No matter in study, work or life, everyone has written compositions, and they must be familiar with all kinds of compositions. With the help of compositions, people can achieve the purpose of cultural exchange. I believe that writing essays is a headache for many people. Below is a collection of essays on the taste of love for the third grade of junior high school. Welcome to read and collect. The Taste of Love Composition 1 for the third grade of junior high school

After school, my mother did not use her usual "nagging", but just drove quickly. I was also leisurely, taking my mobile phone and playing WeChat.

I looked up suddenly and was shocked to find that this was not the way home. "Where...are we going!" I asked curiously. My mother smiled and said, "Drink tea." Drink tea? I've never seen her do any research on tea!

When we arrived at a small shop next to the entrance of a university, my mother said: "You have been studying very hard recently. I heard that the ice chrysanthemum and wolfberry tea here is very healthy, natural, and very cheap. Aunt Miao (my mother’s colleague) gave me two coupons, so I brought you to try it and see how it goes.”

I chose a seat by the window and sat down. I had nothing to do but watch. Looking out the window. The sunshine in May was bright and dazzling, lighting up the hall and warming my heart. I caught a glimpse of my mother, playing with her mobile phone with a smile on her face. Maybe she was addicted to chatting with another mother. That smile was as bright as the sun.

A waiter came to us with two porcelain cups, a pot of boiling water and two mesh bags. I subconsciously stared at the porcelain cups and looked at the two ice chrysanthemums in the porcelain cups. , four or five bright red wolfberries and a shriveled lemon. The ice chrysanthemum is thin and small, but its petals are elegant and beautiful. The grooves on the surface of the wolfberry looked like wrinkles on an old man's face. I looked at them interestingly and shook them.

When the waiter poured in the boiling water, the scene immediately changed. The ice chrysanthemum started to dance due to the impact of the water. It gently, slowly and delicately spread out its crystal white and soft petals, like a young girl dancing for the first time, it danced passionately and unrestrainedly. , want to integrate all the nutrients accumulated in the body into the water. The wolfberry also slowly sank to the bottom of the water, swelling until it was as round as a goose egg, so cute. After being soaked in water, the lemon becomes moist and plump, as fresh and attractive as when it first grew on the tree.

I was stunned, and my mother urged: "Drink it quickly." After that, she started her "big talk". I wanted to say to her: "How annoying!" But the words rushed to my lips and I took them back. I listened patiently as she slowly talked about the mistakes I made when I was young. I think that I am that ice chrysanthemum, wolfberry or lemon. After my mother's teachings, it is like being soaked in boiling water, stretching myself and finding myself.

Under my mother’s repeated urging, I gently raised the cup and sipped the golden clear liquid. The sweetness of ice chrysanthemum and the aroma of wolfberry were different because of the sourness of lemon. , sip after sip, moisten your heart with each sip.

In my mother’s smile, I found that this tea has a certain taste. The taste is soothing and calms people's anxiety. That taste is the taste of love. The Taste of Love Composition 2 for the third grade of junior high school

Maternal love is like a bowl of hot noodles, giving us health and nutrition. Mom is the chef in our family, and her specialty is "beef noodles", which is also my favorite meal.

I remember one time after school, I came home and there was no one there, but my stomach growled. I said to myself: "Hey, why didn't mom cook? I'm starving to death." "Mom must be working overtime again..." I complained reluctantly. My mother is always like this, always coming back later than me. Thinking about other mothers, they always prepare meals at home and wait for their children to come back... The more I think about this, the angrier I get, but there is nothing I can do, so I have to first Go do your homework.

After a while, I heard the sound of pushing the door, and my mother came back! "Tian Tian..." I heard my mother calling me, but I didn't say a word. My mother walked into the house and saw me doing my homework: "Are you hungry? My child, I'm so sorry. I came back late today because I had something to do. I'm going to make beef noodles for you now..." Mom said as she walked in The kitchen.

I sat at the table and looked at my mother busy in the kitchen, and I suddenly felt that I was doing something wrong. My mother leaves early and comes home late for us. She must be very tired from work. But when she comes home, she not only has to help me with my homework, but also cooks. But I don’t know how to feel sorry for her, thank her, and blame her. It’s so ignorant!

So, I walked into the kitchen: "Mom, let me help you cook!" "No, mom can be alone, you can do your homework!" "I've finished my homework, let me Let me help you..." I said coquettishly.

My mother couldn’t resist me, so she had to agree.

The cooking started, and I watched with relish, waiting to help my mother. I saw my mother cut the beef first, scalded it with boiling water to remove the blood foam, then heated the oil pan, stir-fried chopped green onions, ginger slices, star anise, dried chili peppers, etc., added the freshly prepared beef, and stir-fried for a few times over high heat, " Ah, it smells so good. Mom, you are such an expert at cooking!" I watched my mother add soy sauce and wine, fill the wok with water, and start cooking over medium heat.

While waiting, I helped my mother rub her back and asked her to check my homework. Soon, after the water boiled, my mother asked me to help her get a handful of noodles, cook them, and add a little sesame oil and chopped green onions. You're done. "Wow, it smells so good. It must be delicious." After it was done, I couldn't wait to take a bite, "Wow, it's so delicious." This is the taste of maternal love. I tasted it, so happy! I gave it to my mother first After serving a bowl of noodles, my mother said to me with a smile: "My daughter has grown up." I was so ashamed when I heard this sentence...

I still said the same thing: I love My family’s chef! I love my mother! The taste of love Essay 3 for the third grade of junior high school

The taste of love is very bitter.

People are not saints, how can they have no mistakes? We are just ordinary people, and it is inevitable that we will make mistakes and leave regrets. For me, the elementary school period was a mess, and I was idle all day long. I don’t like to hear it. In math class, maybe I simply don’t like the teacher, and I don’t know where I got hooked during his class. If I don’t listen in class, the consequence will naturally be a failure in the exam. When my mother finds out, she will be beaten severely. But my mother bought a huge pile of exercise books and kept working on the problem-solving tactics, but the good times did not last long. As long as I relaxed a little, I couldn't solve any problem, and I got red marks all over again.

At that time, I felt that love was like a cup of strong tea, very bitter...

The taste of love was very sweet.

When I entered junior high school, I began to understand the importance of learning, so I wanted to work faster and often turned on a night light. Every night when the stars were full of stars and the lights in the houses were extinguished, I could always Hearing some movement in the kitchen and light footsteps, then my door would open softly. Oh, no - that's not a supernatural event, it's the sound of my mother heating milk for me. She turned the volume down to the minimum and said: "My child, drink the milk so you can sleep better." That back was a little curved; that voice was a little hoarse. .

At this time, I feel that love is like a jar of honey, very sweet...

The taste of love is very fragrant.

"I'm back!" "Hurry up and wash your hands, the food will be ready soon" "Whoosh——" The sound of mother stir-frying filled the whole room, and the pots of steaming meals were neatly placed on the floor. Place on the table. And my favorite drink is my mother’s specialty—Laohuo Soup. Every week, my mother would cook Gastrodia elata and stew pig brains, and make Tianqi chicken soup to replenish my health. "It's not enough. Have another bowl. These soups are good for your health, especially for teenagers like you..." I think this sentence is familiar to everyone. It all comes from the same person - mother.

At this time, I feel that love is like a bowl of soup, very thick...

Maternal love is really omnipotent and changeable. It plays different roles at different times. The role may be the hopeful eyes outside the examination room under the scorching sun, or it may be the safe harbor built for you during natural disasters, or it may be the beacon that illuminates your future... Our mothers are very ordinary, but they are very important to us. Love is never mediocre! Let us hold our mothers' hands well before their hair roots are covered with silver frost and their faces are covered with vicissitudes of life. I think this is the happiest thing!

Love The taste is fragrant and sweet but cannot avoid being bitter. The taste of maternal love is fickle, but I think the topic of maternal love will never change! The Taste of Love Composition 4 for the third grade of junior high school

The taste of maternal love is like a A bowl of tomato and egg noodles, sour and sweet, the taste lingers in my heart for a long time and I will never forget it in my life. ——Inscription

I have loved eating tomato and egg noodles cooked by my mother since I was a child. They are sweet and sour, smooth and delicious. Every bite tastes of love.

My mother likes to cook noodles for me. When I was happy, she would wash, slice, and peel the tomatoes, with a crooked smiling face engraved on each slice of tomato; when I was sad, she would put more tomatoes in there. The sour noodles and the sour soup made me burst into tears as I ate them. At this time, my mother would hug me, and all my worries would disappear.

I remember that when I was twelve years old, I was very disappointed in a monthly exam. When I got home, I locked myself in my room and looked at the bright red cross on the test paper. I felt the urge to cry.

It was my mother. She brought a bowl of tomato and egg noodles with a warm aroma and gently knocked on my door. I lowered my head, thinking my mother would blame me. However, what I was waiting for was not blame or complaint, but my mother's gentle words: "Baby, come and eat noodles!" I raised my hazy tearful eyes, and in the tears, my mother's image was particularly great. Her short words were like a bright torch, illuminating the dark sky in my heart very brightly.

I silently picked up the soup bowl and took a sip of soup, trying to swallow all the troubles and annoyance in my heart. The sweet and sour soup suddenly entered my mouth with its slippery texture. I tasted the familiar taste, and suddenly, I tasted a very strong smell. That is love, including my mother's encouragement and comfort to me.

There is a passage in "Peter Pan": "Every mother will add a special seasoning to every dish she prepares for her children. This seasoning can only be prepared by the mother." Because this seasoning is love."

A month later, I got good grades in the monthly exam and went home happily. When I opened the door, I saw my mother wearing an apron and busy in the smoke. As soon as she saw me coming home, my mother quickly scooped out a spoonful of noodles with a spoon and said to me with a smile: "Baby, come on, eat the noodles!"

I took a bite. This time, I tasted love. However, this time, what I got was no longer encouragement and comfort, but trust and pride!

The taste of love is different, especially maternal love. Whenever my mom puts some love into her tomato and egg noodles, I can taste it. Because the taste of love contains encouragement, comfort, trust and pride! The taste of mother's love accompanies me on the road of growth, and accompanies me to fly freely in the sky of my dreams! The taste of love for the third grade of junior high school composition 5

"The sound of firecrackers eliminates the year old, and the spring breeze brings warmth to Tusu." The most exciting festival of the year is the Spring Festival. In addition to the impressive sound of firecrackers, the sweet and delicious food during the Spring Festival must also be Let it be fresh in the memory.

The New Year’s Eve dinner during the Spring Festival is always so sumptuous. The delicacies that are usually hard to taste were served on the table one by one like home-cooked side dishes on that day. Watching the delicious food on the table Being unable to eat in front of you is indeed an unbearable "torture". I was already salivating. I wanted to eat but didn't dare to eat first. When I thought of the adults' warnings, I had to suck back the saliva again.

Some people may wonder why I don’t dare to eat first. Do I not even have the courage to eat a little secretly? No, you're wrong. It's not so much that you don't dare to eat first, but that you don't want to eat first. Because if you eat it first, you must not let anyone notice it, and you will most likely eat it like a wolf. Maybe there was pleasure on the tip of the tongue for a moment, but that was only the superficial taste, and the deeper taste was not tasted. To me, the deeper taste is the deep love and affection of the elders hidden under the ingredients. It is precisely because of this that we can have New Year's Eve dinner every year.

I'm afraid that I will lose the heart in the dish.

Furthermore, to take a step back, even if you don’t taste what you mean, it is a traditional virtue of Chinese culture that the elders use the chopsticks first and cannot be destroyed.

Perhaps many people have not participated in the preparation of New Year’s Eve dinner and do not understand how difficult it is to prepare a meal. However, I have participated once. Although I did not participate in the whole process, the length of time is rare. Although I didn't participate in the whole process, I still felt very tired. It reminded me that this happens every year, so I couldn't help but cherish the feelings in it even more.

Love is a big topic, a smile is love, a word of comfort is love, helping others is love, defending the home and country is also love, love is everywhere in life, it can be big or small It's very small, just like there is love in a meal, it can be seen from this.

The taste of the food may not be the best, but I love it. I think this is the most delicious in the world! The Taste of Love Composition 6 for the third grade of junior high school

That day, the sky was clear, and the gentle sunshine shone on my face for a while, then on the trees, and finally jumped and settled on my flower jacket...

In the afternoon, my classmates and I made an appointment to go to the park to play together. Before leaving, my mother stopped me. I saw her running into the room, taking out my floral jacket, draping it on my shoulders, smiling and saying to me: "Put it on and play. It will keep you warm in case the weather gets cold."

I looked up at the sky, took off the flower jacket without hesitation, put it back in my mother's hand, and said, "It's okay, the sky is so good, how could it change?" Besides, I don’t feel comfortable wearing it to play. Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving now.”

Mom smiled helplessly.

I can imagine that she watched my back with worry as I disappeared around the corner of the intersection near my home.

I happily ran to the park where I met my classmates. Just as we were having fun, the sky suddenly turned cloudy. After a while, the sky that was clear just now seemed to be covered with a gray gauze, and the dark clouds became lower and lower. Then, the wind came, getting stronger and stronger. The rain is coming, getting heavier and heavier. My clothes were quickly soaked by the unexpected storm. I felt as cold as a small tree swaying in the wind and rain, and it became more and more difficult to stand. At this time, my mother's words came to my mind. I really regret that I didn't listen to my mother's words. I wish I had put on that flower jacket.

But it was too late. The wind was blowing harder and harder, and the rain was falling harder and harder. The drops splashed on my face and splashed with small splashes. It was so cold! I couldn't help but shudder again.

My friends and I quickly ran to the pavilion in the park. The leaves in front of us were blown by the wind, and the falling leaves were flying in the air, like crazy butterflies.

I looked up at the dark sky, filled with complaints. Why did the sky change so quickly? It was still sunny when I left, but why did it suddenly become covered with dark clouds and pouring rain?

After a while, the rain stopped. I said hello to my classmates and hurried home. When I ran to the intersection, I saw my mother. She was holding an umbrella and holding my floral jacket at the door, waiting for me. She looked anxiously, as if waiting for a bird to return to its nest. .

As soon as she turned her head and saw me, she immediately ran over and put a flower jacket on my shivering body.

Looking at me who was soaked in water, my mother’s eyes were filled with distress. She wiped the raindrops from my face, and I suddenly felt that my mother's hands were so cold. You can imagine how long my mother waited for me outside.

My nose was sore, and I threw myself into my mother's arms. Tears flowed down my cheeks and dripped on the warm flower jacket. In an instant, I felt my mother's love for me and tasted the taste of love. It was neither sweet nor bitter, nor sour nor astringent, but a wonderful taste.