In ordinary daily life, we often see the figure of writing. Writing can exercise our habit of being alone, calm our mind and think about our future direction. So have you ever learned anything about composition? Here are five articles in my diary, 6 words of cooking, for your reference!
diary cooking 6-word encyclopedia 1
"wow, wow, wow." The crisp sound came from the kitchen. The sound is like the chirping of birds and the gurgling of water. In this wonderful music, the scenes of cooking in middle school are presented in my mind again.
I was attracted by the smell of cooking when I first learned it, and I dreamed that I could cook such delicious food one day. At first, my mother asked me to wash the vegetables first, and asked me to clean the mud under the celery, and then clean the sunken stems. The soil inside the stems was like a stubborn old man, and I had a hard time cleaning them up. I started with half a fist, and my mother told me that I wouldn't cut my finger. I can't "hurt my hand because I was born before". First, I cut a knife vertically from the middle of the celery, and then I cut the celery into small pieces of two to three centimeters. After cutting, I looked at the celery on the cutting board, thinking that they were resigned under my shovel, and I couldn't wait to tidy them up immediately. The best partner of celery is meat. If you want to be delicious, you can't do without big brother meat. At this time, take some shredded pork, put it in a washed bowl, add a little salt and soy sauce, and stir it evenly so that you can fry it later.
I'm going to cook. First, I'll clean the pan, put it on the fire to dry it, pour a proper amount of oil into the bottom of the pan, and listen to the sound of oil heating. I'm nervous and excited. After all, this is my first attempt. When the oil was hot, I put the stirred meat into the pot, and the sound suddenly rang loudly, just like the sound of water gushing from a burst water pipe. A large stream of oil smoke came out of the pot and ran obediently into the smoking machine. I turned the shredded pork back and forth with a spatula, and the shredded pork danced obediently in the pot. As soon as the shredded pork changed color, I put the celery in, flipped it back and forth several times, and the little celery sister and the big meat brother also jumped into the ballroom dance. For a while, it is like a dragon flying, for a while, it is like a carefree wave, and it is like a palm swaying in a breeze. Watching them jump happily, I felt the joy I had never felt before, and I felt like a master. They all listened to my orders carefully. The taste of this commander-in-chief is really wonderful! I sprinkled half a spoonful of salt, half a spoonful of chicken essence, and a number of thirteen spices. After turning it back and forth several times, I took half a bowl of water and divided it into three parts. I fried it several times every time I put some water, and then put it when there was little water. After three times, the fragrant celery fried meat was out of the pot.
diary cooking 6-word encyclopedia 2
I have a father who can cook. He has short black hair and a "Bao Gong face". The corners of his mouth look serious, but the opposite is true. Although he is not a chef, the food he cooks is ever-changing. If you open a restaurant, it will ensure that the business is booming, the passbook will soar and the customers will be full of praise.
Dad cooks as soon as he gets home from work, and today is no exception. As soon as I entered the house after school, I heard the symphony of pots and pans coming from the kitchen.
I hurried to the kitchen, only to see the faucet arguing with the sink, and rows of fresh and lovely ingredients stood beside me. Dad smiled and said to me, "Today's delicious food is my newly invented beef with sauerkraut." As soon as I heard it, my mouth watered and I thought: The food must be better if the names are so high.
So I watched my father cook quietly. I saw that my father first poured ginger slices into the pot, and then sprinkled beef into the pot. The beef was so hot that it was "zi zi" and oily. The pickled cabbage on one side just laughed at the two of them. When I was not careful, my foot slipped and my body fell into the pot. Dad added some soy sauce to it. A few drops of soy sauce seemed to be very dissatisfied with entering this hot cage, and they protested one after another. They made a "leap" and landed on the back of my hand accurately, which made me scream with pain.
"Everything comes to him who waits". Finally, it's done. Dad's cooking really lived up to expectations, and Chen's beef with good color and flavor was served on the table. Take a closer look: tender and smooth beef, slim and lovely Flammulina velutipes and green coriander leaves are soaked in the rich sauerkraut flavor, which looks good.
take a deep breath, and it's sour and refreshing, which makes people suddenly have an appetite. I packed my family's meals in a hurry, and I was the first to throw myself into a gourmet trip.
a mother's love is wider than the sea, and a father's love is higher than a mountain. Dad cooked delicious meals for us despite the fatigue of work. My mother and I are very happy to have such a "chef" in my family!
Diary Cooking 6-word Encyclopedia 3
Mom and Dad called at the same time and said that the company would be late for something, so if you are hungry, you should eat some snacks first. So I ate and watched cartoons.
while I was eating, I thought that they still didn't know when to come back, and they had to cook on an empty stomach. I might as well try to make a ready-made meal for them once and reduce the burden on my parents.
Just do it. At this time, my mind will think of how my mother cooks porridge and how to heat the steamed stuffed bun. I scoured some rice, put some water into the electric pressure cooker, closed the lid and pressed the porridge. I took some steamed buns from the refrigerator and put them on the grate to be heated by the rice cooker. This is all simple, but what kind of dishes are fried? When you open the refrigerator, there are two tomatoes, so fry the tomatoes and eggs. I washed the tomato, carefully cut it into small pieces with a fruit knife, took four eggs, hit them in a bowl, stirred them vigorously with chopsticks, and added a little salt like my mother. Then I put the oil into the pot and poured the egg liquid into the pot. After a while, I was afraid of being burnt, so I turned it over with a shovel. But somehow, I was accidentally scalded by the oil point, and I didn't have time to wash it with cold water. I endured the pain and continued to stir fry, and the omelet was not formed. I thought I might as well not do it, and my mother wouldn't say anything about me, but on second thought, there was always a first time for everything. It seems that cooking is really not easy! At this time, I smelled a burnt smell. It was broken, and the back of the omelet was a little black. Fortunately, I turned off the fire in time, otherwise I couldn't eat it. Then I put the oil back, fried the tomatoes and put some salt. This time, I have experience. I have to turn down the fire. I can't wrap the pot with flames from beginning to end. Wait until the tomatoes are juiced, and then pour the scrambled eggs into it and stir them together. If only there were some garlic sprouts, it would be nice to enhance the color and taste. This is what my mother said.
at 7 o'clock, my parents arrived home in tandem, and when they saw my mess, they looked at the oil flowers on the cooker, touched my head and said with a smile, "We are all hungry. It would be nice to try my son's cooking." Looking at mom and dad's gratified smile and happy conversation, I didn't feel my hand hurt, but I was very happy, which was more beautiful than watching cartoons.
I have been cooking in a diary for 6 words. 4
My grandmother has taken pains to take care of me for more than ten years. The delicious dishes served in the kitchen made me fat in vain. Grandma's hands are busy for me and grandma's temples are white for me. I grow up day by day and eat so many delicious dishes cooked by my grandmother. Today I will cook a dish to repay my grandmother.
I took the eggplant out of the refrigerator and planned to make a fried eggplant. Grandma told me to wash the eggplant first, then peel it off and cut it into pieces.
first, I put the eggplant on the table, and I plan to peel it off with a planer. But the "naughty" eggplant always rolls along, just like a lively little boy. Grandma said, "You should hold the eggplant in your left hand and hold it tightly, so that it won't be naughty." I did it, and the eggplant really obeyed.
step two, cut the peeled eggplant into pieces. Oh, it's so simple! "But be careful with your hands. Besides, the head and tail are unnecessary." Grandma reminded. I cut, cut, cut. I usually watch my grandmother divide by three times and five times, but I can't do it fast, for fear of cutting my own hand. Finally, I cut it and put the knife on the table. Grandma immediately said, "You can't point the tip of the knife at yourself. What if you cut yourself?" I quickly put the side of the tip of the knife outward. It turns out that putting a knife is also learned.
step three, get into the pot! I'll heat the pot first, then pour the oil into it, and then I'm going to pour the eggplant into it. But as soon as I poured one or two pieces of eggplant, the oil "exploded" from the pot, and a few drops of oil were splashed on my arm. Oh, it's so hot! Grandma told me: "Shake the water off the eggplant as much as possible, and then put it in the pot, so that less oil will be spilled." I shook the eggplant and poured them into the pot. Sure enough, the spilled oil was much less. Grandma told me to stir-fry the eggplant constantly, adding a spoonful of salt during the period. I stir-fry for about two minutes, and finally I can get the pot up.
after finishing this dish, I am exhausted, and I deeply appreciate grandma's usual hard work. Grandma looked at me for a long time and said softly, "My good grandson, you have grown up."
There are many firsts in our life. They are as many as the stars in the sky. There are the first time to buy things, the first time to walk at night, and the first time to learn cycling. The first time I will never forget is cooking.
I remember it on a Saturday in my fifth grade. Dad goes out on business and mom goes to work. They said on the phone that they would let me eat the leftovers from last night. I promised, put down the phone, and I had an idea-cooking by myself!
I found a dish called "Crispy Potato Chips" on the menu. The crisp potato chips in the picture are golden yellow, which makes my mouth water. That's it! I found two potatoes and sliced them according to the book. After cutting, I found two bigger eggs, beat them into a bowl and stirred them back and forth. I think: I used to eat fried chicken wings with noodles on them in restaurants. So, I poured two spoonfuls of flour into a bowl, put a little water in it, stirred it and turned it into batter. Then, according to the recipe, put the cut potato chips into a bowl with egg liquid, dip them, coat them with egg liquid, and then put them into a bowl with batter, so that the batter can wrap them. In this way, I put a dozen potato chips wrapped in egg liquid and batter into the oil pan and fried them for eight to ten seconds. Because I didn't know how to stay away from frying things, suddenly a drop of hot oil hit the back of my hand like a chamber bullet, and there was a terrible pain. "Ah", I took a step back subconsciously. Who knows, there was a bowl behind me, and there was the remaining egg liquid in the bowl. The bowl was smashed with a bang. The ground is full of egg liquid. There is no way, so I have to turn off the fire first, put the fried potato chips into a bowl, and then clean up the crumbs on the ground. After cleaning up, I will try the first dish in my life, crisp potato chips. Ah! How delicious! In the afternoon, my parents came back and praised me for growing up and cooking. I can't tell you how happy I am.
This cooking, although I got a bullet in my hand and also sacrificed a bowl, it made me feel the joy of practice.
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