Home on the tip of the tongue can't be ordinary any more, even comparable to Liu Yuxi's My Humble Room Inscription. A two-bedroom apartment of more than 5 square meters, except that a pair of old-fashioned sofas crowded in the corner can barely become furniture, is more appropriate to be described as a family with four walls. Oh, no! On the wall, all the awards I got from primary school to kindergarten were still posted, which occupied two sides.
home is small, but warm. Happiness is everywhere like air. Of course, the happiest thing is the tip of the tongue of family members and everyone who comes to my house to be a guest and eat.
The happiness on the tip of the tongue comes from the mother's hands-those hands that can turn ordinary things into magic! Magic hands!
Mother is a born cook. A very common potato, a piece of tofu, a handful of beans, a piece of pork, a cabbage, a mass of dough, a bowl of glutinous rice ... In my mother's hands, I was so obedient that it turned into a series of unforgettable foods on the dining table for my father and guests: shredded vinegar potatoes as fine as white as jade made you salivate; Stewed bean curd makes you unforgettable; Braised pork makes your mouth water ... And the handmade noodles made by my mother are thin, long, even, chewy and delicious, coupled with the green shredded cucumber, mung bean sprouts, tomato and egg marinade, sesame sauce or diced pork fried sauce, which makes you want to eat another bowl after eating it, until there is no room in your stomach. It can be said that I have never been to a restaurant to eat "Old Beijing Zhajiang Noodles". Because I know that even the most authentic Zhajiang Noodles will be eclipsed by her mother's Zhajiang Noodles, and she won't have the slightest appetite. Mother's cooking of red dates, lotus seeds and black glutinous rice porridge is not only excellent in color matching, but also feast one's eyes-darker in black and white, whiter in red, and like a glittering and translucent Hetian jade in a bowl. Moreover, it is delicious and nutritious, so that people who have drunk this porridge will never forget it all their lives. The white flour cake baked by my mother is crisp, soft and fragrant with many layers. I bet, as long as you see it, you don't have to eat any food, and you will devour a cake in a flash. Because, I once ate two cakes in succession-mother's second cake hasn't been cooked yet, and the first one has become something in my stomach. As soon as the second cake came out of the pot, I couldn't wait to pick up a roll and chew it-causing my mother to "strike" to "protest" my gluttony. Of course, my mother is mainly afraid of breaking my belly!
this is my home on the tip of my tongue! Being born in this family is my luck in my previous life, and it is also my blessing and honor! If there is an afterlife, I will come to this home again!