No matter in study, work or life, everyone will inevitably come into contact with composition. Composition is a verbal activity in which people express their feelings in written form. How to write an essay to avoid making mistakes? The following is an excellent composition about the taste of my hometown that I have carefully compiled. It is for reference only. I hope it can help everyone. Excellent Essay on the Taste of Hometown 1
No matter how far I travel, that bowl of hot handmade dumplings will always be my best interpretation of the taste of my hometown.
Inscriptions one by one
What is the taste of hometown? Some people say: "The smell of hometown is the alluring fragrance emanating from the corner." Others say: "The smell of hometown is the bursts of laughter from the neighbors." As far as I am concerned, the smell of hometown is that A bowl of hot dumplings.
When I was a child, whenever there was a holiday or a birthday, my mother would always get up very early and mix noodles, roll out dumpling wrappers, chop meat, and cut vegetables alone in the kitchen, making the tinkling sound. A harmonious symphony. Then mix in various condiments and stir into delicious dumpling fillings. Put the stuffing meat on the dumpling wrapper and use her dexterous hands to shape it into a nice-looking dumpling. Then put them into the boiling hot water and cook, and after a while, a plate of hot dumplings will be ready. When I was a child, this was my favorite and happiest time. I just felt that the process of warm dumplings from the mouth to the stomach was the happiest.
Later, I grew up and went to junior high school. There is also a dumpling seller in the school, but I always feel that something is missing. I still remember that my first monthly exam in seventh grade was unsatisfactory. I never dared to go home, so I wandered around on the road, but I finally got home. As soon as I walked into the house, I saw my mother's busy figure - she was cooking dumplings. Seeing me, my mother hurriedly said: "You go in first, and the dumplings will be ready in a while." I looked at my mother with a guilty look on her face, but she was already busy again. After a while, my mother brought the dumplings in and said, "Girl, eat it while it's hot, or it'll freeze." As she said that, she sat down and said, "It's okay if you didn't do well in the exam this time. I know you haven't adjusted your mentality yet. But you must try harder next time, you know?" I nodded, feeling a warmth flow into my heart along with the dumplings, and suddenly I understood why the dumplings in school were boring, because they lacked something called hometown. something.
Now, I can still occasionally eat a bowl of hot and delicious dumplings, and my concept of my hometown is becoming clearer and clearer. Eating dumplings made by my mother is still my best interpretation of the taste of my hometown. Excellent essay on the taste of hometown 2
Hometown is a warm harbor that can always evoke infinite memories in the heart, carrying childhood, friends, mountains and rivers... Let me talk about what is in my mind Come to Sichuan!
Scenery, there are countless famous scenery in Sichuan, such as Mount Emei and Mount Qingcheng. They can always give you a kind of majestic beauty. Every tree and stone shows their majestic appearance. But when you lower your head and look at the water, Jiuzhaigou Valley is another kind of quiet and beautiful scenery. Every mountain and water makes people want to see its splendor. In addition to these famous ones, when you are traveling, those terraced fields and small streams will make people linger. There are no tourists, only a few butterflies and birds flying by occasionally, and a whole world of their own. How can one not like such a colorful scene?
People in Sichuan can also bring people a kind of heroic and generous feeling. It is definitely a good place to relax alone. Don’t worry about being too lonely. There is always someone to chat with you, no matter it is The driver of the ride is also an aunt who is queuing up with you, which makes you feel that the whole city is alive and lively. When talking about chatting, we have to mention the Sichuan dialect. It is always given the name of magic. It bursts out with an indescribable boldness when it opens or closes. This is what I miss the most about Sichuan. Just open your mouth and speak. It can bring my soul back to the land of Sichuan and let me indulge in its unique charm. This is the unique "taste" of Sichuan.
Eat, Sichuan food is one of the best in China.
Spicy is definitely synonymous with it. The hotness of hot pot and the spiciness of various home-cooked dishes are things I couldn’t taste when I was in Beijing. Only when I get back home and taste the salty, spicy, fresh and fragrant food is the best. Makes me feel like I belong. The taste in your mouth is always so spicy, and the taste in your heart is always so sweet.
What is the taste of hometown? It is a plant, a tree, a mountain, a river, a word, a mouthful of food, every bit of daily life. Although what you see and hear is the most ordinary, it is this that gives you the memory and feeling of home. The taste of home. Excellent Essay on the Taste of Hometown 3
Day after day, year after year, in the blink of an eye, it has been six years since I left my hometown with my parents. "Oh, I haven't been home for many years!" Mom's sigh came from the house, and then waves of arguing sounded again, and it became quiet again after a while. Mom opened the door, with a contented expression on her joyful face. I knew something "good" must have happened again.
Mom bought three train tickets and prepared all the luggage. We boarded the train that arrived on time. After successfully finding our seats, we sat down happily. I took out a bag of snacks, " "Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," my mother looked like she was emotionless and angry. Although I was very tired after riding in the car for a day, when I got off the car and stepped onto this familiar land and looked around, I still saw the vibrant scene in my memory. The winding paths of the past are still so friendly and lovely today. Seeing that the appearance of my hometown has not changed at all, it seems to be an above-ground garden.
After arriving at my grandparents’ house, I hurried into the back garden. It was still full of spring, with cucumbers covered with vines, heavy persimmons bending my waist, and strong pepper seedlings hung with peppers. Just like Lu Xun's Herb Garden, "crickets, centipedes..., all kinds of animals, everything is available", but I have all kinds of vegetables, and there is that extraordinary air, a breath can make you refreshed, as if Entering a room full of orchids. There is also a big jujube tree here that I remember deeply. Looking at it, I vaguely saw me walking around it as a child. When I was sleepy, it shaded me from the sun and allowed me to sleep peacefully. When I was hungry, he would kindly give me two dates to fill my stomach. When it rained, he would stand there unwaveringly like a soldier. In short, "he" was the best thing in my childhood. Memories, looking at everything in front of me, my chaotic mood disappeared like clouds and flowing water.
The taste of hometown is an indescribable synonym. It is deeply engraved in the depths of my heart. There are laughter and tears, and it always makes people remember its beauty. Excellent Essay on the Taste of Hometown 4
The sky seemed to have been blown by a hurricane all night, so clean that there was not a single cloud, leaving only pure blue, arrogantly rendered above the head, as if an ink bottle had been accidentally knocked over. , blooming with countless strands of blue.
July is the hottest time in Beijing. The vines in the courtyard cast a large amount of shade. An old woman sat there, holding a cattail leaf fan in her hand while fanning the baby in her arms. , while listening to the lonely chirping of cicadas.
In the small courtyard house, the red walls, gray tiles, red-painted wooden doors, and children’s paper pinwheels outline the most subtle appearance of Beijing. The grass at the base of the wall, the bean juice shop on the corner, and the old man selling candied haws at the end of the alley. This is the original appearance of Beijing.
The kitten at the old lady’s feet moved, as if it jumped up to enjoy the cool air from the fan, but was kicked by the sleeping baby and rolled over on the ground. The little baby looked dissatisfied and his nose turned red in his sleep. The old lady smiled and said, "Good girl, good baby..." The cattail leaf fan also turned slightly to give the cat a little coolness. The little girl woke up and asked for some candied haws. The old lady had no choice but to smile and pass the candied haws on her hand to her.
This is home, home in Beijing. Its flavor has long been lingering in time, lingering in every corner of the alley.
Forbidden City, Forbidden City.
The bright yellow eaves have not lost their sharp color after hundreds of years of washing. Corner towers, city towers. How many people have watched and knelt here to pay respect to the country and set great ambitions to protect their homes and the country.
How many poets have written poems to enter the depths of the palace and explore its mysteries. How many soldiers are here ready to go, with toughness forged into armor. When they return, the ginkgo leaves all over the city will be greeted by the colors of the palace eaves on both sides of the avenue. The style and pride of the country are all found in this land and water.
Countless history, culture, and perseverance have accumulated in the long river of time. Every brick and tile, every person, every scene, every plant and tree hidden in Beijing is ruthless and moving at the same time.
Beijing, the capital of the country, is the taste of the country, the taste of home and the country. Warmth and solemnity are seamlessly blended. This is the taste of Beijing and the taste of hometown. Excellent essay on the taste of hometown 5
On the last day of summer vacation, I returned to my hometown with my parents. Although the countryside does not have the neon lights and high-rise buildings of the city, it has the most simple green, green trees, green water, green fields, and even the air is mixed with the smell of green.
When our car was driving on the narrow village road, it looked so uncoordinated, as if it had disturbed this peaceful green. I rolled down the window, looked around, and shouted to my dad from time to time: "Slow down, don't crush the peppers on the edge of the field." The peppers were small, some were fiery red, some were tender yellow, and some were tender yellow. Blue and white... each one is small and exquisite, so cute that people can't bear to touch it. When I turned around, I found another water chestnut pond full of white flowers. The green of the whole pond was crowded together, and the shining white flowers were actually a masterpiece of the sun intoxicating on this green. It was magnificent. , so beautiful. Every household's yard, fence, and wall corner are full of loofah vines. The green patches are full of golden flowers. The flowers exude a faint fragrance, which is refreshing. The loofah strips between the flowers and leaves look fresher, slimmer and greener. At the end of the trail, my grandpa and grandma were already waiting at the door of their home. I jumped out of the car and rushed towards them impatiently. Reunion after a long absence makes family ties particularly precious. It was almost dusk, and the aroma of food wafted from every house. I was not idle either. I helped my grandpa press water from the well, helped my grandma light the fire and cook, helped my dad carry the dining table into the courtyard, and rushed to set the dishes and chopsticks with my mom. I was very busy. Fragrant meals filled the table in the busy schedule. We sat around, talking and laughing. The laughter actually attracted a few white birds, which stopped on the reed tops outside the courtyard wall and looked at them. We looked around, but there was no intention of flying away at all. The jujube trees, pear trees, and ginkgo trees beside the courtyard wall, although already bent under the weight of the full fruits, swayed left and right with our laughter in the breeze, as if they could understand our happiness. The taste of hometown is not only a table of delicious meals, but also simple beauty and infinite happiness.
As night fell, I walked on the field ridge with gentle breeze, listening to the chirping of insects in the grass, looking at the rice fields under the moonlight, it was so soft and quiet, looking up at the boundless night sky, I had already It is densely covered with twinkling stars and shines brightly. Far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, such a wonderful and peaceful night filled my soul with relief and comfort. Excellent Taste of Hometown Essay 6
My hometown is Kunshan, a veritable water town in the south of the Yangtze River. The fertile land and rich products are her characteristics; the long history and excellent traditions are her wealth; the prosperous market and beautiful landscape are her business cards. However, it was her smell that attracted me the most.
One day last year, early in the morning, my father and I came to the Aozao Pavilion located in the south of Tinglin Park to taste this prestigious specialty of my hometown for the first time. Entering the restaurant, you can see tables filled with diners coming to taste. My father and I squeezed through the crowd with difficulty and found a seat to sit down. After ordering the pasta, we waited happily.
I saw that there were all kinds of people coming to eat noodles, including neatly dressed office workers, babbling children, and old people with gray hair... They gathered at a table and commented on the taste from time to time. Nodding in praise, chatting about household matters from time to time, and smiling at each other. This bowl of Aozao noodles seems to be a bridge, connecting the relationship between people. Because of the noodles, they are close, and because of the noodles, they know each other.
Finally, with a shout, our face came.
When the fragrant noodles were served, the porcelain bowl with blue and white prints was simple and elegant, large and deep. Only with this kind of bowl can you hold enough noodles and jiaotou. The noodles of Aozao noodles are thin and smooth, with a chewy texture when you take a bite. Aozao Noodles' Jiaotou is rich and delicious, including pork ribs, fried fish, braised pork, braised duck, beef, pickled vegetables and vegetarian dishes, and diners can mix and match as they please. Next, let’s talk about the noodle soup. This is the essence of Ozao noodles! The production of noodle soup is very particular and strict. First prepare fresh fish or the original juice made from big bones; then prepare red oil, which is the old oil used to fry the fish, so that the color remains brown; then prepare onions, ginger, garlic and other seasonings; finally, according to a certain order, Make the soup. The noodle soup at this time retains its true flavor and is full of deliciousness. Take a sip and it will be unforgettable.
After a while, the large noodles ordered by my father and I were all wiped out. I touched my round belly, licked my lips, and said with satisfaction, "Dad, we will come again next time." Dad looked at me, smiled and nodded.
The Aozao Noodles in my hometown, this taste of my hometown, makes me reminisce, let me remember it forever, and also make me feel proud and happy in my heart. I hope you and I can enjoy the taste of hometown. Excellent essay on the taste of hometown 7
There are many beautiful, exciting and unforgettable places in this world. But the taste of hometown is unique.
My hometown is Qingchuan County, Guangyuan, where the people and things have their own unique flavor.
I still remember the creek behind my house. It is an athlete who is always full of vitality. He will not stop for the colorful colors of spring, nor will he give in to the cold of winter. I smelled vitality in him.
The Jinniu Plaza in Qingchuan County is a place where our children linger. The golden bull statue in the square has resolutely become a playground in our eyes. The twelve zodiac statues in the center of the square also became our mounts, and sometimes we would lie lazily on it and bask in the sun. The poor wild dogs around the square have also become our playmates. When we find wild dogs, we sit on our mounts and use the pebbles and dirt in our hands to carry out long-range attacks. At this time, the wild dogs will fall into the wild with their tails between their legs. When we ran away, we laughed in unison. I could smell happiness from the children playing in the square.
Ginkgo trees have also become a beautiful scenery in Qingchuan County. A row of ginkgo trees will be planted along the street. Under the swaying of the wind, they send their branches and leaves to passers-by; under the beating of the rain, they Give umbrellas to passers-by; give coolness to passers-by under the scorching sun; give warmth to passers-by under the coldness of winter. I smell the smell of caring for others from the ginkgo tree.
There is a large flowerbed in Mingxin Square with many beautiful flowers. In it is a "king of flowers" - a brightly colored rose, which shows its beauty under the swaying breeze. Unique charm, like a beautiful girl dancing in the air.
The sky here is blue, the ground is green, and the air is fresh. The flowers smell like flowers, the leaves smell like leaves, and the people there are all happy. I love my hometown, which is a kind of instinctive care and love. I hope that my hometown will be built more beautiful and maintain its own unique taste! Excellent essay on the taste of hometown 8
Last year, I I traveled to Shanghai and my family asked me to share my thoughts on the trip, but I talked about the food.
After running long distances and looking at the buildings outside the window, I couldn’t help but think about my hometown and felt a little shabby. When I arrived at the hotel, I got off the car, ran all the way to the door of the room, clocked in, pulled the door handle, fell on the bed and fell asleep.
The next morning, I opened the curtains and the sunlight spread like a golden net into the house. My roommates put their hands on their faces feebly and complained to me one after another. They raised their heads, slowly pulled out the pillows under their heads, and threw them towards me with all their strength. I all dodged them, but they turned their bodies over and continued to sleep until the tour guide picked them up one by one. cried.
When they went down the stairs, their heads were still hanging down, one hand was holding on to the handrail, the other was on their legs, and their feet were raised less than two centimeters high, like walking zombies. When I came out of the hotel, the summer soil wafted over with the smell of green grass. I sniffed hard. Why did this smell seem familiar? A small stall appeared at the door. The stall owner took out a small tent and propped it up to block the sun. He also pulled out a bench from a car nearby, bent down and placed it on the ground. What were they selling?
After getting on the bus and looking down from a high place, I realized that it was a stall selling meatballs. A strange thought suddenly came to my mind: I don’t know if the food in my hometown is better or the food here is better. . When we arrived at the scenic spot, everything was left behind. We boarded a yacht on the Huangpu River and enjoyed the beautiful Shanghai at night. All the buildings were outlined by colorful curves. When I returned to the hotel again, the boss had disappeared. I was thinking about everything about the boss, meatballs, and relatives.
On the third day, the boss set up a stall there again. After counting the days, it was time to go home. Before getting on the bus, I ran to the stall, bought some, and started my journey home.
Thank you to the motherland, because the motherland’s economic development allows me to experience the taste of my hometown even in distant places. I give my thumbs up to the motherland! Excellent essay on the taste of hometown 9
The ancestors said: "To understand a place, you must first understand the taste of the place."
——Inscription
We Everyone comes from different places and may not have been in our hometown when we were born, but we still believe in the unique "taste" of our hometown.
Every Spring Festival, I go back to my hometown with my mother, and this time is no exception. After a few hours, we finally arrived. As soon as I entered the door, I smelled the smell of grandpa cooking. I couldn't wait to run into the kitchen and saw rows of hand-made dishes on the cutting board. Grandpa said: "You have come all the way here, and it has been such a long journey, so don't get cold! Let's warm your stomach with a bowl of red oil!"
I sat at the table obediently and waited for my grandpa to cook. Okay, after a while, a hot smell of red oil flew into my nose, "Ah, it smells so good!" I sighed. Grandpa served it, and I looked at it carefully. It was nothing special. There were a few white lumps floating in the bowl of red soup, but when I picked it up and smelled it, it smelled of meat and chili. The pungent smell, and when I bit into the thin white coating, all the fine skin and tender meat inside reached my mouth. One bite, two bites, three bites...I can't stop! In the blink of an eye, I devoured a bowl of Chaoshou without leaving any trace. Look at the soup again. There is red in the black, and yellow in the red. "GuluGulu" was also cleaned up by me! But I still have more to say.
Before returning to Beijing, I asked my grandpa to make a bowl, but he said: "If you eat enough once, you won't want to eat it again next time. When you come back next time, I will make it for you again!" For so many years, I have been eating zao shou everywhere, but I found that no matter which zao shou it comes from, it can't shake the number one position in my heart.
Compared to the Dragon Boat Festival when the rice dumpling leaves are fragrant, the Lantern Festival when the streets are filled with lanterns, and the Mid-Autumn Festival when the moon is round and big, I love the Spring Festival, not because of its many customs, nor because of its many New Year's money, but because during the Spring Festival, I can eat the red oil noodles made by my grandpa, because it is made by my grandpa, and it reminds me of the taste of my hometown! Excellent Essay on the Taste of Hometown 10
Maybe it’s because the weather is hot and my appetite is weak, and I feel lazy and tired all over, feeling bored. Suddenly one day, I missed the moldy tofu in my hometown very much. It felt fragrant, sweet, spicy, and sour.
Thinking of the moldy tofu in my hometown, it struck an old ailment in my heart again. A faint blush ran along the apex of my heart and into my chest and into my throat, turning into gurgling streams of water gushing out from the corners of my eyes! My mother who died young due to illness, her peaceful and frail gentle look has long been imprinted in the depths of my heart like a knife. On the windy path of my life, she kept looking, stopping, greeting and waving. ! Until I fall and then get up bravely! Knowing that I am calm and full of smiles, I continue to move forward...
I was born in a peaceful and secluded southern mountain village with many brothers and sisters in my family. I remember that in February and March every year, the mountains and fields are full of vitality, the trees are sprouting and branching, and they are green and attractive. The flowers are so colorful and adorable. The most important thing is the cuckoo singing day and night, conveying love tactfully. And that sea of ??golden rapeseed flowers! Like dreams, like singing; like hope, like mother. The strands of lingering condensate the desire and emotion of life, and the vigorous and enthusiastic openness shines brightly on every happy tomorrow! The molded tofu made by my mother has a moderate flavor, spicy and delicious. The simple production process is filled with her deep love and warmth for us. A small piece of moldy tofu can make me finish a big bowl of rice beautifully.
At this time, I held the teacup in my hand, drinking the fresh and slightly sour lemon tea, and beautifully recalled the breakfast, when I drank two bowls of clear porridge with a few simple side dishes. Being in a foreign place, the moldy tofu from my hometown is unlikely to satisfy my appetite for the time being. Even if you buy it, it won't be the original taste of your mother or hometown. I can only buy Guanghe fermented bean curd nearby to quench my thirst. Although it is not as good as the flavor of my hometown, I can always find a little bit of the origins and connections of the same family and clan; "Why do we have to know each other when we meet, we are both from the end of the world!" The "taste" of finding fragrance in the wind and enjoying the hardships, the taste of hometown that is deeply treasured and fragrant for a long time. In that taste, there is mother's love and father's hard work.
The taste of hometown, the taste of mother, the taste of warmth and love!