I would like to post an essay recently written by my granddaughter, who is in the second grade of junior high school, to experience what a child in the Mood for Love sees and feels in a noodle shop.
My story with the noodle shop
? Wen/Jiawen
On Friday evening, in the small street noodle shop, in the rich aroma of braised soup, three bags, Two people, two bowls of noodles, half an hour of carefree time.
This noodle shop is located opposite my dance class. As soon as I stepped into the glass door with wooden handle, this place became my paradise. This place is neither big nor small, the business is neither hot nor cold, the location is good or bad, and even the portion of a bowl of noodles is neither too much nor too little.
There are only the proprietress, who is neither fat nor thin, and the helper in the store, but she rushes early every day to pick local chickens from the Dabie Mountains to make soup, buy ten-year-old yam powder to add to the noodles, and chop chili peppers for frying. After all the hard work of making peanut sauce, a bowl of noodles only costs fifteen yuan. Whenever my mother asked the proprietress with confusion on her face why a bowl of noodles was sold for such a small price, she would just respond with a naive smile: "I have to wait five minutes for a bowl of noodles. I can't let you wait in vain!" Gradually, because With the right time, right place, and right people, my mother and I became regular visitors here.
Indeed, the five-minute wait is more than worth it. Take the fried noodles I eat most often. Before the noodles are served, the delicious aroma penetrates into the nose and moistens the mouth and tongue. Then, orange-red carrot shreds, green cucumber shreds, golden fried soybeans, light brown peanuts and shiny fragrant meat sauce were all covered on the white noodles, as if they were covered with a mouth-watering strip. A stewed egg with a brown coat and a yellow belly lying lazily on the big quilt.
A small bowl and half a bowl of noodle soup. As old diners, the boss lady had already prepared it for us. Next, we used chopsticks to mix it into the noodles, so that every noodle was soaked in the meat sauce. , until the noodles with distinct colors of orange, green, yellow and brown are indistinguishable.
My mother and I hurriedly divided the noodles and couldn't wait to suck them like a storm, letting the refreshingness of shredded radish and cucumbers, the crispiness of fried beans, and the release of the tough noodles in every taste bud, and the body temperature continued to rise. The aroma kept swirling, and finally I raised my hand and neck to drink half the bowl of noodle soup in one go. At this time, he was sweating all over his body and his mouth was fragrant. He ate a bowl of noodles with the generosity of a Liangshanbo hero who drank and ate meat.
In fact, this bowl of noodles brings not only delicious taste, but also memories. I have also swallowed the noodle soup and tears after failing the weekly test. I have also been afraid that my physical fitness will not meet the standard, and my shaking hands cannot hold the chopsticks for eating noodles. I have also been so worried that I can't eat when I have delicious food in front of me... These are all noticed by the proprietress. Sometimes she will play an inspirational song, sometimes she will bring the egg yolk cake that says "If it is not sold out, it will be wasted if you don't eat it", sometimes she will hand over one or two plump and bright red tomatoes. In the singing of "Rainstorm, Rainbow, Sonorous Rose" and the fruit snacks that made me doubt that I had suffered a loss in the store, no matter how heartbroken I cried when I walked in, I could laugh and fall into the embrace of the sunset when I walked out.
Friday evening, small street noodle restaurant. A bowl of noodles, a bowl of soup, a few tears, a few smiles. The setting sun and the rich smoke of the braised soup brought out warmth, relief, and an incomparable happy time between me and the noodle shop.