Flavor of love junior essay

Whether in study, work or life, everyone has written essays, surely familiar with all kinds of essays, with the help of essays people can realize the purpose of cultural exchange. I believe that writing essays is a headache for many people, the following is my collection of the flavor of love junior essay, welcome to read and collect.

The flavor of love junior essay 1

After school, the mother actually did not move her set of "nagging big theory", but just drive fast, I also leisurely, took the phone in playing WeChat.

Suddenly looked up and realized that this is not the way home, I was shocked. "This ...... where to go ah!" I asked curiously, mom laughed and said, "Drink tea." Drink tea? I fell, I did not see her research on tea ah!

To a small store next to the door of the university, mom said: "Your recent study task is relatively heavy, I heard that the ice chrysanthemum wolfberry tea here is particularly healthy, natural, and also very cheap, your little Auntie Miu (mom's colleague) gave me two coupons, so bring you to taste and see how it is."

Picked a seat by the window and sat down, I had nothing to do but look out the window. May sunshine bright and dazzling, illuminated the hall, but also warmed my heart, I glanced at my mother, is on the face of a smile playing with the phone, maybe again and which mother chatting addictive it. That smile, too, is bright like the sun.

A waiter with two porcelain cups, a pot of boiling water and two mesh bags came to us, I subconsciously stared at the porcelain cups, looking at the porcelain cups of two ice chrysanthemums, four or five bright red goji berries and a piece of dried lemon, ice chrysanthemums skinny, but the petals are flowing, but also very beautiful. The grooves on the surface of the goji berries look like the wrinkles on an old man's face, and I looked at them interestingly and shook them.

When the waiter injected boiling water, the scene was immediately different. Ice chrysanthemum because of the impact of the water, and spinning up, gently, slowly and softly stretched out its crystal white and soft petals, like a first dance of the girl, it is passionate and exuberant spinning, want to the body of all the nutrients stored in the water. Chinese wolfberry also slowly sank to the bottom of the water, swollen to like a goose egg so round, so lovely. Lemon after the water soaked, moist, plump, and it just in the tree when the fruit as fresh and tempting.

I looked dumbfounded, and my mom urged, "Drink it." I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it," she said. I wanted to say to her, "How annoying!" But the words came to my lips and then retracted, I patiently listened to her slowly talk about the wrong things I did when I was a child. I thought, I am the ice chrysanthemum, goji berry or lemon, after my mom's teaching, as if after boiling water soaked, stretch themselves and find themselves.

In my mother's repeated urging, I gently raised the cup, gently sip the golden clear liquid, the sweetness of the chrysanthemum plus the aroma of goji berries, but because of the lemon's tartness and distinctive, a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a mouthful of a heart.

In my mother's smile, I found that this tea has a flavor. The flavor of the tea is a taste that will make people happy and calm them down. That flavor is the flavor of love.

The flavor of love junior composition 2

Mother's love is like a bowl of hot noodles, giving us health, giving us nutrition. Mom is the chef of our family, the most skillful is "beef noodles", is also my favorite meal.

I remember one time after school, I came home, no one, but my stomach "rumbled". I said to myself: "Alas, why did not mom cook it? I'm starving." "Mom must have worked overtime again ......," I grumbled reluctantly. Mom is always like this, always come back later than me, think of other people's mothers, always at home to make a good meal waiting for their own children to go back ...... Thinking about this I think more and more angry, but there is no way to do it, so I have to go to write homework first.

After a while, I heard the sound of pushing the door, mom is back! "Tian sweet ......" I heard my mom calling me, but I didn't say anything. Mom walked into the house and saw me doing my homework: "Hungry? Children, really sorry, today I have something temporary to come back late, now go to make beef noodles for you to eat ...... "Mom said, while walking into the kitchen.

I sat at the table and looked at my mom's busy figure in the kitchen, and immediately felt that I did not do the right thing. Mom for us, early morning and late at night, work must be very tired, but back home not only to tutor my homework, but also to cook, but I do not know the heartache of her, thank her, but also complaining about her, really do not understand!

So I walked into the kitchen, "Mom, I'll help you cook!" "No, mom alone will do, you write homework!" "I finished my homework, let me help you well ......" I pouted.

Mom couldn't argue with me and had to agree.

Started cooking, I watched with great interest, waiting to help my mom. I saw my mother first cut the beef, with boiling water to remove the blood foam, and then put the frying pan hot, stir frying onion, ginger and star anise, dry chili, etc., into the freshly prepared beef, stir fry a few times over high heat, "ah, so fragrant ah, mom, you're really a cook able to do!" I watched my mom put in soy sauce, wine, and fill the frying pan with water, and start cooking over medium heat.

During the waiting time, I helped my mom to pound her back, and asked her to check my homework for me. Soon after the water boiled and rolled, my mom asked me to help her get a handful of hanging noodles, cooking noodles, and put a little sesame oil, chopped green onions. Great job. "Wow, it smells so good, it must be delicious." After it was done, I couldn't wait to taste it, "Wow, it's so delicious." This is the flavor of a mother's love, I tasted it, so happy! I served my mom a bowl of noodles first, at which time she said to me with a smile on her face, "My daughter has grown up." I was ashamed when I heard this ......

I'm still the same: I love my family's chef! I love my mom!

The Taste of Love Junior Composition 3

The taste of love is bitter.

People are not sages, who can not be fault? However, we are ordinary people can not help but make mistakes, leaving behind regrets, elementary school stage for me can be described as a muddle, daytime idleness, I do not love to listen to the math class, may be simply do not like the teacher, on his class God do not know where to be hooked to go? Classes do not listen to the class, the consequences of nature is to fail the test, mom learned, it will cause a beating, but mom bought a large stack of stacks of exercise books, a strong sea of problems, but not for long, as long as I'm a little lax, which problem can not be solved, it will be caused by a red mark.

At that time, I felt love like a cup of tea, very bitter and bitter ......

The flavor of love, very sweet.

stepped into the middle school stage, I began to know the importance of learning, so I want to go fast, often picking the night light, in every starry night, the lights of the house but went out, I can always hear the kitchen what movement and light footsteps, and then my door will be gently opened. Wow, no - that wasn't a paranormal event, it was the sound of my mom warming up milk for me, she turned the volume down and said, "Son, drink the milk so you can sleep a little." That back, a little bent; that voice, a little hoarse.

At this time, I think love is a jar of honey, very sweet and sweet ......

The flavor of love, very fragrant.

"I'm back!" "Quickly go wash your hands, the dishes will be ready soon" "Whoosh -" the sound of mom in the stir-fry overflowed the whole room, a pot of steaming rice neatly placed on the table. My favorite thing to drink is my mother's specialty - old fire soup. Every week, my mom would cook stewed pig's brain with tianma and chicken soup with Tianqi to replenish my body. "Not enough, not enough, another bowl, these soups are good for the body, especially for teenagers like you ......." I think this sentence is not unfamiliar to anyone, it all comes from the same person - mom.

At this time I think love is a bowl of soup, very thick and very thick ......

Mother's love, really omnipotent, a lot of changes, it plays a different role at different times, perhaps it is the hot sun under the examination room outside the eyes of that hope, perhaps it is a natural disaster for you to build a safe harbor, or perhaps it is to light up your The guiding light of the future ...... Our mothers are ordinary, but their love for us is never mediocre! Let us in the mother was silver frost covered hair roots, vicissitudes of the face before, well hold their hands, I think this is the most happy thing!

The flavor of love, sweet and fragrant, but can not avoid the bitter, the taste of mother's love is fickle, but I think the topic of mother's love - never change!

The taste of love junior essay 4

The taste of mother's love is like a bowl of tomato and egg noodles, sweet and sour, the taste of a long time around the heart, I can not forget my life. --Title

Since I was a child, I have loved to eat my mother's tomato and egg noodles, sweet and sour, smooth and delicious. Every bite, there is the flavor of love.

My mom loved to cook noodles for me. When I'm happy, she will wash, slice and peel the tomatoes, each slice of tomato is carved with a curved smiley face; when I'm sad, she will put more tomatoes especially. Sour noodles, sour soup, I eat, tears fall. At this time, my mom would hug me, and all my troubles would dissipate.

I remember when I was twelve years old, there was a monthly examination, I was very disappointed. When I got home, I locked myself in my room and had the urge to cry at the bright red crosses on my test paper.

It was my mom, who gently knocked on my door with a bowl of tomato and egg noodles with a warm aroma. I bowed my head, thinking that my mom would blame me. However, what I waited for was not a blame, not a complaint, but a gentle sentence from my mom, "Baby, come on, eat the noodles!" I raised my hazel tearful eyes, and in the tearful light, my mom's image was especially great. Her short sentence, like a bright torch, the dark sky in my heart, shining bright, bright.

I silently picked up the bowl of soup, fierce drink a mouthful of soup, want to put the heart of the distress and boredom all swallowed into the stomach. The sweet and sour soup with smooth noodles entered my mouth at once. I tasted the familiar flavor, and suddenly, I tasted a very, very strong flavor. It was love, which contained my mom's encouragement, and comfort to me.

There is a passage in Peter Pan that says, "Every mother, in every dish she makes for her child, adds a special seasoning, a seasoning that only a mother can configure, because this seasoning, is love."

A month later, I made good grades in the monthly examination, stepping on the joyful steps home. Pushing open the door of the house, I saw my mom who was busy in the smoke with her apron. As soon as she saw me coming home, my mom rushed to carefully scoop out a spoonful of noodles with a spoon and said to me with a smile, "Baby, come on, eat noodles!"

I took a taste. This time, I ate the flavor of love. However, this time, what I ate was no longer encouragement and comfort, but trust and pride!

Love tastes different, especially mother's love. Whenever my mom puts love down into tomato and egg noodles, I can taste it. Because the flavor of love contains encouragement, comfort, trust and pride! The flavor of my mother's love, accompanied me through the road of growth, accompanied me in the sky of my dreams to fly free!

Spring Festival dinner, always so sumptuous, usually difficult to taste the delicacies, in that day, but as commonplace dishes, was one end of the table, looking at a delicious in front of the eyes, but can not eat, but also is really an intolerable "torment". I've been salivating for a long time, both want to eat but do not dare to eat first, the thought of the warning of the adults, I had to flow out of the mouth again to suck back.

Perhaps some people will feel strange, why I do not dare to eat first, can not even sneak to eat a little bit of the 'courage is not? No, you're wrong, rather than not dare to eat first, but rather reluctant to eat first. Because the first to eat must be not to let people find out, then it is very likely that they will gulp down like a gulp. Maybe a moment on the tongue with pleasure, but that's just the surface flavor, the deeper flavor is not tasted. If you ask me, the deeper flavor is the deep love and affection of the elders hidden under the ingredients, and it is precisely because of this that there is a New Year's Eve dinner every year.

Taste the flavor of the dishes, that is the respect for the ingredients, eat the dishes can "drink water without forgetting to dig into the people", that is to taste the love between them, so I do not want to eat first, just afraid of losing the dishes in that piece of mind.

Furthermore, to take a step back, even if not taste the heart, that by the elders first chopsticks, but also the traditional virtues of Chinese culture, can not be destroyed.

Perhaps many people have not been involved in the production of New Year's Eve dinner, do not understand a meal down is not easy, but I have participated in a, although I did not participate in the whole process, can take a long time is also rare, although I did not participate in the whole process, but still feel very tired, which can not help but let me think of year after year, and can not help but cherish more and more in which the heart to.

Love is a big topic, a smile is love, a word of comfort is also love, help others is love, protect the country is also love, love is everywhere in life, it can be very big or very small, just as a meal is love, and this is also visible.

The flavor of the dish, perhaps not the best, but love in the middle of it, I think this is the world's most delicious!

The flavor of love junior essay 6

That day, the sky was clear, the gentle sunlight shone on my face for a while, and then shone on the trees, and finally jumped and fixed on my flower jacket ......

In the afternoon, my classmates and I met to go to the park to play together. Before leaving, my mom called me. I saw her run to the room and took out my flower jacket, put it on my shoulders and said to me with a smile, "Put it on and play, in case the weather gets cooler, it's better to be warmer."

I looked up at the sky, and without hesitation, I took the jacket off my body and put it back in my mom's hand, saying, "It's okay, the weather is so good, how can it change, and besides, it's not comfortable for me to wear it to play. Well, that's it, I'll go first."

Mom smiled helplessly.

I can imagine her watching with worry as my back disappeared around the corner of that intersection near my house.

I ran happily to the park where I had met my classmates, and just as we were getting into the swing of things, the sky suddenly clouded over. Shortly after, just a clear sky like a gray veil, dark clouds lower and lower, followed by the wind, the more blowing more and more big. Then the wind came, blowing harder and harder, and the rain came, falling more and more rapidly. My clothes were soon drenched by this unexpected storm, and I felt as cold as a small tree swaying in the wind and rain, and it became more and more difficult for me to stand. At this time, my mother's words came to mind, I really regret ah, did not listen to my mother's words, if then put on that piece of flower jacket is good.

But it was too late, the wind was blowing harder and harder, and the rain was falling harder and harder, and the drops were splashing on my face, and it was really cold! I couldn't help but shiver again.

I and my little friend quickly ran to the park under the pavilion, the leaves in front of me by the wind blowing rattling, falling leaves in the air fluttering, like a crazy butterfly.

I looked up at the dark sky, filled with grumbling, how the sky became so fast, when I left it was still clear, how to turn around in the blink of an eye on the dark clouds, pouring rain?

After a while, the rain fell less, I said hello to my classmates and rushed to home. When I ran to that intersection, I saw my mother, she was holding an umbrella in her hand with my piece of flower jacket waiting for me at the door, she looked anxiously, as if waiting for the return of the bird's nest.

As soon as she turned her head and saw me, she immediately ran over and put the jacket on my shivering body.

Looking at me, my mother's eyes were full of pain. She wiped the rain drops on my face, and I suddenly felt that my mom's hands were so cold. I could imagine how long my mom had been waiting for me outside.

With a sour nose, I jumped into my mom's arms, tears running down my cheeks and dripping onto the warm flower jacket. In an instant, I felt my mother's love for me, and tasted the flavor of love, which is not sweet or bitter, not sour or astringent, but a wonderful taste.