The taste of winter

Walking on the road by bike, I have felt my ears and mouth ache with cold in the cold wind. Passers-by, curled up their heads, wrapped themselves in heavy winter clothes, wearing hats, masks and scarves, showing only two eyes, spinning in the cold air.

I think it's best not to go out in this weather. But for living. Everyone has something they have to do.

Thinking, if you are in the country on a sunny morning, you can see first frost. Houses, fields and treetops should be covered with a thin layer. Like snow, it falls inadvertently; It is like a cloud, pulling out a little cotton wool and covering it on the ground.

When grandma is around, she often squints, smiles at her small vegetable garden and says to herself: The food after first frost is really delicious.

Now there are vegetables in the city, but most of them are grown in greenhouses. When it snows, the freezing is not bad. But it also lost the smell of frost.

It is difficult to find the winter in the city in memory.

Occasionally through an alley, someone is making a fire for the coal stove. The burning smell of broken wood makes my heart beat. The air began to fill with a long-lost familiar smell. In the early days in the country, there was a coal stove at home, where porridge was stewed and rolled. The smell of porridge is wrapped in the smell of charcoal stove and permeates the room. We children huddled together to keep warm and joke. Below the stove, there are several pairs of cotton shoes, which are baked very hot, and then put on, like stepping on a cotton pile, soft and warm, all over the body.

Now there is a heater, which is clean, safe and much more convenient. Well, it doesn't smell like that anymore.

In the past winter, I especially liked the taste of bask in the quilt. The quilt cover of that quilt needs to be sewn with crochet stitch by stitch. The quilt is usually a piece of coarse cloth that is a little yellow. The quilt cover is a colorful cotton cloth, which is much larger than the quilt cover. It should be folded from the bottom and sewn together with the quilt cover. Never, but I've seen a lot. My grandmother lived to be 90 years old (Meiwen.com.**), and I don't know how many quilts were sewn. We often play beside her when she sews the quilt. Will also lie on the quilt and greedily smell what we think smells good. After quilt cover became popular, grandma stopped using it. She said she was not used to it and was uncomfortable. She still insisted on sewing the quilt inside and out. She said it was comfortable to cover it.

However, it is really comfortable and obedient. I'm afraid children have never seen it.

That rough quilt seems to have a special smell. Maybe that piece of cloth was put under the bottom of a camphor wood box all the year round, and it was taken out to bask in the sun. The taste was unforgettable, and it was the taste of childhood.

In the past, there were no popular flower quilts, nine-hole quilts, wool quilts and duvets in our countryside, all of which were quilts. Although it is heavy, it is much softer after exposure to the sun. I went in at night, full of cotton fragrance, mixed with the smell of sunshine, faint, fell asleep in grandma's thoughts, one build did not build.

In the past winter, it seemed much colder than now. After it snows, there are always strings of ice bars hanging under the eaves. We call them clocks. At that time, we had no idea that it was cold. We will take off the bell and suck it with our mouths. It was cold, but we had a good laugh. I will also run to the place where there is snow, shovel a handful of snow with my hand and lick it with my tongue. I am so cold that I am shocked and scolded by adults. Our hands are as cold as carrots, but we are not. The mouth is hot and the face is happy. Now it snows less and melts faster. It is rare to encounter a snow, and I think I will be more excited than a child. I think people who like snow are not just pursuing romance, as people often say. In fact, it should be that there are more beautiful childhood memories hidden in the snowy days.

In the past winter, grandma would get up before dawn and rub dumplings for us. The flour was scalded with boiling water and stirred, giving off a particularly appetizing fragrance. Grandma is quietly and unhurriedly rubbing dumplings in front of the stove. The light in the room is not very bright, but there is a quiet warmth hanging over it. I like the way the mariko floats after boiling in a boiling pot. Snow white, fat head and brain, is very cute. Scoop one up and take a bite. Soft, sticky and fragrant. Sometimes, my grandmother likes to put this glutinous rice thread directly in a bowl and steam it in a pot. After steaming, it will be like batter, sprinkled with sugar and meat oil. We quickly picked it up and ate it loudly. The most delicious and warmest breakfast in winter is engraved in my memory.

Children are often told these things, and he listens with relish. Eyes are particularly bright. Shine like stars in the night sky. Beautiful and pure.

In fact, it is very common to think of it, but it seems so unusual after cooking for so many years. There is a hint of nostalgia.

Over time, you can make a good taste.