Delicious steamed buns

People often say that steamed buns are delicious, but I have never tasted them and I don't know what they taste. This afternoon, my parents took me to the steamed bun shop to open my eyes and eat my fill. I finally got what I wanted that day. The steamed buns were whisked and thin-skinned, and there seemed to be a bag of juice in them. They were small and exquisite, shaped like a pagoda, translucent and strong, crystal clear and yellow, with a burst of fragrance on the top of the pagoda overflowing with the wind and similar in shape to steamed buns. No wonder they were called steamed buns. Generally, there are ten buns in a cage, each of which is like a small snowball, but there is a bumpy place on it. I was intoxicated by the aroma before it came up. I can't wait to swallow the whole steamed buns in one gulp. A cage of steamed buns came up, and I sat in a chair. The steamed buns gave off a faint fragrance. As soon as I smell this fragrant smell, I can't help eating it in big gulps. No sooner had he picked up a "chubby" and stuffed it into his mouth than he began to fight back. My stomach is growling with hunger at this moment, and I can't wait to enlarge my mouth and swallow four small steamed buns in one gulp. So I carefully picked up the steamed buns with chopsticks, because I took a small bite and the juice ran into my mouth like a horde. I dipped it in a little vinegar and put it into my mouth. The meat stuffing was loose and soft. As soon as I chewed it, its meat was suddenly loose and delicious. My mother said, "To eat steamed buns, you should first lick some vinegar, gently bite a hole, suck up the delicious soup inside, and then eat the skin and meat." The delicious essence of steamed buns is in the soup. I eat according to my mother's method. The soup is fresh, thin and tender. It's really delicious. Sure enough, I don't know if I don't eat steamed buns for a while, but I can't forget them once I eat them. I wolfed it down. Its meat is very full, a bite of fresh, thick and salty makes you want to eat it. So I pestered my mother to buy another guest. When my aunt brought it with a smile, how could I let it go? After eating one after another, I was full of fragrance and smacked my lips, and I couldn't help but praise: "Beauty! It's really delicious. " In the blink of an eye, I wiped it out again, touched my bulging belly, added a mouth, and the rest was unfinished. How's it going? Are you excited? Action is better than action. Go and eat steamed buns in your hometown!

Fried stinky tofu

This is a unique local snacks in Jiangnan in winter.

When I was young, I ran to the street after school. Of course, this was when I had some money in my pocket. Through the alley and over the bridge, you can smell the smell of fried stinky tofu. The manager of fried stinky tofu is a thin old man with white eyebrows and beard. He always picks a burden. The burden is actually a box made of wood. In front of the box, there are stinky tofu, soy sauce, Chili sauce and a stack of small plates, as well as a can bottle with several pairs of chopsticks. There is a small coal stove and a pot in the back box.

The old man always stands at the corner of the street and devotes himself to frying stinky tofu. I have never heard his shouts, but there are always many diners looking for fragrance and standing in a circle in front of his small burden. His stinky tofu is very distinctive. At first glance, it looks black and no different from other stinky tofu, but once it is put into the pot and then taken out of the pot, it becomes golden and delicious, coated with a layer of soy sauce or Chili sauce (his Chili sauce is homemade, bright red, spicy and comfortable), yellow, red and beautiful. Take a bite carefully (because it is very hot), the outside is yellow and the inside is white, the outside is crisp and the inside is tender, spicy and exciting. At this time, you are not eating but swallowing with your tongue rolling.

Old people always fry only a few pieces at a time, and fry several pieces for a few pieces, so all the people waiting for them eat alone, while others pay attention to each other. Most people who eat fried stinky tofu are women and children. It's really strange that women in the south of the Yangtze River don't eat spicy food, but they all become "spicy girls" when they get to this burden. They have to apply a thick layer of Chili sauce, and women don't care about being gentle at this time. They eat until their lips are red, tears are mixed, and hot sweat drops. The old man just kept saying: it's too spicy to stick, so don't eat too much. After all, he didn't stop it. Therefore, the elderly consume a bottle of Chili sauce every day.

At that time, my father gave me fifty cents a month, and at least half of the money was contributed to stinky tofu. A piece of stinky tofu costs a penny, and after eating one piece, the day can be quiet. Sometimes I don't plan to overspend, so I will refrain from running there for fear that hooks will grow in my eyes. However, at that time, as long as I accidentally slip to the old man's burden, the old man will always have an insight into everything, as if he found that there was no half penny in my pocket, and he would fry the most crisp and tender piece for me to eat with a smile. I'm sorry to eat for free. When my father sends me money next month, I'll return it to him immediately, and the old man will accept it, but I must fry an extra piece of stinky tofu for me.

It's been more than 2 years since I left that small town in the south of the Yangtze River, and I've never eaten such delicious fried stinky tofu (although I've eaten fried stinky tofu in other cities in the south of the Yangtze River, it always seems to taste a little worse). It always appears in my dreams, along with the thin old man with white beard and eyebrows who doesn't even know his name.

meat and bone porridge

I've only eaten meat and bone porridge once.

It was a Sunday morning in winter in the south of the Yangtze River, and my thrifty aunt suddenly offered to take me to eat meat and bone porridge. I was flattered and followed her all the way, for fear that she would suddenly change her mind.

Go along Qingshiban Road, cross the bustling food market and turn into an alley. Far away, I saw a small shop floating with white fog, and I heard the sound of an iron spoon knocking on the edge of the pot. My aunt led me into the shop, which was already empty.