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Food ingredients in memory
In ordinary daily life, everyone often comes into contact with composition, which is a narrative way that people express the relevant knowledge, experience and thoughts stored in memory in written form. I believe many people will find it difficult to write a composition. The following is the composition of food in my memory, which is carefully arranged for reference only, and I hope it will help everyone.

Food ingredients in memory 1 When I was a child, I liked to eat sweet-scented osmanthus lotus root, a plate of sweet-scented osmanthus lotus root and steamed lotus root slices with lavender powder in a white porcelain plate. The lotus root hole is filled with soft glutinous rice, and the porcelain plate is covered with golden osmanthus honey wrapped with several petals. When you gently pick up a piece with chopsticks, you will see a thin silk thread protruding from the lotus root, dripping with osmanthus honey.

Children like to eat sweet and soft things, and I am no exception. If I can smell the fresh sweetness in the air when I come home from school, I will cheer with joy.

Later, with the growth of age, heavy study brought me to my grandmother's house, which is closer to school. Grandma is a northerner to the core. She has been used to sandstorms and heavy rains in the northwest all her life, and there is always something that makes people shine.

But she can't make osmanthus lotus root.

This kind of sweet and waxy dish, which should belong to Jiangnan water town alone and has Huainan flavor, has never been eaten by grandma, let alone cooked. So my childhood, which seemed to be immersed in osmanthus honey, seemed to come to an abrupt end.

Studying day after day also made me gradually forget the lingering sweetness of my childhood until that day.

On an ordinary afternoon, I pushed open my grandmother's door, and the faint, familiar sweetness got into my nose again. I suddenly felt refreshed, put down my schoolbag and went straight to the kitchen. Sure enough, grandma is turning her back on me. Her short body is busy with a jar of osmanthus honey at hand.

"I know you like to eat, and I've always wanted to learn to make it for you. I don't know how the finished product tastes for the first time. Come and try it! " Grandma waved happily when she saw me. She smiled so kindly that even the lines around her eyes were full of vitality.

I stare big eyes, grab chopsticks and can't wait to taste a piece. In an instant, the fragrance of sweet, soft glutinous and osmanthus filled the mouth together. Looking into grandma's eyes, those weather-beaten and muddy eyes flashed again with a kind of satisfaction and happiness after seeing my satisfied and happy expression.

I am happy, so she is happy.

I almost don't want to swallow lotus root in one breath, but I must taste it carefully and slowly. I must experience every bit of love and care wrapped in sweetness. Separated love and care meet in my heart, forming a torrent, which is enough for me to wander among them.

The aftertaste of osmanthus lotus root lingered in my heart for a long time, which made me really feel the sweetness. It is the deepest sweetness and will not dissipate with time. That's love from my grandmother.

There is one food in my memory that impressed me deeply, and that is the traditional Dongguan food-oil angle.

Oil angle is a must-have food for Chinese New Year in Dongguan. Its appearance is like a gold ingot, crisp outside and crisp inside, which makes people drool.

Oil angle is small and exquisite in appearance, but its production process is very rigorous, which tests technology and experience.

My grandmother and I started making oil angle. First, we made two groups of flour, one with lard and the other with water. After kneading the two groups of flour, we will mix them together, which will make oil angle more crisp. Then make stuffing. The stuffing is fine sugar, full peanuts, and sometimes sesame seeds and shredded coconut, which will taste better and match harmoniously. Then wrap the dough with stuffing. This last step is also the most critical step, that is, frying in the pan. First, pour enough peanut oil into the pot, boil it over high fire, and then put it into oil angle. Watching grandma skillfully put oil angle into the oil pan one by one, when she put it in, there was no oil explosion in the oil pan. At first glance, grandma is an old hand. "At first, oil angle will sink, but as time goes by, it will float when it explodes. In the process of frying, they need to be turned over constantly, so that the fried oil angle is not only of good quality, but also means that financial resources are rolling in. When oil angle turns golden yellow, it can be taken out and tasted after cooling. " Grandma told me what oil angle did when she was doing it.

When you see oil angle and bright gold in front of you, it really looks like a small wallet! Pinch one and taste it. "Well, crisp and sweet. Delicious! " I said use a golden horn.

This simple and ordinary delicious food is still sought after and loved by people. After tasting a little oil angle, the strong flavor of the year will ripple in my heart. This is the hometown food in my memory-Jinjiao.

The food in memory consists of three parts: rice in the south and noodles in the north. I grew up in my grandmother's parents, and I grew up in corn cob and sorghum flour. But I have a preference for rice since I was a child, and I am more interested in the white, soft and chubby rice that will become sweeter and sweeter when I bite my teeth.

But that's in the north! The price of two bags of rice is almost enough to buy three bags of white flour, so rice can only be eaten on important days. Such as treating guests, visiting relatives and so on. At that time, my aunt would wash rice, buy food and cook a good meal. Although it's delicious, it's just stewed vermicelli with cabbage. Occasionally, adding a plate of sliced sausage is a surprise. But cutting sausages is for uncles, grandfathers and guests. Therefore, we can't eat more. There are only three or five slices in a bowl of rice, but my brother and I insist on sneaking more slices. Finally, it is often my grandfather who takes a sip of wine with a smile on his face, then puts two sausages on each of my brother and me, and finally my aunt drives him off the table. Scold a few more words, "what a glutton! How can adults drink if you eat again? " We just smiled at each other, served bowls, walked into the yard and sat on the steps to enjoy lunch slowly.

I can't forget that scene. The sky that day was very blue, extremely clean and thorough light blue. My brother and I sat on the stone mill under the old pagoda tree. When the wind blows, several white Sophora japonica flowers fall, and the shallow floral fragrance is mixed with the fragrance of the earth and the smell of sunshine. My brother and I both eat slowly. We carefully take a small bite of sausage, let the sweetness of sausage and the shallow sour taste of vinegar diffuse in our mouth, and then eat a big mouthful of rice to neutralize the taste. In order to enjoy sausages for a longer time, we will eat a lot of rice first, and then eat sausages.

Now, I don't have to be so careful about saving vegetables, because there are more vegetables than rice. Not only sausages, but also fish and shrimp. But I had never tasted that taste at that time. I was not so happy. Rice could no longer taste sweet, because there were too many flavors in my mouth, too rich to resist the unobtrusive sweetness.

That smell, only in my memory, will never appear on taste buds again.

The food composition in Memory 4 Xincun is a place full of food, not only sweet and delicious Italian syrup, but also original yuba and so on. Although there has never been a food festival here, the food here is endless.

I am most familiar with yuba, because in the past, there was an ancient tradition of making yuba opposite my friend's house. Every day, I watch the old man doing it in the open space next to him. The yuba there is delicious, and even Hong Kong TVB has filmed there!

When it comes to the production process, it is purely manual. Because it is handmade, it doesn't contain many preservatives and chemicals as the factory knows, which makes people feel at ease and tastes much more natural.

There are four pots where firewood is burned, which shows that this is really an old tradition. There is soybean milk in the pot, and there is a fan beside the pot.

The soybean milk there is also handmade in the original ecology. Soak soybeans in water, peel, grind, and then add water to make slurry. Under the action of the fan, there will be an obvious yellow thing on the surface of hot soybean milk, which looks and feels like a soft paper, and that is the predecessor of yuba. There are many ways to make yuba, but generally speaking, the producer will cut yuba from the middle of the soft skin with a carving knife. A round pot will be semicircular after being cut.

Then the producer will skillfully pick her up from the most suitable place and hang her on the bamboo that has already been prepared. Because there are several pots, you can choose another one after picking this pot. After picking four pots, yuba floated in the first pot. When the bamboo is full, it will be taken out to dry, and in a few days, it will become a really good yuba.

Xincun yuba is the best of yuba, which is famous far and near, so many people come to buy yuba in the morning, far and near.

To produce yuba, you can not only sell yuba, but also sell soybean milk! It's killing two birds with one stone!

The yuba in Xincun is really worth tasting!

In this vast world, there are countless mouth-watering foods, and the only one that can stimulate my taste buds most is jiaozi.

Jiaozi, I believe everyone is familiar with it. After all, it is also a well-known "gourmet". It is an indispensable food during the Spring Festival, and it is also the food that many poor families dream of. It makes us feel warm.

I remember that on the 30th of last year, according to the custom in my hometown, every household had to take care of jiaozi, and my family was no exception. On this day, grandma got up early to prepare the ingredients for dumpling stuffing. Grandma put all the ingredients in a big bowl. Of course, there is essential pork in it, which is also my favorite. She put them all in a bowl, put on gloves and stirred them, only to see them enjoying a free massage leisurely, but they didn't know the danger was coming. I only heard the sound of "bang bang" on the chopping board, and I could imagine them facing grandma's sanctions, just cutting holes in them with a kitchen knife. I remember feeling really sorry for them.

After a while, grandma began to mix dough, and the dough became stronger and softer through grandma's skillful hands, just like the little face of a newborn baby. After the dough was mixed, I began to roll jiaozi. This time, I volunteered to participate. I saw that my rolling pin is a stick, which should be able to beat the disobedient dough. Then, I grabbed a piece of dough, put it on a smooth chopping board, picked up a "massage instrument" to "serve" it, pressed it comfortably, and offered it a sumptuous banquet to make it full, which was simply the treatment of a five-star hotel.

But they don't know that their ultimate fate is still boiling in hot water and eventually ending their lives. After jiaozi served it, the hot air steamed my face red, which made my taste buds satisfied as never before.

Jiaozi, a happy and loving food, has made me unforgettable for a long time.

I remember when I was a child, I would go to the breakfast shop next to the food market with my father every weekend. Bright mixed noodles and fried golden fritters are my childhood memories.

In the morning, my father and I came to the quaint breakfast shop. The shopkeeper has fried the first pot of fried dough sticks, and the wooden bench and table are a little old. Several dusty electric fans shook their heads feebly. Just as I looked up at the owner's fried dough sticks, two bowls of hot noodles were brought up.

Dad carefully turned the bottom up with chopsticks. The fragrant lard and fresh soy sauce are mixed together, and a few shallots are dotted on it, which makes people's appetite open. I felt a little greasy at first, and then the salty taste of soy sauce and the smell of shallots stimulated every taste bud on the tip of the tongue and every olfactory cell in the nose. They were introduced into the brain together, and only two words "delicious" were produced.

Eating fragrant mixed noodles, the owner's action of frying fried dough sticks once again attracted me, which makes me remember it still. I saw him knead a dough into long strips and then cut it into many pieces with a knife. He grabbed a handful of glistening flour, sprinkled it evenly like snow, then threw the dough up like a chef and fell heavily on the table. After that, he stacked two pieces of dough together and pressed them in the middle with a small bamboo stick, and the dough was about to enter the oil pan. He picked up the dough, stretched it quickly in the air, and then put it in the oil pan. Then he picked up a pair of chopsticks longer than my arm and kept rolling fried dough sticks in the oil pan. The color of fried dough sticks gradually changed from white to yellow, and finally became Huang Chengcheng like gold. Just when I was deep in thought, the golden fried dough sticks were already on the table, and the oil on the fried dough sticks was still dripping. Take a bite, and the crispy and delicious feeling is simply unparalleled.

Time flies, in the blink of an eye, that breakfast shop has disappeared with the food market, but although the fragrant mixed noodles and golden fried dough sticks can still be eaten in other stores, the strange smell is gone forever, leaving only faint memories.

When the wind blows gently, my thoughts drift back to my childhood when I was still in primary school, when I walked with my grandmother.

In my opinion, my grandmother is not suitable for cooking. Grandma can't cook many dishes, but she can only fry, steam and cook, but she will still cook for me in different ways. So every meal when I was a child was different from others. But I still enjoy it.

On a hot afternoon, cicadas sang loudly in the tree. When I was six years old, I was already in kindergarten. I finally look forward to the summer vacation, but I still have homework. However, I am young after all, and naturally I don't have much homework. Before long, I left my homework and went crazy with my companions. In the evening, the children went home in the sunset.

When I got home, my grandmother came over with a small bowl. I don't remember what my grandmother said at that time, except that I took a sip and spit it out. Because it has no taste, I only liked to eat sugar or sweet things, so the taste of mung bean soup was the most disgusting taste when I was a child.

After many years, I grew up gradually, and the bowl of mung bean soup has been forgotten by me. Until one day, my grandmother lifted the veil again.

It was also a summer, a particularly hot summer. The cicada still sings tirelessly in the tree. It's just that the season hasn't changed, the cicada hasn't changed, and it has become this vicissitudes. Grandma has more gray hair, and I have grown up and more homework. When I was nine years old, I was writing my homework, and the hot air blew, which made me very tired. I don't know when my grandmother has been behind me, shaking her fan for me.

I'm still sweating. I know my grandmother saw it. She got up and went to the kitchen. After a while, she came carefully with a bowl. She said, "Take a break." Say that finish, pass me the bowl, I took my grandmother's bowl and took a sip, and a faint fragrance spread in my mouth. I exclaimed, "mung bean soup." Grandma smiled and nodded. This smell opened the door to my memory, and I remembered the most annoying smell of childhood and childish nursery rhymes.

In this hot summer, I actually like mung bean soup, which was the most annoying soup when I was a child. My childhood disgust has completely disappeared.

Time is ruthless and often slips away inadvertently. Like water, years pass by, and such years can't stand our carelessness. Mung bean soup is sweet and affectionate in my heart.

Food in Memory Composition 8 The food in memory was wrapped by my grandmother, jiaozi.

Grandma's jiaozi is thin and stuffed. It won't be as big as other jiaozi, and it will boil. Grandma wrapped jiaozi, fat in vain, lying quietly like a fat doll, looking very appetizing.

Grandma is almost eighty years old, but she is still in good health. Her specialty is jiaozi. She often packages jiaozi herself. She said that other people bought jiaozi just to eat, regardless of appearance, which made people lose their appetite.

Every time my grandmother hired jiaozi, I followed her, and she didn't mind me. She asked me to help her with noodles and chopsticks. After the packaging is finished, those huge jiaozi are placed on the curtain, just like a fruit bowl. Light the firewood, light it, gently shake it with the fan in your hand, and the red fire burns in the firewood. Occasionally, a few grains of corn "explode" in the fire. The fried corn kernels are like popcorn. After a while, rays of hot air come out of the pot, making the dry pot sizzle and the water whir. Every once in a while, my grandmother would put a colander into the pot upside down to prevent jiaozi from touching the bottom of the pot. The water boiled and jiaozi was not ripe. Grandma added two bowls of cold water to the pot. When jiaozi matured, the room was full of steam, as if I were surrounded by clouds in the sky. My grandmother went over and asked me to squat down and have a look. I looked at it, and it turned out that all these white gases were floating on it. I just looked at the beautiful scenery, and my grandmother smiled at my stupid appearance.

When the fire is about to burn out, my grandmother will take a big washed basin and put jiaozi in it with a colander. Full of jiaozi, steaming, pearls in the basin, shiny, grandma smiled and put the basin on the table, greeting us for dinner.

My grandmother's jiaozi is unique. It accompanied my childhood. So whenever I pack jiaozi at home, I think of my grandma's jiaozi and my grandma.

The first food that impressed me deeply was "snowballing" when I lived in a big yard as a child.

Uncle who sells "snowballs" often wears a white coat and pushes a trolley with a big red signboard to shuttle through the compound. He smiled gently and was patronized. He immediately squeezed jiaozi out of the tiger's mouth like magic, rolled thick soybean powder on it and handed it to the customer in a box.

The taste of snowball donkey is sweet and sticky, but it is not greasy or sticky. Bite down, a fragrance scattered in the mouth, with a little fishy smell. I always pester my grandfather to buy it for me, especially in the morning. If I can eat a steaming box of "snowballs" and the same warm and sweet soybean milk, besides the hidden danger of tooth decay, it will almost be a perfect breakfast.

When I was in primary school, I moved out of the compound and came to Changsha. During that time, my memorable food was fried rice with eggs cooked by my grandfather. He gave up his leisurely retirement and accompanied me to Changsha.

Ordinary white rice with eggs, and sometimes a few ham sausages, stir-fry together, but there is no lack of flavor. Snow-white rice is dotted with Huang Chengcheng's eggs, which is very attractive. A little shiny thing is sprinkled on the rice, which makes people's forefinger move. For a time, I ate fried rice with eggs cooked by my grandfather almost every day, and I never got tired of it. Probably any food with emotion will not be boring anyway.

After entering junior high school, the academic burden is aggravated. I started boarding and could only go home on weekends. At this time, the food I miss most is the beer duck that my grandfather is good at.

Beer duck, as its name implies, is to add beer to the fried duck to make the taste more layered.

When grandpa cooks beer duck, he is used to adding red pepper, garlic cloves, onion knots and ginger slices, plus the salty sauce unique to his hometown, which really has the flavor of his hometown. After the duck is fried, the sauce is black and fragrant, which is extremely attractive. Every time I eat beer duck, I always chew chicken wings and legs first, and then bite my neck and duck rack. Finally, I don't even let go of ingredients such as peppers. I can eat three bowls of white rice. The next morning, grandpa will cook me a bowl of rice noodles with the remaining soup ... I can't think about it anymore, my mouth is watering!

As a typical "foodie", I have eaten countless delicious foods since I was a child. And the most unforgettable food for me is the snacks I ate as a child and simple home cooking!