What evokes memories and feelings

is often the innermost feelings,

the softest happiness and sweetness,

the warmest gratitude and thoughts.

For an affectionate woman who is sentimental, sensitive and obsessed with the past, I sincerely sigh how wonderful it is to have someone who loves me and the person I love in my lifetime.

In the potato harvest season in 1984, when I watched the large and small round potato eggs thrown from the soil by my parents with pickaxes, I was excited to grab the potatoes one by one and put them in bamboo baskets. I smelled the smell of small potatoes just emerging from the soil. I was greedy and grabbed a potato and shouted at my parents over my head, "I want to eat potatoes!"

There is a small square dining table in the courtyard, and there are four small stools beside the table. The dinner for a family of four is about to start in summer when the cool wind blows, the leaves rustle, the flowers are scattered, and the smell of potatoes and vegetables is attractive.

I can't wait to run to the briquette stove with my bowl chopsticks. At this time, my father, who is an excellent worker, looks like a cook. He can operate, cook, season and mix nutrition.

He is skillful, neat and in place, full of confidence, and full of smiles.

Dad looked at his mother, who had some doubts about his cooking, and at my brother and me who were drooling. He smiled and said to us, "This dish I cooked was specially learned from a big restaurant with my workmates. It's called braised potatoes. I'm sure you all like it. Don't worry, cook it immediately!"

Everything comes to him who waits, really only food and love can live up to it.

Dad's braised potatoes were really good, and the whole family gathered around the small table to enjoy their family and food, which was unparalleled and loved by their loved ones.

Because my family likes it, because potatoes are harvested every year, and in order not to let my family get used to the boredom of frying, boiling and cooking potatoes, my resourceful father specially learned this dish, hoping to carry it forward and pass it on to the family.

So my father taught my mother and me how to make this dish, hoping that when he is not with us in the future, we can also make braised potatoes that he taught us to love.

who would have thought that a good moral would turn into bad news?

after a few months, my father died in the line of duty and left us, leaving us in another world with a lot of unfinished business, his youth, his talent, his deep love and sustenance for his family.

It's been more than thirty years since I first ate braised potatoes cooked by my father.

And every time I cook this dish again, my heart will naturally think of my father, my childhood memories left by my father and those beautiful and precious memories when we were in the countryside.

When I think of a person and my father from a delicious food, my inner thoughts are so rich and powerful, so quiet and sentimental.

The past years are gone, but what is left for life is eternal wealth and gratitude.

As long as you have a grateful heart, even the smallest and all-encompassing things in the world can spark love in the depths of your soul, which is enough to touch yourself, activate energy and make it a spiritual rich person.

it is not uncommon to think of a person from a delicious food, but common in life. I often think of a person because of a delicious food, and think that "this is his (her) favorite food". When I think of a person because of a delicious food, I feel moved and happy.

he remembers the dish "stir-fried chrysanthemum" that he often ordered when he went to the hotel with me. He knows that this is my favorite. No matter whether I am in a good mood or in a bad mood, as long as this dish is presented, it is an authentic ecstasy dish.

the chopsticks in your hand stir up the stems and leaves of each chrysanthemum, and all the fatigue and unhappiness, all the confusion and helplessness at the moment when the fragrance of chrysanthemum is sent to your mouth are dispersed and disappeared, leaving only endless joy and laughter, as well as that touching moment.

Good food makes you happy, but I'm afraid it's more than pleasure to have someone to enjoy it with you.

liking a person and then liking her food, just like calling her name, can be called out casually, which is the spiritual strength of loving wealth, and it is even more grateful to be moved.

If you like someone for a long time, no matter how far apart they are, no matter for a year or a half, ten years, eight years or even a lifetime, you can still think of someone from a delicious food at any time and anywhere, and think that this is her favorite. Presumably this is the existence of love.

on that rainy day, it was rainy and rainy, and my mood was also infected. My tenderness was like rain, and my mood was like rain. There must be another mood to crowd out this mood.

coincidence is providence. A picture was uploaded from the mobile phone: It was also rainy, and he was sitting alone under the eaves of the courtyard, guarding a small table and drinking alone, but there was a dish "Stir-fried Chrysanthemum morifolium" on the table. He didn't say anything but three words: you know.

yes, I understand. You thought of me.

who do you think of when you think of a person from a delicious food?