Grandpa is a very kind old man. When I was a child, I always liked to throw palm-sized grape leaves on the bed in the golden sunshine and pull my grandfather to breathe fresh air together. Come to a simple outdoor snack bar and ask for a bowl of tofu brain.

A bowl of crystal clear bean curd brain is like a piece of uncut white jade, which is suppressed without any trace or flaw. So my mouth is watering, but I can't bear to destroy it. Pouring a spoonful of fragrant marinade on this white jade seems to be dotted with dark amber, which is undoubtedly the icing on the cake.

Finally, I can't resist the temptation of delicious food. A spoonful of tofu brain is like a ribbon wrapped around my tongue. It's tender and slippery, and it melts in your mouth. It's really a pleasure on the tip of your tongue. The entrance of tofu brain is like a mint, refreshing and lubricating.

This is a magnolia flower, blooming quietly, surrounded by delicious food and love. That lilac is nine years old.

Grandma is a rural woman, always taking eager little steps. In my impression, grandma always has endless work and endless heart. But grandma always takes time out of her busy schedule to cook me a bowl of sticky pumpkin porridge. A bowl of golden pumpkin porridge was placed in front of me in a small porcelain bowl with blue flowers on a white background.

The golden pumpkin is cut into small pieces, just like the little crystal sprinkled by the fairy in the sky. A spoonful of pumpkin porridge, the sweetness of maltose slowly surrounded me. When the upper and lower teeth touch gently, the fragrance is hidden, and the sweetness of candy becomes the pure fragrance of food. After eating a bowl, people can't help eating another bowl. But on a rainy afternoon, I had to eat pumpkin porridge.

Grandma had to go to the vegetable field at the intersection to pick pumpkins in the drizzle. When grandma came back with a full pumpkin, something unfortunate happened. It was just a sudden brake, and the pumpkin was smashed to pieces. Grandma can't cook porridge for me on short steps any more. Every time I drink sweet pumpkin porridge, there is always a lilac in my heart, which is melancholy and slightly bitter.

The smell of memory spreads on the tip of the tongue, and Hua Teng usually haunts me.