In daily study, work and life, everyone is familiar with writing. Writing is a narrative way in which people express the relevant knowledge, experience and thoughts stored in memory in written form. I believe that writing a composition is a headache for many people. The following is the taste composition of my hometown for everyone. Welcome to read and collect it. The flavor of hometown composition 1

One side outside the warm sun is blue, one side is dark green after a spring stream, and the other side is pale yellow under the bright moon, which is the flavor of hometown I only remember.

this is an ordinary village.

A few loud crows of chickens came into a small room with white walls and black tiles on time, which pulled me out of my sleep. I blinked my sleepy eyes to adapt to the warm sun hanging over my window, and my mood couldn't help being cheerful. Then I leaned against the window and looked at the blue sky, waiting for a loud and powerful cry from a distance: "Fried fruit strips, mouse shells and duck mother twists, five yuan for a bowl!" Waiting for the smell of hometown to pervade the alley outside the house.

The village is built by a spring stream. In the afternoon, there are often happy children playing by the stream, and the splashing water floats to my side, which is helping my aunt to bake fish. The newly caught fish hissed in the fire and slowly became brown. In the fragrance, my uncle walked out of the dark green banana forest behind the stream with a bunch of bananas, patted the bananas in his arms and warmly greeted him: "Come and taste the taste of my hometown!"

A bright moon hangs in the horizon in the distance, and the stars are hidden. The evening breeze blows, carrying the fragrance of this big family's hot food far away. Grandpa cheerfully brought an altar of glutinous rice wine from the house and said, "This wine has been brewed at home for several years, but there is no such store after this village." After opening the jar, a strong bouquet of wine scattered under the night, and a few osmanthus trees that were carefully cared for by grandpa seemed not to be outdone. A touch of yellowish flowers hid among the green leaves and gave off a refreshing fragrance. In this intoxicating moonlight, in the intoxicating smell of my hometown, chatting with my grandparents, I am also slightly drunk.

The flavor of hometown is different from the bustling and colorful flavor of the city. A mountain, a lake, there is no artificial carving behind the mountains and rivers in the city, there is only a unique nature and tranquility.

However, I am getting farther and farther away from the whistle, rockery and artificial sugar eating in this city, away from the blue outside a warm window, away from the dark green behind a spring stream, away from a pale yellow under a bright moon and away from the taste of my hometown. The distant hometown, the hometown implicated in my endless thoughts, now, looking back on your smell, can I find my way back?

grade three: I really want to hold your hand. The taste of my hometown is engraved in my heart like a portrait, which I will never forget ...

-Inscription

My hometown is located in Zhanjiang, the southernmost tip of the mainland of China. The environment here is pleasant and there are countless foods. But what fascinates me most is the boiled chicken.

White-cut chicken, as its name implies, is a chicken cooked without strong seasonings. Maybe you will ask, what fascinates you about such a tasteless chicken? Therefore, it is necessary to pay attention to the texture of chicken. There is not much else in Zhanjiang, but there are plenty of open farmland. Chicken breeders will release chickens from their cages every morning, guide them to the open space, scatter rice and miscellaneous rice, and let them eat freely and run freely. This kind of chicken is called "ground chicken" locally. Therefore, the authentic white-cut chicken is ground chicken. This completely natural stocking makes the chicken healthier and more delicious. In my family, the whole family likes to eat boiled chicken, which is influenced by grandma. Grandma is a native of Zhanjiang. She loves life and food, and she can cook good dishes. Among them, the best one she cooks and her favorite is boiled chicken. Every holiday, grandma would cook boiled chicken for us to eat, and the kitchen at that time was grandma's world. Grandma first depilated a fresh chicken, dug out its internal organs, washed it and boiled it, then put the whole chicken in the pot, added a spoonful of salt and closed the lid. After waiting for more than ten minutes, I opened the lid and saw that the chicken skin was yellow. At this time, the white-cut chicken can be cooked. The best boiled chicken is that the chicken has just been separated from the chicken bone, and the chicken bone still has some blood color. At this time, the chicken is the tenderest, smoothest and most delicious. After the chickens are cold and frozen, grandma will cut them into small pieces, and the delicious white-cut chicken can be served.

With the hard-boiled chicken on the table, the big dinner on New Year's Eve began. While eating boiled chicken and other meals, my aunts and uncles talked about the joy of the year. Cousins and I will "grab the hand" for delicious chicken legs and wings. Every time the white-cut chicken is swept away.

I have traveled to many cities in other provinces and tasted local chickens. Although the tastes are different, the spicy ones are only spicy and the sweet ones are only sweet, which is not as delicious as the original boiled chicken in my hometown. Parents also said that chickens that have been eaten for half their lives are the best in their hometown, and they can never get tired of eating them. Unlike other chickens, the white-cut chicken in my hometown decorates itself with various seasonings. It shows people its truest and most original nature and makes people praise it. It is just like a native, simple and true, and does not need to decorate itself with various false names. Perhaps this is why my family and I, as well as my hometown people are obsessed with boiled chicken.

Maybe I will go far away for my studies and career in the future, but whenever I think of delicious boiled chicken, I will remember my lost grandmother, the joy of eating boiled chicken as a child, my far-away hometown and the simple people in my hometown. Boiled chicken is the taste of hometown, and it is the taste of the people in hometown returning to nature. The flavor of hometown 3

What is the flavor of hometown? It is that cup of deep turbid wine brewed at home, that touch of moonlight full of sorrow, and that piece of red maple as red as blood. These tastes are vigorous, cold or blazing, but they all have similarities-they all have our own feelings, that is, missing our hometown. This kind of emotion can't be forgotten by Chinese people all their lives, no matter where they live, the sighing caused by the full moon nightclub.

the flavor of my hometown remains the deepest in my heart, which is the noodles cooked by my grandmother. Because of her rural background, grandma always carries the simplicity, diligence and wisdom of farmers. A spoonful of white flour mixed with water under her hands can always show various modes. When I was a child, I watched my grandmother twist a small dough flexibly in her hands and put it on the chopping board, and it had already become a flower roll. At that time, I couldn't help but be surprised. I squatted on the chopping board and watched my grandmother shaping the little dough one by one. I asked my grandmother, "Grandma, how did you do it?" How so fast? " Grandma squatted down with a smile, grabbed my face, and then smiled and said to me in Shaanxi dialect, "It will take a long time. Why, do you want to learn?"

I nodded. Grandma gave me a small piece of noodles and told me, "You should roll this piece of noodles first, then twist it, and the two halves will stick together." But I don't know if my understanding is wrong or my grandmother's hands are too fast. I haven't learned how to roll flowers so far, but my grandmother's ingenuity has left a deep impression on me. From then on, every time grandma came into the kitchen, I always followed. I always look adoring when I look at those long noodles. Because whenever I see grandma cooking in the kitchen, the sound of the rolling pin when rolling the noodles and the instant sound of the noodles entering the water when the noodles are below have a sense of rhythm and rhythm, which makes me more and more fascinated by grandma's busy voice in the kitchen. So as soon as grandma enters the kitchen, a small figure will follow her like a follower.

Later, I followed my parents to Xi 'an because of school, and the traffic was full of prosperity. But when I first entered this city, I couldn't sleep. I was used to the serenity and leisure of the small county town. I was still a little scared and uneasy about the traffic passing by at night, so I couldn't sleep all night, and I even thought of my grandmother in my hometown. That kind of feeling is a kind of loneliness, panic and helplessness. In addition, in this mechanized and modern era, although the food in the city makes me feel dazzling, there is always a feeling missing. Now I think it should be the calm and mature in the field, and it is always not as delicious as grandma's pasta.

Perhaps this is the taste of my hometown, the taste of grandma's food, and the taste I remember. It is so simple, warm and beautiful ... The taste of my hometown. When I was a child, the campus was full of winter jasmine. Every March, the smell of spring girls awakened their seeds, so they pulled out light green stems and bloomed light yellow flowers, dotted among the green bushes like stars in the night sky.

Looking out of the window, I can always see the winter jasmine waving in the breeze with a smiling face, and my heart is full of love. So I raised my little head like a silver bell and asked the teacher, "Teacher, what kind of flower is this?" The teacher smiled, leaned down and said softly, "This is called winter jasmine. Where there is winter jasmine, there is a taste of hometown." I nodded and stared at the teacher's golden eyes reflected by the winter jasmine, leaving the winter jasmine in my heart and a vague impression of my hometown.

in the afternoon, I always like to fold a branch of winter jasmine and put it on the bed, quietly indulging in the fragrance of winter jasmine and falling asleep, so that the faint fragrance can walk through my dreams. In my dream, the boys and I were flying kites on the Dongjing River levee. There were lush trees, wet soil, bright sunshine and buildings springing up like mushrooms after rain along the long kite line.

In my spare time, I also love to watch the winter jasmine flowers on campus from the window, watching them crowded together and competing to open, just like us, holding high the banner of youth and jointing to grow. Day after day, year after year, we can hear the rustling sound of their efforts, and we can also hear the sound of reading. Accompanied by the winter jasmine, immature faces turn into mature faces, and naive children grow into sensible teenagers.

I once found this pale yellow winter jasmine in a place far away from my hometown. I bent down to pick it up, but I didn't have a cordial feeling, and I didn't have the taste of my familiar hometown. My heart became very empty, as if I had lost a beloved baby. Until I returned to my hometown, the missing part was filled by my childhood memories, which brought me a deep comfort, as long as my mother gave me a comfort when I was depressed.

I see, Winter jasmine grows in my hometown, in the promised land of my childhood. There, not only winter jasmine, but also hardworking people, busy streets and lanes, moist air and even every grass and tree have the flavor of hometown, because that's where I grew up. The flavor of hometown composition 5

No matter how far you go, there will always be a flavor calling you all the time, and that is the flavor of hometown. -Inscription

I spent most of my childhood in the countryside, which was far away from the hustle and bustle of the city and had plenty of freshness and nature. At that time, my favorite food was fragrant taro, a native product of my own.

in late August, the green figure like a lotus leaf has appeared in the field, and now its fruit is growing in the dark. At this time, you can take a small shovel to dig two taro to taste it. The fresh taste is endless, but if you want to eat the real delicious food, you have to wait.

by the end of September, grandma, who is familiar with the growth period of taro, had made good time to dig a basket of palm-sized taro and come back. The newly unearthed taro is brown and white, and it is grotesque. It turns out that the taro mother is surrounded by taro babies. When you break them, they are mostly oval, with brown "beards" all over their bodies, and many of them are still wrapped in a layer of wet soil. If you don't look carefully, you really think it is a small clod. Although it looks unremarkable, it tastes unique.

after washing and peeling, the white meat will stand out. Touch it gently with your hand, and the secret of delicious taste-stickiness, will be obvious. Putting it in water, adding a little oil and boiling it is the most common way. Of course, in an international metropolis, liquefied gas stoves may not burn such game. In grandma's house, the earthen stove can burn its most original taste. Put the useless straw into the stove to burn the fire. As the firewood goes out slowly, the fragrance in the kitchen will become stronger and stronger. Uncovering the lid, the white taro is almost transparent under the filtration of boiling water. They are constantly trembling with boiling water, and the tiny silver wires and sticky soup are secreted all over the body, which makes people's appetite big. Quickly put the hot fragrant taro into the plate. China's diet pays the most attention to color, smell and shape. It's not. Go to your own field to find two tender garlic leaves that have just grown, sweep them in warm boiling water, cut them into pieces, and sprinkle them on the already ripe taro. The green and white are alternating, just like the steep hills dotted with the green, which makes people salivate. This white and sweaty taro is the best reward for farmers who leave early and return late.

are you greedy? Then quickly pick up chopsticks and taste the delicious food on earth! However, the softness of the appearance of fragrant taro will make you feel at a loss, not just the outermost layer like mud; Is to push too hard and let taro slip through your chopsticks. However, grandma has a knack. Find the center of taro, poke it down with chopsticks, and you will get the delicious taro. When you take a bite, the fragrance is overflowing, and the entrance becomes a small grain that is more delicate than the bean paste, sticking together and lubricating like chocolate. Eating in the middle of taro, I have a little tenacity and a taste of chestnut. Open your mouth at the moment, and a little "silver silk" is still sticking to your teeth. One bite after another, the pure and authentic taro fragrance fills your mouth. The taste buds on the tip of your tongue are out of control, and it is delicious. Even if you breathe straight sometimes, you can't bear to let it go. The warm taste fills my stomach ...

Now, with the development of my hometown, the fragrant taro is also covered with "tall" But under that exquisite package, there is a fragrant sand taro with a strong local flavor that can never be concealed, and it will spread your warmth in time.

I think: No matter how far I go, how many mountains and rivers I have visited and how many cities I have visited in the future, there will always be the smell of fragrant sand and taro lingering around me, bringing me warmth and pulling my way home.