At most, I ate a green vegetable steamed bread.

In my childhood impression, winter was particularly cold. Every time after school, my hands are already frozen. When I got home, grandma took the bag and told me to get on the kang quickly and sit on the warm kang cooked by grandma. My frozen hands and feet have been warm for a long time.

At this time, grandma handed me a bowl of delicious millet sweet potato porridge, which was my happiest moment. Only this bowl of porridge can make me full, and I don't even have to eat vegetables. I still feel so sweet when I think about it now. For me, it is the most beautiful food in the world.

Until now, I still like to eat porridge. Sometimes, I cook at home, but I can't always taste like my grandmother. Sometimes I go shopping with my husband, and I unconsciously like to find a porridge shop, but I always can't eat the delicious food when I was a child.

One more thing, my favorite is the baked sweet potato cooked by my mother.

When I was in junior high school, I planned to live in the town. Every weekend, when I ride home, I run into the kitchen, because there are baked sweet potatoes made by my mother for my brother and me in the kitchen fireplace.

My mother saw us and quickly took out the sweet potatoes. I can't wait to pinch it to see which one is soft. My mother looked at us, asked about the school, ate sweet baked sweet potatoes and sat next to her. That's the happiest thing.

Now, every time I go shopping, I often buy food when I see roasted sweet potatoes on the street, but I can't always eat the sweet potatoes baked by my mother.

Although economic conditions are much better now, I still don't like big fish and big meat. Over half a year old, I like to eat vegetables and all kinds of porridge more and more. After thinking about it, I still can't forget the taste of childhood.

Now, the millet porridge made by grandma and the sweet potato baked with fire sugar made by mom can only appear in my dreams forever.

When I was in college, I got up early every day and went to the cafeteria first after exercise. Li Shifu is at the window of the early shift in the canteen. We didn't know each other at that time. I bought a steamed bread, five cents pickles and a bowl of porridge. He always gives me a cake of oil and an egg. I think he is mistaken. He won't let me talk. Let me go. I told Liu, secretary of the Party branch of our class, about taking care of me, and Liu took me there. Li Shifu said, how can you grow up eating steamed bread and pickles? The school canteen is either profitable or full. Li Shifu and I became good friends later. Every time I have breakfast in Beijing, I think of Li Shifu and his kind smile.

In this world, for me, mom, grandpa and grandma are my closest relatives. In my childhood, without my grandparents, there would be many family warmth and good times. Now, although my parents have been away for many years, their voices and smiles will still appear in my dreams from time to time, and I will miss them all my life.

I have many ideas about today's question, and I don't know where to start. I am a timid person and don't want to touch some memories, because it will make me feel pain. However, people are very contradictory. They often go to some places and do things to miss people or things in the past. Maybe beautiful women are always reluctant to part with others.

Ok, let's start with eggplant today. I didn't like eggplant very much when I was a child. Although eggplant is thick and juicy, its meat absorbs oil well and its skin tastes tough.

I remember when I was a child, because my mother was very busy at home, I lived with my grandparents most of the time. Adults never want children to be picky about food. As long as there are conditions, it is best to achieve a balanced nutrition.

As a result, fried eggplant clip, a popular dish, appeared. Eggplant is rich in nutrition. With pork, the nutritional content is higher. After cooking with vegetable oil, it is crisp outside and tender inside, and the fragrance is overflowing.

I remember my grandmother is an expert in making all kinds of lotus root clips, eggplant clips and leek boxes. She always eats them several times a year. At that time, fast food restaurants like KFC and McDonald's didn't sell fried food. In my hometown of Guiyang, I ate pancakes and potato chips the most, so I always had a soft spot for fried food.

Speaking of eggplant clips, I thought this dish was specially for me to eat eggplant. The smell of ginger powder, spiced powder and sesame oil in the meat stuffing is perfectly wrapped by two pieces of eggplant, and the word "delicious" is just two words!

Non-advertising: Don't heat the oil when frying tomato clips.

Although I don't hate eating eggplant when I grow up, I even learned some methods of eggplant, such as eggplant cake, braised eggplant, cold eggplant, minced eggplant, roasted eggplant and three-wire fried eggplant, but I still won't take the initiative to make it, especially the eggplant clip, because it always reminds me of my grandparents.

Finally, I don't think people will burst into tears just because they eat a dish. At most, they will only shout: delicious! But only when a dish is full of humanity and sensibility will we feel moved, just like Stephen Chow's bowl of "ecstasy rice" in "The God of Food", we will shed tears unconsciously.

Knowledge points: eggplant, also known as loquat, loquat crisp, cheese crisp and so on. It is a tubular solanaceae plant. Originated in tropical Asia such as India and Thailand, it was introduced to China in the Eastern Han Dynasty.

Every time I eat cold lotus root, I think of my old father. When I think about it, I burst into tears, and the scene of my childhood is vivid.

When I was a child, my father spoiled me very much. Every time I go to the market, my father always carries me on the Daliangzi bike, the only means of transportation at home, to buy me delicious food. Influenced by my father, my father loves persimmons, so do I, my father loves sesame cakes and my father loves lotus roots, so every time I take me to a gathering, there will always be this old sample. I have eaten it for so many years, so far, I have never been tired of it, because every time I make cold lotus root, I always feel like my father. I just love it

On holidays, my father knows that I like to eat cold lotus root, and always makes it in advance until I go back to eat it. Especially in summer, eating a cold lotus root is especially refreshing and comfortable. Listening to the crunchiness of my food, my father was particularly happy and full of doting.

Now I also cook cold lotus root from time to time, because every time I eat this dish, I will think of my old father and the scene when my old father cooked cold lotus root for me. He can't bear to eat it himself, and my old father is very happy when he looks at me wolfing down. ...

Yes, grandma's tortillas, batter soup, and the taste of memory, but I can't go back. Every time I go to grandma's grave, I cry for a few seconds. I miss it so much. If grandma is still here, I can eat a lot of delicious food with me, because grandma will smile at me and be gentle with me. I still remember her smell.

This is really not. This question should be answered by some people who have lost loved ones. Most people miss the food of their grandparents who died. My parents are still alive and well, but my grandparents have never seen them since childhood. Grandpa was a landlord and was forced to die in a special era. Grandma left home and died at the age of 28. The only thing I saw was my grandfather. Unfortunately, my grandfather didn't cook for me, so I don't think it's impossible to think of them just because there will be a dish.

It should be vermicelli mixed with bean sprouts. It reminds me of my mother. It's just that since she left, she has rarely eaten this dish. This dish shouldn't be complicated, but no one can make it taste like mom anymore. It's my out-of-print private kitchen. When my mother was alive, every family made New Year's Eve dinner and grabbed it. After my mother left for many years, I finally understood a painful truth: I must cherish the people who cook for you in my life.

Tea eggs. I use this article to respect my grandmother. I'm sorry that cell phone code words can't be typeset. I hope to give you an encouragement.

I can't remember your face clearly.

Grandma often calls me and says, "I can't remember what I look like." Every time, I am a little worried about whether there will be any "problems" for my grandmother now that she is old. It's a little funny when I'm worried. I go home every month 15. How can the old man forget my appearance? It seems really old. Every 15, I will tell the old people not to wait at the village entrance. It's windy outside. I can do it myself. But every time the old lady is stubborn, I can always see a hunchbacked figure leaning against the locust tree to meet the sunset. The setting sun dragged the shadow for a long time. Only when I look at that tall shadow will I remember that I am a child and my grandmother is as tall as when I was a child. But in an instant, I began to complain that the wind outside said that she would not be picked up. But she always said that she would make some tea and go out for a walk while boiling water.

Grandma has always been alone, and her only hobby is drinking tea. I always bring her some good tea, but I always find a broken tea box and cover it with old tea. Only in this way will she accept it. She is always worried about suffering when I am away and doesn't want to brush my good pleasure. She always says that she likes aged tea, and I will be careful not to be careless every time I send it. She can tell the good from the bad after drinking tea all her life. I always think she may know my heart, but our grandparents and grandchildren have a tacit understanding, one is willing to fight and the other is willing to suffer. I still send it every time without her bothering me.

Grandma makes tea eggs every time I go home. I like them very much. Grandma's tea eggs are a must. Eggs are carefully taken care of by her own chickens every day, and they are all new rice. The egg is as big as a child's hand, the yolk is dark yellow, the egg white is crystal clear, and no flaws can be found. It's not good to make tea eggs. We should control the temperature, marinade and tea, but that's grandma's original secret recipe, so I don't know.

I received a message from my mother that my grandmother was ill and had been sent to the city hospital. I was frightened and hurried to the hospital for leave. On the way, I called my grandmother and asked her how she was. She said it was just a small cold, so she didn't need to be hospitalized. She had to go back and feed the chickens, or they would starve to death. I'm angry and funny, and I've been thinking about which animals, but my grandmother is very determined, so I have to calm down and say, I'll go back and help you take care of which chickens first, you have a good rest in the hospital and come to see you tomorrow. After hearing what I said, the old lady is not so stubborn. She hung me up for a long time. I know I can't beat the old lady, so I'm going to send her back to her hometown and help her look after some animals.

I met my aunt next door at home. Menstruation asked strangely, "Why did you come back in the middle of this month?" I smiled and replied, "Grandma is ill and went to the hospital. The old man is worried about her chicken. " Aunt was frightened. "Grandma is ill! Ah, our neighbors don't know. Your grandmother is really a good person. On weekdays, she won't disturb others. Everything is on her own. You should come back often. Your grandmother often looks at your photos in the yard alone. " My heart is shaking. My grandmother has been alone for so many years. I really know nothing about her life. The only connection between us is the short day of 15, and nothing can be discussed on weekdays. When I entered the room, I took a close look. I suddenly found that I was so strange to this room, but I was everywhere in this room, and my photos could be found everywhere in the room. I am in the family photo posted on the wall, and my big photo is posted on the notebook next to the sewing machine. The size of my clothes is clearly written. Even my grandmother's bedside has a photo of me and her when I was a child. In the photo, I sat on a duckling, and hands in the air laughed as if the duckling was a war horse, while my grandmother smiled kindly and compared a scissorhand with a clumsy abusive gesture. At that time, she was young. Looking at her in the photo, I suddenly feel very strange. I can't seem to remember my grandmother. When I walked into the kitchen, I suddenly saw a big jar. It was full of tea when I opened it. I smelled the not-so-simple fragrance of tea, and when I opened it, there were some gravy such as cinnamon and star anise. At this time, my aunt came in, watched me fiddling with the pot and said to me, "At that time, your grandmother's pot for making tea eggs was very precious. On weekdays, she always carefully selects tea leaves from all over the yard and divides them into two groups. One group leaves half to make tea eggs for herself. Tea eggs are a slow job. We should first mix these marinades with tea leaves, seal them for a few days, and mix the fragrance. " Then stir-fry with low heat, and finally add water and soy sauce to cook slowly. Usually it is cooked in the middle of the night, then add the eggs and cook slowly for a short time. It takes a week just to pick tea leaves. "I heard that, I was in tears. I only think of my grandmother occasionally in my life, but in my grandmother's life, it's almost always me. I know which teas must be the good ones I gave. My acting skills are poor. I just directed and acted in front of my grandmother. It is difficult for her to choose for that long every time. Grandma will spare no effort to satisfy a little hobby that I inadvertently reveal. I feel guilty thinking about it. I just want to take out my mobile phone and call my grandmother in the hospital.

"Hello, who's calling?" "It's me, grandma. How are you sure enough, you still can't remember my phone number. " "Are you. You are old and in good health. I want to leave the hospital tomorrow, but I often forget your appearance. I don't know what happened. " I was silent for a long time. That night I went back to the city and rushed to the hospital. I'm worried about my grandmother's health. I went to ask the doctor why the old man always said he couldn't remember me. Could it be that there is something wrong with his body? The doctor thought for a moment and said in a positive tone that the old man was just a common cold this time. In case we have a physical examination and are in good health, there should be no brain problems. Seeing that I was still wondering, the doctor suddenly said, "The memory mechanism is to save space, and to reconstruct the memory with basic elements every time, instead of keeping the complete memory. In other words, every time I think of someone, I reorganize them with the characteristics of the past memento mori. The more I miss her, the more I use second-hand unreliable discs. And if it is a person who never wants to, when I think about it, the fragments used are equivalent to first-hand information, which is very real. Every time the old man says he can't remember your appearance, he may miss you so much every time ... "

I always remember that night, I sneaked into grandma's ward, listened to grandma's breathing and looked at the wrinkles on her face. I can't help touching her, just like he touched me when I was a child, because I want to remember her deeply and remember her appearance.

It is easy for sentient beings and righteous people to think.

The shredded pork soup made by dad has been away from us 16 years. Whenever I drink soup, it gets out of hand, so I hardly drink it. I have been to many restaurants, but I can't drink the original flavor. This is the memory of my life.