When I was young and weak, my mother used a small soy sauce dish and steamed chopped lean minced meat every day to supplement my nutrition. And Mom and Dad, always eat only Home-grown vegetables.
When I was a child, I heard which fish pond in the village was going to be harvested and pumped for fish. I rushed over with a small bucket because I could feel the stone snails and small fish and shrimp abandoned by the pond owner, and I could eat my mother’s fried stone snails and fried small fish and shrimp at the dinner table.
As a child, I climbed every guava tree and longan tree in the village. The guava tree which white naan, which red naan, which crisp, which sweet, the door to feel the essence of a thief; longan which large core, which small core, which bland and tasteless, which sweet and juicy, know it by heart. This natural fruit self-help paradise, for me as a child, really heaven!
When I was a kid, I could squat next to the only oil refinery in the village and wait for the oil refinery brother from the same village to give us the leftover oil dregs after boiling the lard. You do not say, add a little bean paste, put the rice pot steamed, the aroma is overflowing, the taste is really good!
When I was a kid, I saw people eating portobello, I was craving it. So I went home and used my mother’s raw flour to make a paste, poured it into the little soy sauce dish and steamed it in the rice pot. When the rice was cooked, I took it out and wow! I’ll never forget the taste of that crisp, crunchy rice!
When I was a kid, I sat in front of the stove and watched the wood fire while the rice porridge simmered in the pot. When my dad came back with two green chickens, I clapped my hands and laughed, because a delicious congee was about to be born!
When I was young, I helped my mother to recycle the leeks that I had harvested all day, and when she received the money from the vegetable vendor, she gave me 50 cents as a reward. I bought a piece of horse cake from the village kiosk. I smelled it gently and bit into it, so happy!
When I turned around, I saw my mom smiling at me and asked, “Mom, why don’t you try it too?
Mom took a small, shallow bite. I saw that her eyes were red.
When I was a child, I followed my Parents to harvest the rice. The rice field was separated from the village by a river. The water wasn’t deep. You could see the sand and gravel at the bottom of the river. I sat in the concrete boat, my father paddled the Penny, and the water surface was flooded with water marks.
Suddenly, a fish jumped out of the water. I shouted with joy. Dad’s eyes were shining. He plunged his Penny into the mud and launched the boat to catch the fish.
It was a big, round carp. I can’t forget the mouth, the tail, and the scales that shone in the sun.
That night, there was a bowl full of carp roe steamed with ginger and scallions on the dinner table. Even the air was filled with the aroma. The sound of laughter filled the hut.
It turns out that what remains in the memory is always related to eating. Perhaps, Food, itself is the taste of Life.
I always knew that my Family was very poor, but I knew that as long as I was with my family, even the bitterness was sweet.
The days surrounded by affection, full and warm. The love of my parents gave that little me the happiness to be proud of the world!
To our departed childhood and our aging parents.
To our lost childhood and our aging parents. A small gesture full of kindness is enough to warm the heart.
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