Because there is Erni vegetable pancake from the neighboring village near the hometown station, so every time I think of my hometown, the last scene is to take the vegetable pancake into or out of the station every time.

In the rotation of spring, summer, autumn and winter, the pancakes that have just been laid out are steaming; paired with fresh vegetables, the sour, sweet, bitter and spicy blend creates a new level. It never bothers to compete with the delicacies of mountains and seas, but just quietly dazzles the taste buds of diners. The breeze blows, and the broken pancake crumbs burst out into the laughter of the elderly and children.

For me, nostalgia is not as euphemistic and warm as a boat ticket. My nostalgia starts with my taste buds, and I stay true to my taste buds. How to taste familiar flavors is what I have been trying to do outside. At noon, people crowded into the small shop labeled Shandong Grain Pancakes, and the bursts of noise seemed like a world away. It's like dreaming back to my childhood, where my grandma was baking buns in front of the door, and my parents were short-lived. The fragmentary dreams connected my childhood together, becoming more and more clear.

Travel thousands of miles and try hundreds of restaurants. The aroma of the pancakes is often the same, but the flavor of the sauce always has its own flavor. Maybe it’s because every time I eat at the station, it’s Erni vegetable pancakes from the neighboring village. So every time I eat their pancakes, it makes me choke up the most, because every time I eat it, it is a memory of returning home.

"The dew is white tonight, and the moon is bright in my hometown." The autumn wind in September has just arrived. At this time, there will be elders in the family sitting on the side of the road with small stools, making charcoal, rolling out noodles, baking pancakes, and rolling up chopsticks to make a thin layer. And our children will not be idle, rolling, playing, and then secretly breaking off a piece of dough with our dirty little hands. He walked away amidst the scoldings of his grandparents. The memories are always beautiful, the amazing skills at that time and the carefreeness back then. Even the land that I stepped on was now difficult for me to see from outside.

Grandpa and grandma are also old. When they rarely come back to accompany them, they take them to eat Erni vegetable pancakes from the nearby village.

My grandparents rarely ate out. They always felt that the food outside was not clean, not delicious, and the taste was not pure. That was not the case that time. Grandma went to find it after eating, and the boss started chatting and praising her. Later, when he was not busy, the boss asked grandma to make a few portions by herself. I was not familiar with the machine at first, but gradually became more comfortable with it. In fact, craftsmanship is something that time cannot erase. Memory is also something that needs to be carried. Every time I see Er Ni, the smiles and smiles of my grandparents never go away.

Vegetable pancakes have left me with the best memories and allowed me to spend carefree years. What kind of happiness is this!

I left my hometown, but I couldn’t leave the memory of vegetable pancakes that were deeply rooted in my bones. My homesickness has always been about Erni Cai Pancake, where it lingers and lingers.