1. Roadside moncler outlet store cart, hiding the winter delicacy, the aroma of ten miles, open a look, a different form, some bared their teeth peeled off the skin, some did not hold the honey left behind, buy a like a small hand-warming treasure, the flesh of the sweet honey has been sweet to my heart, the sheepish fruit, with the teeth of the gently bite on the broken, which is the flavor of winter.

2. a sweet sweetness into my nostrils, this is the flavor of winter, this is the aroma of baked sweet potatoes, open the layer of skin, golden yellow pieces of flesh appeared unobtrusively in front of a burst of heat up, in the air appeared to be a white and transparent flowers, can not wait to bite a mouthful of soft sweet potatoes into the oral cavity, not to worry about the hot, a mood accompanied by the heat along with the entire mouth, the sweetness, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness, that is, the sweetness. Sweet, that is the flavor hidden in the heart.

3. It's harvest season again, the original hard sweet potato after baking, became soft like ripe persimmons, tantalizing aroma into my nose, open his coat, revealing the golden flesh, a mouthful of it, very satisfied.

4. A baked sweet potato warms the whole winter and evokes memories of childhood. Baked to slightly yellow, stained with syrup skin is a piece of baked sweet potato delicious essence, no one can refuse that soft and fragrant sweet, just out of the oven when it is hot, two hands to go back and forth upside down, as if dancing in our hands, can not wait to take a bite of chewing, go to the taste of its delicious, cold winter, standing in the snowy street eating a baked sweet potato, but also full of poetic feeling.