The taste in memory may be the taste of the delicious food made by my mother, or the taste of the first time I made a meal, or the taste of a herb in my hometown in my childhood. In my memory, the taste of memory is the taste of childhood. Here we share with you some descriptions of the flavor of memory Essay 800 words, I hope it will help you.
Describing the flavor of memory Essay 800 words1
Push open the ancient half-waisted door of Grandma's yard, only to see Grandma sitting on the threshold of the dark, she squinted her eyes, peeled the hairy bean curd, and struggled to break it open with a thumb full of calluses. Looking at the hairy bean curd in my grandmother's hand, memories flooded back ......
In my childhood, I always sat next to my grandmother, watching her peel the hairy bean curd and listening to her sing Beijing opera. Grandma's little bamboo chair also babbled along, she rolled up her pant legs high, her shoes full of mud stained by the fields after the rain. When she finished peeling the string beans, she would excitedly slap her thighs and say, "I've finished peeling the string beans, I'll steam them for you!" After saying this, she also hooked up her rough index finger to scrape my nose, and I would sit on the bench and wait to eat the boiled bean curd with great excitement.
"Okay!" Grandma carried the bowl of cooked beans on the table, the bowl of hot air rushed to meet me, I took a deep breath, and then I could not wait to peel and eat. A small hairy bean in my eyes, it was incredibly delicious! That colorful candy, easy to melt ice, silky chocolate can not compare to it, the moment I bit into the beans, the sweetness of the beans in my mouth stretched, full of flavor.
The flavor of the beans has been integrated into the heart. At that moment, all the worries will float away in this wind. Grandma looked at me, there was love in her eyes that I couldn't read at that time, the corners of her mouth grinned slightly, reached out her dry hand and touched my head, murmuring that if you like to eat it, it's good, if you like to eat it, it's good. I tilted my head, only to see her head full of white hair in this wind slightly trembling, that is the most beautiful scenery I have seen in my childhood ......
I do not know how long I stood outside the door before I came back to my senses, sitting on the threshold of the grandmother is still like before that sings the Beijing opera, the small bamboo chairs are also like before that squeaked and squeaked to accompany the song. Grandma's singing suddenly stopped, she turned around with great effort, looked at me suspiciously, confused for a while, before smiling and saying: "Little girl, lost? Come and sit at my house for a while. By the way, I just peeled the hairy bean curd, do you want to eat it. My granddaughter cute ate it." I smiled and nodded. Grandma is already old, her memory has been taken away by the years, her impression of the granddaughter has grown up, just still love to eat her steamed hairy bean curd.
Looking at her head full of white hair, I realized that Mao Doujiao ah, you carry the warmth of my childhood, carrying that grandmother's flavor. And grandmother's memory, did not disappear, just dense in this yard full of hairy bean curd aroma ......
Description of the memory of the flavor of the essay 800 words 2
Memory of the snow is flavored, the memory of the sky is blue, the memory of the ants are swarming, the memory of people is laughter, the content of human memory is limited, can remember are good, selective amnesia will live more easily.
We found that the memory of the five senses, the most sensitive sense of taste, followed by the nose, tasted the delicious never forget.
The flavor I miss is called soymilk, and when I was a kid, my life was just like the song: "Getting up early in the morning at the train station, the long street was filled with no pedestrians, and the little store selling soymilk was steaming." During the time I lived in the train station, I had to run from the north to the west of the city to go to school, and the food I ate in the morning would be digested by the time I got to school. Whenever that happened, the hot, steaming breakfast store in front of the school became my lifelong dream, and the smell of soybean milk, sometimes thick and sometimes faint in the heat, hit my nose and reached all the way to the sky, and I knew I had to try it. I let my mother send me to school many times early, in order to beg her to buy me a cup of soybean milk, but the request many times to no avail, my mother had to buy a soybean milk machine, every morning to beat the soybean milk, but I can not smell the soybean milk with the smell of the hot air, the heart is still attached to the school door that, so the unprecedented walk on their own, and practically experience the beauty of the dawn, the fast to the school around the corner, and then saw that the group of fairy gas entangled in the breakfast parlor, walk! Early, even breakfast did not eat I hurriedly went in, turned out I saved two days of two dollars, said in full voice: "A bowl of soybean milk." The same full of breath: "Okay!" That day, I drank is not the most delicious time, the reason is that the home of the soybean milk is tasteless, add a lot of sugar to drink, in the store a small bowl of soybean milk, I added three spoons of sugar, the result is sweet to snore. Later, my mother finally took me into that store, a bowl of soy milk and a spoonful of sugar, really good, in the mist themselves sublimated. Mother was defeated and said, "It does taste better than ours." Later, when I was in the upper grades, my parents got busy, and I walked to school by myself, relying on the breakfast place to supply me with breakfast many times, and the owner got to know me well before I realized the secret of soy milk. Soymilk in the morning by the boss up at three o'clock to build a fire, the boss's wife put the beans in the pot grinding, simmering for two hours to do, we drank the upper layer of soybean milk, the lower layer of the soybean paste over the out by the boss's wife point pulp made of tofu dregs of their own to eat, I immediately felt the bowl of soybean milk is better to drink.
I drank from second grade to sixth grade, went to junior high school does not go that way, I no longer see the fog rising breakfast store, my mother idled at home suddenly also have to simmer a pot, the process is right, but can not drink the flavor of those four years, I think, there simmering should be the boss and the boss's wife is responsible for the taste of it. They moved to a place closer to my previous home, my home is moving further and further away, from the nose straight to the sky, the feeling of more and more faded, but the flavor is extremely sensitive, my tastebuds are only sensitive to it, fortunately, the boss did not close the store, otherwise I have a knot in my heart, when the pressure is high, go and look and taste it.
Description of the flavor of memory essay 800 words 3
Sweet sunshine, through the green lotus piece, little by little, just like that fine, gently sprinkled on my cheeks. I wiped the corners of my mouth, looked at the small bowl in front of me, and touched my small rounded belly, looked at the sweet sun, and smiled lightly.
If you want to leave yourself a side of the shallow, what should I leave? The first thing I want to do is to make sure that I have a good understanding of what I'm doing and how I'm doing it.
When I first met you, it seemed to be a morning wake up from a dream, with a newborn, throbbing heart, as always, I jumped out of bed, the face did not care about washing, and flew to the table following the scent. Parents on the side of the angry this love of my bed-ridden "piggy", I just looked at the bowl of soup with an attractive luster slightly light orange, do not care about other things, a scoop with a spoon, you see the broth under the almonds and cashews, a mouthful of my mouth, crunchy, soft and fragrant, and then a spoonful of the bowl is filled with white lamb and golden orange peel, glutinous nourishing, bitter in the The bowl was filled with white mutton and golden orange peel, glutinous, bitter with a sweet flavor, mmmm! This seems to be the dream of that fascinating flavor, right. As the food enters the mouth and flows into the stomach, there is a slow stream of joy and warmth that flows into the heart. Dad is asking mom for advice, but mom is back to her "light heat, light stew." A kind of profound words, but I do not have time to care, only care about this bowl of delicious in front of me. Quietly wandering in the middle of it, shuttle ...... have you, then peace of mind.
Tasting with you, pungent overflow. Mom and Dad to travel out on vacation, but I was thrown in the grandparents' home because of the study, you go out the day, I jumped home, open the door not see parents, but the face of the amiable and kind grandparents. On the table, there was a bowl of lamb soup with almonds. I just remembered that my parents left, I took a sip, is the mother's handiwork, full of moving, and gulp up, I feel, that time, there is something cold, from my face, splashed into the miles, reluctance and bitterness intertwined in the heart, but at least there is this bowl of soup, there you, then peace of mind.
The reunion with you is full of happiness. The setting sun dyed half of the sky, also dyed wet with white clouds, as always, ran back to grandma and grandpa's house, opened the door and found grandma and grandpa sitting at the table, as well as dad, mother in the kitchen, "I'm back!" She turned back, a smile, I can feel, the surrounding air, really sweet, seems to smell a burst of pear blossom fragrance, and finally drank your share of the good belonging to the memory, that familiar warmth re-woven in the heart. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it.
In the years to come, I drank this bowl of soup countless times, all familiar flavor, and all different feelings and warmth.
Because you have this soup in, countless times to give me strength, give me warmth, so never despair.
Now, I have a bowl of soup, looking at the sweet sun, I lightly apathetic bite, will smile, quietly embrace the flavor of this belongs to the memory, have you, then peace of mind.
Description of the flavor of memory essay 800 words 4
There is a dish called "Memory", you can hear, can taste, can do?
"Memories" of a hundred states from the heart, the work can be complicated or simple, the ingredients can be expensive or cheap, time can be long or short, but all evocative.
Choose a small ginseng - white radish wash away the mud and dirt, remove the bitter skin, cut the rectangular strip, the thickness of which depends on the control of the experienced old man, thin is tasteless, thick is the taste of heavy loss of its original flavor. The radish strip spread in the sun under the sun for a number of days to remove the bitter water, and then put into the secret soup sealed for a few days, waiting for the "memory" of the person to return to taste.
The lonely figure looked at the place where the sun was setting, when the last ray of sunshine disappeared in the sky, I finally appeared in the old man's field of vision from the school back. Under the dim light, the small kitchen was warm, I chewed my grandmother's pickles with a contented face, less of the flavor of soy sauce made by my mother, less of the flavor of the packaging, less of the salty taste of the bulk in the bazaar, and more of the radish itself slightly bitter, chewing and crunchy, the crisp sound like a solo piece of an instrument.
When my chopsticks bypassed the plate of green Chrysanthemum, reached out to the bowl of gray radish strips, "snap" grandmother's chopsticks pressed down my chopsticks, "eat less savory, eat more green vegetables". I stared at grandma with an aggrieved face and begged for forgiveness with my eyes, but grandma was too strong to be fooled. "One bite of pickles, one bite of greens, okay?" I begged, starting to bargain. Grandma's expression is a little relaxed, I hurriedly picked up a chopstick green vegetables, but in a flash picked up more salted radish, secretly laughing at the "trick" succeeded.
Grandma read to herself: "You are always so skinny, obviously a mouthful of vegetables and a mouthful of salted vegetables, but always clip two or three vegetables, clip a mouthful of salted vegetables." I chewed the pickles, the bitterness of the radish filled the tip of the tongue, but the warmth spread in the heart.
Memories of the winter, the sun comes out a lot of time, and now is not the same, from the grandmother began to make radish strips on the joy of jumping, ask this and that. When the turnip sticks were lying lazily in the sun, I was also lazily lying on my grandmother's lap listening to all kinds of endless strange stories.
When the radish sticks were stuffed into the jar, I began to wait anxiously, asking my grandmother, "Can we eat now?" until she took out another square of deliciousness, and then I forgot about them.
The grandmother at that time was not the same as now, the mood at that time was not the same as now, but the familiar flavor did not change.
When I hugged the heavy glass bottle to say goodbye to my grandmother, looking at the gradually away until the blurred disappearance of the silhouette of the heart, I only hope that everything has changed, the people in the good. I wish the most important person in my life, peace and health.
Description of the flavor of memory essay 800 words 5
The light wind at dawn, the big banyan tree's fallen leaves with the breeze to send, the leaf veins in the shower of sunlight now and then, elegantly spinning its dance. This moment, for this it, is happy; this moment, for me, is also pleasant. Memory, also with the leaves slowly floating in my heart, exuding that unforgettable flavor.
Hometown, in my memory is simple. Whenever the sun rises slowly from the east, people will start a day of life, the street traffic, although busy, but in front of the scene of all the recovery of all things seem so peaceful. Breakfast store in the beginning of this silence quietly rising smoke, the kitchen emits a white fog like a white fan is unfolding, covering the dazzling morning light. This is the most usual beginning of the hometown, but also the first taste of the hometown.
As the traffic lights continue to alternate, people began to open their hazy eyes, accompanied by a burst of birds and cicadas, breakfast stores and restaurants have opened for business, the old people are out for a walk, the children followed their grandparents in the street play cheerfully, seems to be around the still sleeping all drive up, strolling in the fragrance of the grass, na?vely believe that the sun is due to their screams of joy. The bus station is also getting busy. The bus station also began to busy, with the sound of the ebb and flow of the steam valve echoing the rhythm of the people, the lights inside the station is also lit, the morning sunlight shines in, and the light is also mixed together. At this time, the hometown has another scene: the external traffic is noisy, like a noisy army, but into the streets and alleys of the hometown, for some reason, this army is like a leader's instructions, quiet and orderly, this noisy everything, are submerged in the harmony of the hometown.
Memory, is beautiful, but sadly, he is a child who loves to joke, always love to play hide-and-seek with you; he is also a thief, slowly stealing and playing with your soul, waiting for you to catch him. If you talk about it as the flavor of memory, it is sour and sweet, deep in the mind but also in the layers of fog in the hidden.
Another memory of home is bitter. That's one of the things that bothered me the most. People's lives are getting better and better, more and more cars, the traffic is no longer as smooth as before, the streets are densely covered with "ants", the hometown of the quiet like a sleeping child, woke up by the outside world's scratches, and found himself alone and helpless fear, will be in the "anthill" in the "anthill" in the wail.
Describe the flavor of memory essay 800 words 6
Most of my childhood was spent in the countryside. There is a path in my memory, on one side of which is the gently flowing Yongxin River, with bushes along the river; on the other side are verdant green fields, where the farmers would plant different vegetables and fruits in different seasons.
As far as I can remember, this road leads to the village's big playground, which was actually a place for villagers to play sports and relax. During vacation, you can also watch a play here. The chairs were already placed in the theater, and Grandpa would go early to take his place. In the evening, after dinner, my grandmother and I would go along this road to watch the theater, and we could hear the sound of gongs and drums from afar.
As we approached, the playground was already crowded. We traveled through the sea of people and finally found seats.
In the back of the stage, there are all kinds of stalls: selling ice cream, selling scallion pancakes, selling kebabs, and selling ice candy gourds ...... For me, watching the theater is only my "side business", eating snacks is my "The main business is to eat snacks.
Hot summer, selling ice cream uncle pushed the ice cream car everywhere, I hurried up to buy a cone. Just see the uncle with a spoon to the bucket gently scoop, spoon immediately there is a rounded "snowball". I took it over and licked it, and it tasted better than Argentus!
The theater place also sells scallion pancakes, the smell from time to time emitted. Just see the uncle picked up a dough, with a clap of the hand, and then rolled flat with a rolling pin, sprinkle some green onions, and then a hand to send into the pie tube, about two or three minutes after the scallion pancake do is ready. A lot of customers smell the fragrance and come.
Sell sugar gourd place is always surrounded by children, their eyes staring at the crystal clear sugar gourd. I am no exception, take a string in the hand, gently bite, bite off the outside of the sugar shell, and then bite the inside of the hawthorn, sour, one bite. I would often eat it while watching the show, and my grandmother always laughed and said I was a snacker.
The wildflowers on the roadside are still swaying in the wind, and the wisps of smoke rising from the roof disappeared into the azure sky, while the flavor of the memory will always linger in my heart.
Description of the flavor of memory essay 800 words7
I have a lot to say about the flavor of memory. The watermelon held in my hands on summer nights, the aroma of oranges left under the fingernails in late fall, the sweet potatoes in that oven in winter, they are always present in my memory, are not coming out to remind me of them, to evoke my long memories.
Memory of the summer night watermelon is dad went to the countryside relatives pick back to the watermelon, mom to its cut into two halves, mom and dad with a spoon to scoop up half, I use to scoop up half. The three of us sat on the rooftop, looking at the sky full of stars, eating watermelon held in the hand, the watermelon's fragrance also filled all the memories of the summer night, became my only clue to recall the summer.
The memory of the orange is not the only late fall, only the late autumn orange aroma residue in the fingernail crevice, so that I recall the late fall, always think of the flavor of the orange, think of the countryside relatives that a few orange trees, think of the orange tree under the orange picking me and my sister.
Memory of winter is filled with the aroma of baked sweet potatoes, the aroma is not the streets and alleys, it singles out a small store specializing in baked sweet potatoes, but the aroma of baked sweet potatoes, and then diffuse to all my winter diary Memory, so that I have sweet potatoes every winter with sweet potato sweetness, so that people just think of it has a baked sweet potatoes warmed into the heart of the sweet.
And the memory of the taste of spring, all the flavor of the good-looking plants, they have not been eaten into my stomach has been, but always exist in my mind. Sometimes when I see the beautiful plants on the side of the road, I will instantly return to the spring, back to the beauty of March, back to the time when I stood in the sunshine and basked in the sunshine, think of it is also interesting.
The smells of my memories are usually my password to the past, and I can go back to the past just by thinking of these smells.
Describe the flavors in the memory essay 800 words 8
There are many flavors in the memory, not just one, there are sweet, bitter and spicy.
First, let's talk about the sweet, every day my breakfast is carefully prepared by my mother, I got up, washed up and came to the dining room. At this time, my mother has already set the breakfast on the table one by one, has been waiting for me to come. When I eat the sweet buns, taste buds are sweet, the heart is also sweet.
I can't remember how long this sweet flavor has existed in my heart, I only know that it has been long enough to become the most beautiful flavor in my memory. That sweet flavor has been sweet in my heart.
The flavor of memory and bitter, that kind of bitter is, because of my naughty and lead to cold, and then eat the medicine after the kind of bitter. I still remember clearly, remember that day I was drowsy lying in bed, and then grandmother brought a bowl of boiled medicine. I could smell the bitter flavor of the medicine from a distance. At that time, I naturally refused to drink it, but I still took a sip under my grandmother's patient persuasion. The medicine that was in my mouth, I didn't have time to drink it yet, but that bitter flavor was already spreading rapidly in my mouth. This first mouthful of medicine was naturally spat out on the floor by me. Luckily, Grandma stuffed in a candied fruit in my mouth in time.
How many years have passed, but that day, when I drank all the medicine after the bitter taste, until now, will feel from time to time. But also from that time onwards, I paid extra attention to my body.
Speaking of the memory of spicy, it is also a very interesting thing. That day, the family got a nest of hot pot. The hot pot soup is put a lot of chili peppers, chili peppers spicy spicy our whole family are constantly in the breath. But this kind of spiciness is very addictive. That day, our family drank a lot of water because of the spiciness. Our stomachs were bulging, and our family was huffing and puffing as we kept saying that we couldn't eat such spicy chili next time.
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