Good memories about childhood - little hedgehog steamed buns
Let’s talk about the gluttonous stories I had when I was a kid—people say you look older at the age of three, and if you think about it carefully, it seems that there is some truth in it. Let’s just talk about me. I’ve loved to come up with all kinds of weird ways to make food since I was a child. Now that I’m nearly 40 years old, it seems that this hobby is still growing. Because I like it, I spend the whole day thinking about how to make all kinds of delicious food in a different way. As for home-cooked meals, it is a matter of course, and it becomes a handy thing. When I was little, my mother called me Greedy Cat! It can be seen that gluttony was also discovered in childhood. To this day, my mother occasionally teases me by telling stories about my gluttony as a child. It would not be like now. When we were children, we did not have too much homework and various extracurricular trainings and cram schools. It should be said that our childhood was free. A group of free-range children, as long as they finish their homework, the rest of the time is theirs to do whatever they want! When I get home from school, my parents can only ask: Have you finished your homework? Done! As soon as I threw my schoolbag away, I went crazy with my friends in the yard. When I was in the lower grades of elementary school, I played house, with others vying to be the bride and groom. I volunteered to be the cook every time, preparing all kinds of strange wedding banquets using all kinds of picked flowers, leaves, soil, and rotten bowls and tiles. Later, I don’t know when I became the king of the kids in the courtyard. One time, I actually stole the meat that my mother was preparing to pickle for the Chinese New Year. I led a group of friends to hide in the ditch behind the yard and light a fire to barbecue and eat. Later, the smoke spread into other people’s rooms. The family was scared that there was a fire somewhere. When they ran out and found us troublemakers, they dispersed us with curses. Later, the furious family even went to my mother and filed a severe complaint against me. For being charged with arson and stealing meat, I was actually punished to kneel in front of a drawing of Chairman Mao in the living room for two hours as a sign of repentance. When I was in elementary school, there was a game at the school gate to fool the children, where they would spin a turntable and decorate it with sugar flowers. If the turntable turned, the boss would decorate it with three or two strokes of syrup. I could only spin chickens, ducks, etc. every time, but I never had a chance to win the dragon or phoenix on the plate. Once, I almost turned to a dragon. My heart was pounding in my throat. At the last decisive moment, the pointer ruthlessly moved a little bit, and the result was still a chicken. When I got angry, I went home and poured a pound of my mother's sugar into the pot and melted it. I swore that I would mount something big like a sugar dragon. As a result, there was too much sugar and the fire was too strong and the pot was burnt... Although my mother finally cleaned up the mess and covered up the mess before she came home from get off work, her sensitive nose still noticed that something was wrong! When the Dong Chuang Incident happened, I didn’t get to eat Tang Hua’er, nor did I suffer any physical pain, but my mother almost made my ears sing. From then on, in order to prevent me from getting into trouble again, my mother gave me the order not to light fires and cook food at home without permission. Our kitchen slammed with a resolutely unwelcoming attitude and completely closed the door full of temptation to me. Speaking of my gluttony in childhood, the most representative ones are the two scars that still remain on my legs. They have followed me throughout my life, telling me all the time about the heavy price I paid for my gluttony during my growing up years. The one on the calf was burnt by the coal stove when I went to the kimchi jar to eat some oil and ginger made by my father on a hot summer day. The other bigger one on the thigh was also burned by the steam from the pressure cooker when I went to the kitchen to eat the taro beef stew that my father had just made. The two scars have completely imprinted the traces of the delicious food on me. They are so deep into my bones that I can’t even wash them off! In fact, whether it is about childhood, eating, or all kinds of other ridiculous and interesting things, in retrospect, the most rare thing is the childishness and childlike innocence. Looking back on the years, as people gradually grow up and mature, they gradually become rational and philistine, and they lose more and more of their innocence and childishness. This is the price you have to pay for growth. It's just that people can become mature and become stronger inside, but they don't need to lose all their innocence. Or maybe it's just the joy of seeing snowflakes flying all over the sky on a snowy day, or maybe it's just the faint remaining sadness and joy that is sealed in the memory after so many years, let it hide in a corner and accompany you silently. We have gone through everything, we have experienced it, and we will experience more... However, when we have tasted the feast of life, we will occasionally recall that era full of innocence, just like chewing a piece of tea carefully after a meal, the lingering fragrance between the lips and teeth will also spread to the heart...
Staple food
Pasta
