I love eating noodles, and I’m greedy if I don’t eat them for three days. I like it very much, and my mother also knows that I like it. Today, I went home and ate the braised noodles made by my mother, but I couldn’t taste what I used to taste. I couldn’t help thinking of some things in the past and the ridiculous and hateful era. Braised noodles was once my dream. When I was young, the land was very poor, and poor wheat could not grow well. After distributing the poor wheat, my mother grinded it over and over again with stone grinding, sifted it over and over again with sieve, and finally the flour was divided into refined flour, inner flour and Bran flour. The braised noodles made of refined flour are the most delicious. My mother is a master in making braised noodles. Unfortunately, this kind of craft can only show off on festivals or festivals, or if there are guests at home. For example, at that time, there was always a public teacher assigned by the village primary school, and the student’s home was responsible for cooking. When it was my turn to cook, my mother was very careful. One was for her own children, and the other was for the teacher to give more food stamps (this was what my mother told me later, is it too shameful?). My mother didn’t need any utensils to measure the noodles, and it was done as soon as she punched her eyes. After the noodles were made up, they were rubbed over and over again. The strength was great, and even the panels were creaking. Father said, don’t compensate a panel for eating noodles. Mother straightened her waist and said, eating noodles can make a person’s conscience, and it is soft and bulging, which means that the rolling pin is dishonest. There is no space in the noodles, the dried noodles can be strong, and the noodles can be slippery when they are eaten in the mouth. For braised noodles, noodles are the key, while braised noodles are the key. At that time, everything was expensive, even there was not much firewood burnt under the stove. But in order to make the most delicious bittern for the teacher, mother took out the pine needles that she was not willing to burn at ordinary times. This thing was so hot that it could boil the oil pan. When the oil in the pan made out cigarettes, my mother threw the chopped green onion and ginger into the pan and burst into a strong fragrance immediately, the villagers call it spray incense, which makes my brother and sister slobber. My mother poured a small ladle of water into it, and the pot was still creaking, and the scent of scallion was permeated in the air. After the water boiled, my mother poured the beaten eggs into the boiling water. Soon the yellow and white eggs and flowers floated, which made my brother and sister swallow their saliva. Sometimes, with more than a dozen pieces of pork cooked, it is more fragrant. Before coming out of the pot, my mother sprinkled a pinch of caraway again. The incense went straight to your nose. My mother always used the biggest bowl in the House to serve the teacher noodles, saying that if the noodles were served more, the marinated seeds could be put much longer, so that the teacher could eat well and you could learn well. The hateful thing is that if the teacher eats delicious food, I will be miserable. Every time the teacher came home for dinner and listened to the teacher drinking braised noodles in the next room, I thought that I would be a teacher and drink his three bowls in the future. One of my classmates is worse than me. His family always sends meals to the teacher’s office. Once, he was walking cautiously with the plate. A gust of wind came, and the food on the plate came out with strong fragrance. He couldn’t help swallowing saliva. He looked a little absent-minded. He accidentally stumbled and burst, A plate of food was lifted on the road. Alas, that ridiculous and hateful era. Sometimes, when the noodles were cooked too much, my mother added a large spoon of water to the rest, boiled it again, put some chopped cabbage leaves, and scooped up a large bowl for our brother and sister. I said, mom, do you want us to take off our trousers and fish them in the bowl? Mother smiled bitterly. If you can get what you want, be content. If your father hasn’t got what you want. Later, after the reform, the land seemed to be liberated. The wheat went crazy, and the output turned upside down. The happiest thing was my mother, who always hung happy flowers on her face: I didn’t expect to catch up with such an era, drinking noodles every day without worrying. My mother knows that I love eating noodles. Every weekend when I go home, I will surely find that my mother has already prepared for eating noodles at noon. Restaurants in the city always like to attract customers with authentic hand rolling noodles, but unfortunately, I have been eating outside for many years, but I have never tasted the smell of braised noodles made by my mother. Sometimes, I couldn’t help myself at home and tried to cook it by myself, but no matter how I did it, I couldn’t eat the smell of my mother’s braised noodles. Later, mother’s braised noodles became less and less delicious. My mother shed tears many times and sighed, “Oh, I’m old, I can’t adjust it, I can’t roll it, and I can’t adjust the smell. Once, when I didn’t go home for something, my mother called to say that the noodles had been prepared, why didn’t I come home? I heard my mother say before hanging up the phone: does my son dislike the noodles I cook? I felt sad in my heart. Today, although my mother rolled noodles with a noodle machine, I still ate three bowls. Looking up, I found my mother was holding a job and looking at me blankly: is it delicious? Delicious, so delicious, Mom, I like to eat noodles at home. Mother’s dull face burst into a bright smile.

Like (prose editor: Ke Er) the 30th year of my WeChat era

The year before last, my eunuch planned to buy a smartphone for him on his birthday. The main purpose was to teach them how to play WeChat, and let them…

Comments on the Chinese version of “worry-free grocery store”

Everyone moves towards a better life through his own efforts. The answer to the consultation letter is just encouraging an existing…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 14, 2018)

January 14, 2018: Today, the temperature in Wujiang is relatively warm, not as cold as a few days ago. Yesterday and Today, Wu Jiang’s…

Be a person who never stops growing up

Teacher Lily coughed with a strong nasal tone when she was in yoga class. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, she has less demonstration action today,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 13, 2018)

January 13, 2018: Yesterday, my sister and nephew Little David didn’t come to the Dongwan village of jinjiaba where my mother and I stayed temporarily,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 12, 2018)

January 12, 2018: The day before yesterday, I said, “my mother will go to Kunshan tomorrow.” However, yesterday, my mother did not go to Kunshan…

Posted in Dgaouyorf