No matter whether you are in school or stepping into the society, writing is the most unfamiliar thing for everyone. With the help of writing, you can vent your feelings and adjust your mood. Then do you know how to write a good composition? The following is my composition on the topic of taste. Welcome to read it. I hope you will like it. Composition on the topic of taste 1

In the colorful dreams of childhood, the beautiful figure of youth flashed far away. I followed the footsteps of youth with light steps and smelled its unique taste far away. This taste is extremely fresh, extremely sweet and extremely fragrant, but with a touch of bitterness ...-Inscription

Youth is like a cup of fragrant milk, pure. When we are happy, our smiles are brilliant; When we are sad, the tears of injustice will swirl in our eyes; When we are embarrassed, we blush like ripe apples; When we are angry, we rattle our teeth ... We release our inner joys and sorrows to the fullest, and we don't have to care about other people's opinions, and we don't have to blindly follow other people's opinions. We open up vibrant fields on fertile land and fly freely in our own sky!

Youth is like a glass of fruit juice. It is sour and sweet, which is memorable. The slight acidity and the sweetness of the fruit itself are just right. It is also for this reason that I have a soft spot for juice. I think, isn't our youth just a cup of sweet juice with acid in it and sweet in it? Yes, youth is not always smooth sailing, just as no matter how clear the sky is, there will be dark clouds passing by, and some unpleasant things are unconsciously included in the happiness and sweetness of life and disappear. Just in retrospect, there will be a little sour, but more sweet, so we are deeply intoxicated ...

Youth is more like a cup of coffee, which exudes a strong aroma and sends us a deep call. When we can't resist its temptation, we will pick up the cup and savor it carefully, and that bitterness will come to your heart. When you shake your head and sigh, you will feel the unique fragrance of coffee. I can't help but think of an idiom: "Bitter comes with sweet." In our growing process, how can we reap the lingering fragrance without tasting the bitterness of coffee? How can you taste the sweetness of success without experiencing the pain of failure? Therefore, as long as we turn our wisdom and resolute will into powerful strength, that fragrance will certainly fill our hearts.

what is the taste of youth? Is it milk? Is it juice? Is it coffee? I don't know. However, I know that youth is beautiful, youth is happy and youth is precious. Let's be full of youthful longing, cherish the ideals of youth and taste the different flavors of youth! (Editor-in-Charge: Teacher Qi) Taking Taste as the Topic Composition 2

Winter vacation is a special holiday, during which everyone will taste different flavors.

We, students on the road to knowledge, concentrate on the classroom, think about books and bear the pressure of homework on weekdays, so it is difficult to have a relaxing leisure time. However, during the winter vacation, we can fully enjoy the relaxation and pleasure of this holiday: or immerse ourselves in the joy of books, wander in the ocean of famous works, enjoy it with relish, and grow stronger; Or enjoy the ease of travel, shuttle between famous mountains and rivers, and be tireless and high. We can put down the heavy capsule and break the huge stones of homework, so that our mood has a good buffer period. We can walk down the winter vacation with laughter. Winter vacation is the taste of studying and enjoying.

They, the migrant workers in the railway station, work hard and hard on weekdays. Under the enthusiasm, it is hard sweat; In the cold wind, I rubbed my tired palms. But during the winter vacation, they can go to their hometown by train and reunite with their relatives. It is their long-cherished wish to sit around and watch the New Year's Eve. And at this time? The crowd in front of the station was bustling, and the cold wind roared with the coming train. They, people who have been looking forward to their hometown for a long time, are shining with eyes worthy of pity, and they have been looking forward to it for a long time-a handful of tickets. They can only find the taste of going home in this winter vacation. When they return, they will never forget it for a long time. Winter vacation is the smell of reunion and gathering.

They, the salespeople in front of the supermarket, are busy at the counter on weekdays and work for the people day and night. In the winter vacation, even worse, they are more diligent and busy. In order to have a perfect Spring Festival at home, they still insist on the supply of goods, sacrificing themselves and illuminating others. With them, there are delicious dishes in every family; With them, there is a wealth of new year's goods for every household. They are the angels and candles of the people. But in this winter vacation, they need to endure the hardships in their jobs and experience the sadness of being separated from their families. But they can still treat their guests with a smile and devote themselves to their work and society. Winter vacation is the taste of giving and dedication.

Winter vacation is like tea, and different people will taste different artistic conception. But I believe that this cup of tea, after hard work and hard brewing, seems to have a sweet taste, and this sweetness, some smooth sailing, some sour all the way.

during the winter vacation, everyone will taste different flavors. Composition on the topic of taste 3

When the rouge runs out, the peach blossoms bloom

-Inscription

1. Wax tears

My parents told me since I was a child that you are not my own brother.

but you have become my protector, and you won't let me be bullied. But in fact, you are thinner than me. It seems that when the wind blows, you will fall down. I often told you this when I was a child. Whenever this happens, you stand up your thin shoulders and tell me that you have muscles. I smiled, you smiled, and you held me in the air. At that time, I felt that tears were so far away that I couldn't touch them.

2. Passers-by

Slowly I grew up, and my humble self-esteem told me that you humiliated me.

I'm afraid of being laughed at by my classmates. I don't call you brother with a loud smile anymore. I tell you in a businesslike way that I don't want you to pick me up from school. You are silent. But you came after all that day, tattered clothes and muddy shoes. I saw you at a glance, and your figure was so dazzling against the city people. You waved to me and shouted, "Sister! Sister! Today we eat jiaozi! " I felt the eyes of disdain beside me, and those eyes made me lift my head in shame. I walked up to you and a classmate asked me, "Who is that?" I pulled out a smile, and my eyes were unstoppable panic. "It's just a passer-by." But this sentence is always heard by you. You lower your head, look at yourself, pull your skirts and turn away. Behind you, I heard a long sigh from you.

third, happiness

I cried because of you.

It's not that you did anything that moved me, but that my classmates laughed at me in class, and even my best friend came to me and said "hillbilly". When you saw me crying, you rushed to tell me that you wouldn't pick me up again, and I smiled through tears.

but slowly I realized that I was wrong. I shouldn't have done this to you. So what if others despise you? So what if you are called a hillbilly? Only you are precious. < P > I ran to tell you, "Brother! I want you to pick me up from school tomorrow! You have to pick it up every day in the future! " When you are excited, your hands shake, but you can't hide your smile. "Good!"

The next day after school, I couldn't wait to run out of the school gate. After seeing your tiny camel figure, I threw myself into your arms and told everyone loudly, "This is my brother!"

I cried again, and tears came down, but why is it sweet?

so, this is the taste of happiness. Composition 4 on the topic of taste

In summer, it is always hot and rainy, and the rain drops on the soil, permeating the freshness. Add a different kind of excitement to this sultry summer.

I used to think, "I'm going to cook a meal and give it to my mother." However, for various reasons, the meal I cooked by myself has not yet come out. Now, I finally have a chance to behave well. I couldn't help thinking, "Hey, what's the taste? You will know when you taste it. "

Stroll through several crowded streets and enter the vegetable market. Half an hour passed, under the leadership of my mother, I carefully selected and bought the ingredients that satisfied me.

On the way home, the sunset glow smudged the clouds on the horizon, and to see the sun, for all his glory hung a smile on her lips.

"Da, Da, Da …", a slender and busy figure appeared in the kitchen. I'm doing a little "program", chopping garlic and salted fish, and preparing to cook a next meal-fish-flavored eggplant, mom's favorite. Eggplant has a continuous entrance, juicy and delicious, and tastes extremely delicious. I am gloating in my heart and thinking happily: I used to stand by my mother and watch, and it won't be too far away. Fire, preheat the pot, don't throw garlic and oil in such a hurry, be sure to burn the remaining water in the pot and the temperature should be high enough. Now, it's time for me to show my skills. Pour the oil around the pot, then gently add the garlic and stir-fry quickly. But I still can't avoid the tragic accident of being splashed by oil. For a moment, it's like being stuck in the skin by a needle tip. I can't help thinking, isn't mom often splashed with oil on her arm? If it is not handled properly, it will leave scars. The explosive smell of garlic brought back my thoughts. That smell makes people drool.

the big project is still running normally. Then, eggplant into the pot, constantly stir-fry. Add a third scoop of water, cover the pot and simmer for a long time. After a long wait, my mother came to inspect and asked kindly, "What happened? It smells delicious'. "My heart was beautiful, and I smiled sweetly and said," Not bad, it's almost ready to serve. "

Ten minutes later, squash the eggplant easily, add salt, vermicelli and small pepper. I tasted it, but it was a little salty. The eggplant in my mouth was a little spicy, and the taste was good. Bring out the delicious fish-flavored eggplant, put it in front of your mother, look at your mother with a smile and say, "Try it, it should be ok."

Mom chewed it and said, "It's quite good, it's delicious!"

this taste is different. On the tip of the tongue, there was a collision of taste buds between love and delicacies. I don't know what my growth path will be like after composition 5

with taste as the topic. Perhaps, there will be more sweetness and more bitterness ... but I don't care, and I'm not afraid. Because this is growth.

start peeling apples again. Small knife, deftly moving in my hand, shed a thin, curved skin, just like the road I grew up on.

When I was very young, I learned from my mother to peel apples, but the knife in my hand was far less obedient than that in my mother's hand, and I just carved a series of messy scratches on the apples. But I am still smiling, smiling and cheerful. Because my mother said that you can peel apples only when you grow up. In my mind, peeling apples has become a sign of growing up.

But then-I cut my hand, and the pain suddenly came over. At that time, I didn't know how to control my emotions, let alone be strong, and tears burst out and whirled around my face. One of the tears fell into my mouth. I thought: oh, growing up, how long it is, but how much I want to grow up! Looking at the messy scratches on the apple and the scars on my hands, I thought: the taste of growth is as bitter as tears.

I will never touch the apple knife again, because I know in my heart that I am still young. Until that day, I was promoted to a grade and thought to myself: Have I grown up now? So the idea that had been stored in my heart for a long time germinated again, and I picked up the apple knife again. I didn't cut my hand again this time, but because of my inexperience, I peeled a lot of apple meat at the same time, and the rest was almost a core. I, on the other hand, chewed out a little sweetness in that apple core ... < P > Now, I am not young. In countless attempts and exercises, the apple knife will no longer listen to me, and the apples cut will no longer be flustered. Every time, I will peel off a long skin, and the apple can roughly retain its original shape. Every time I peel the apple and eat it, my mouth will be filled with sweetness. Think again before, I always can't help laughing out loud. What's more gratifying is that I can also send my heart to others. When I pass the apple to my mother, I always get her smile. I smiled again, thinking: the taste of growth is as sweet as an apple and as sweet as a smile.

Back to reality, the apple knife in my hand is still moving and moving. In fact, how many "apples" like this have been peeled and tasted as bitter as tears and as sweet as apples during my growing up! The apple in my hand is only cut in half. I don't know what the next half will be like. I don't know what my future growth path will be. Perhaps, there will be more sweetness and more bitterness ... < P > But I don't care and I'm not afraid. Because this is growth. Taking taste as the topic of composition 6

I am still inexperienced and have never tasted the taste of the world; Pillow book caresses the volume, and has known the taste of the world. I rarely cook, and I can't adjust it. After a long period of meditation, I can't understand the flavor of life. China's context has brewed the flavor of life of thousands of literati in the volume of poems and books, and passed on the flavor of the world in the Millennium wine jar that is rich enough and mellow enough.

I was led to a poorly furnished bookstore with a rich collection of books. The hazy aroma guided me to draw a book of the Book of Songs, and I opened it as carefully as a jar that had been dusty underground for many years, just like I smelled the fragrance of soft soil in a dream that had been blurred for thousands of years. Probably for the sake of self-entertainment, the people who are rich in land describe a beautiful but vague story of a girl who stirs up people's hearts or breaks their hearts. Mix them in the fertile land on the golden ears of wheat, so the fragrance of The Book of Songs will be handed down at any time, and it will pervade the deepest part of the ancient bookstore.

I closed the book gently, and changed it to Selected Poems of Su Shi. The moment I opened the book, it was light, soft and cold, mixed with a few free and easy and a few banished indifference. I know, and the owner of this taste knows that this is a distant place, a secluded place, and a legacy of a soul. Once again, I chanted, "Bamboo sticks and sandals are lighter than horses. Who's afraid? A stale tobacco Ren Pingsheng ",once again shallow sing" diligent night rain, you have to live a cool day ",even the residual red and green apricots are full of fragrance, I hold a handful of sake-the altar buried in Dongpo, the strong sweetness has disappeared with the glorious times, a little spicy and a little light, and it is quietly moistening the hearts of generations.

The owner of the bookstore gave me a few glances, and I realized that it was near dusk, so I couldn't think much. I quickly took off Cao Gong's Dream of Red Mansions and immersed myself in the bitterness that fascinated countless people. Under the mountains of the Qing Dynasty, the jars of the context are no longer light or salty. At this moment, there is a bitterness of "who can solve the taste", just like a drop of ink in clear water. The seemingly soft but bitter taste has infiltrated the whole Chinese literary world. After drinking this cup of bitter tea, I am relishing the filling.