Come to think of it carefully, because my mother cooks with her heart no matter what food she eats. Simple ingredients, not a very complicated cooking process, my mother has enough care and patience. She will not be careless in every link, even every detail, and try to be perfect. Some pickles that need to be developed, she took great pains, meticulous and patient. And all this is because the mother has unparalleled love for her children and family.
I am a northerner and was born in a small village in Weibei Plateau. I spent my childhood in that most difficult time. Now whenever I recall the memory of my hometown, my mother's home cooking has become an indelible mark. Sorghum flour, corn porridge, stirred fish, alfalfa steamed bread, wheat flour, Sophora japonica bumps, egg noodles, and even sauerkraut, cabbage and potato cakes in winter are all fresh in people's minds. In the era of food shortage, wild vegetables have become the most important food in the stomach. Nevertheless, mother tried her best to satisfy us. I will never forget the tender ground and delicious dandelions in the fields after the rain, the potato pieces cooked in the kang cave in winter, and the dried steamed bread baked with tiles.
We grew up, and we became strong because of the home-cooked meals cooked by our mother. However, we are sad to find that we can never go back to the past, and the days when we snuggled up to our mother are gone forever. Mother was old when she tried her best to satisfy our stomachs and taste buds. And the taste of our home-cooked dishes full of happiness and satisfaction is gradually drifting away. We have traveled all over the world, even across the ocean. The most stubborn and authentic taste left in my memory is my mother's homely taste!
The so-called delicacies, the so-called popularity, when we eat too much, our taste buds become numb, which is the most sad thing. In the world of wanderers, we can cook meals almost as real as our mothers in another way, but there is no such thing as maternal love.