The flavor of the year in the hometown essay

Whether you are in school or entering society, when it comes to essay writing, we must not be unfamiliar with it, writing essays is an important means of cultivating people's observation, association, imagination, thinking and memory. What kind of an essay can be called an excellent essay? The following is my carefully organized hometown of the taste of the year essay, I hope it can help you.

The taste of New Year in the hometown essay 1

Staying in the city for a long time, people are either caught up in the busy fast-paced life, or lost in the fun and romance of the Western festivals, but the New Year is still the most expected holiday ......

Every New Year's Eve, I will go back to my ancestral home for the New Year's Eve from a long way away, although it is not a rural area, but the taste of New Year's Eve The first time I saw this, it was a very good time for me to go back to my ancestral home. The year twenty-nine, the streets have long been hung with lanterns, from the people of the thick voice of the countryside, I heard the harmony and tranquility and the joy of the New Year.

Thirty this day is lively, early in the morning was called up by his parents, to visit relatives, mutual New Year. After lunch, you have to follow your grandfather to put up couplets. From the front door to the warehouse, from the interior to the opposite door, all the red color, which is not seen in the big city.

The midnight meal is very lively. First of all, people have to invite their deceased elders home for the New Year's Eve dinner, with wine and tea and bowing. After the ceremony, dumplings are served. Everyone scrambles for the lucky dumplings with coins wrapped around them - the first one to get one is considered lucky for the year, and everyone who gets one after that gloats and wishes each other well. New Year's dumplings smell in the air ......

New Year's bells ringing, suddenly downstairs, outside the window, the roadside ...... people set off deafening firecrackers, brilliant colorful flowers. Walking in the street, adults, children are all happy, the air added a strong smell of gunpowder, the breath of the year spread in the air ......

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, in accordance with the rules of the countryside is to go to the ancestral tomb. I went with my grandfather's family to the old grandfather and grandmother's grave, which is really down to the countryside ah!

The people in this village are like a family, out of the old friends back to their hometowns to see can talk for half a day. On the way, I saw a family posted a couplet written with a real brush, thick and favorable brush, as if each hair has left a mark, which is really incomparably subtle Chinese calligraphy! The flavor of the New Year, since ancient times hidden in the traditional Chinese culture ......

The New Year is in fact not only a grand festival, but also the soul of tens of thousands of Chinese people. I want to say: even if one day in the city of steel buildings, disappeared the sound of firecrackers, red couplets, but that fragrant dumplings, the sound of blessings, and the reunion of the strong flavor of the New Year, is never going to disappear, because we are Chinese!

Hometown 'flavor of the year essay 2

Spring Festival, in my hometown, has always been a hot and bustling.

Although the reference to the hometown, the memory has been somewhat sporadic. But the Spring Festival that simple memories, but hidden in the heart, that has been unforgettable flavor of the year, is the hometown of the rice cake.

Around the Spring Festival, it is the day of family reunion. Winter, the earth has been covered with a layer of thin veil, cold spread between the branches. However, it has not dampened people's enthusiasm. On both sides of the street, has set up several small stores. Cooking smoke curls, dazzling in the small streets over; flavor bursts, dense in the nasal cavity, refreshing, I think this is the "flavor of the year" it.

With his mother, linger in the middle of the street, listening to the sound of people boiling, step on a cheerful and enthusiastic. The ear side remembered a burst of yelling, folks a lot, everyone is talking about the joy of the Spring Festival, Kanran laughter, that familiar accent, echoing in the small streets, friendly, but also simple. As a child, I was very greedy. Often go to the street with his mother to buy hot snacks, which is satisfied. Look, look, do not realize, will slow down the footsteps, stop in front of the store of rice cakes.

The store is not very new, the owner is more than forty years old. His skin is dark, the tip of the forehead is covered with bright beads of sweat, eyes slightly smiling, the dexterity of the hands, has been covered with thick calluses. Gazing at that simple face, the heart felt a few points of affinity.

The shopkeeper is playing rice cakes, so involved, so fascinated. He, gazing at the cream-colored rice cakes, hot air rising, from time to time flip patting the rice cakes, the road process, well organized. I also looked into the fascination, straight clapping, I do not know whether the sound of the clap alarmed the shopkeeper, which is like a dream, realize the presence of guests.

Holding the fragrant rice cakes, for which the eyes sound God drunk, the aroma straight through the millimeter, people can not help but smile, obsessed with ...... gently bite a bite, fragrant with sweetness, a warm current surged to the heart, the winter cold gradually dissipated.

Because of the epidemic and time reasons, these years, and then did not return to the hometown, but the hometown of the rice cake has been branded in my heart. This Spring Festival, I remembered the flavor of the year. I've been pestering my mother to look for rice cakes in Hangzhou, looking for this flavor of the year, this mark.

Finally found a store, I held my mother's hand, excitedly toward which, bought some rice cakes, hot. Gently bite a mouthful, but not as sweet as before, seems to be some astringent, hard, a wave of sadness surged to the heart.

I remembered that wonderful memory, that moment. I realized that what I miss is not only playing rice cakes, but also the taste of the New Year in my hometown, the warmth of human feelings ......

The taste of the New Year in my hometown Essay 3

A group of spirited and joyful aunts and grandfathers, behind them are pots and pans, chateaubriand vinegar tea. They are cooking the New Year.

Immediately the dull room erupted with a soupy smell that made the oil pungent and boiling hot; the sound of scissors was the flower buns about to be born; a snow-white cake of sweet silk persimmons had been harvested.

Look at the hands and knives of the grandfathers, slicing the ingredients: sliced meat, large sausages, scallions, tofu, and then slicing them into chunks, shreds, and cubes under the light of a deft knife. Put lots of chili noodles in a pot of simmering oil, pour thick oil over them and pop them crisp. At this point the ingredients are added to the boiling water, and a pot of rich wheat foam is refined by the interplay of thick oil and boiling water. The child has long since been unable to bear the beating heart, spinning around like an ant on a hot pan. When they come out of the pot, they can't take their hands out to eat. 30 years of having fun with loved ones and enjoying the taste of home.

Grab, grab, grab, the old man held the bun in his left hand and the scissors in his right hand. Their fingers fly up and down, with,gorgeous flowers and beautiful colors on the bread to cut the blooming composition. The scissors fluttered like doves, spreading their wings. Sometimes they rise up into the clouds, sometimes they disappear and converge, quietly combing their feathers and resting on the bun. Finally a colorful flower bun appears. Cooked buns can be called handicrafts, making it difficult to swallow.

Yellow, full of yellow lanterns are picked and dried. This is when time washes the persimmon's hardness and precipitates the persimmon's sugar. At the first frost, persimmons are covered with frost, giving full play to the sweetness of persimmons. Persimmon products originate from the precipitation and sublimation of time. After that the persimmons are flattened and a slice of persimmon is born. Persimmon cakes are usually handmade. They are sweet without sugar water and taste no worse than fruit candies.

Hometown is the flavor of the year I remember from as far back as I can remember. People get together, talk, laugh, eat, drink and enjoy the best reunions. It's the anticipation of next year, the attachment of next year, the watchfulness of next year's homecoming.

Early the next morning, the people who finished the pension went to rest.

Between the noses there is still a kind of mellow flavor of the year

hometown flavor of the year essay 4

A group of spirited, red-faced moncler jackets outlet, behind them are pots and pans and shovels, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar and tea. They are doing the flavor of the year.

Immediately burst out of the dull room a crunch, is the oil splash hot pepper was hot; "cha-ching" scissors sound, is the flower buns will soon be born; a piece of snow-white cake, is the sweet silk persimmon cake has been harvested.

Look - moncler jackets outlet, with a swift and fierce knife cut ingredients: meat, sausage, scallions, tofu, in the light of the agile knife, into slices, into silk, into pieces. A large handful of chili noodles is added to the pot, a pot of oil is boiled, and the fierce oil is poured over the chili noodles, bursting into a crunch. At this point, add the ingredients to the boiling water, in the strong oil and boiling water intertwined, quenching a pot of rich wheat bubble. The children have long been unable to resist the wildly beating heart, turning around in place, like ants on a hot pan. When the pot is ready, they don't care if their hands are hot, they pick it up and eat it. And relatives together to feast, savoring the hometown flavor of the New Year's Eve.

"Chop-chop", "chop-chop", the old people left hand holding the bun, the right hand holding the scissors, with the up and down fluttering fingers, in the bun cut out a blooming, gorgeous flowers, the national color. The scissors fluttered like a flying dove, spreading its wings. Sometimes rising into the clouds, sometimes swooping convergence, quietly combing feathers, stopping on the bun. Eventually, a colorful and beautiful flower bun is presented. Do a good job of flower buns, can be called handicrafts, making it difficult to swallow and gulp.

Yellow, full of yellow lanterns picked, sun-dried. At this time, time will blunt the hardness of persimmons and precipitate the sugar of persimmons. At the time of frost, the persimmon will be covered with white frost, giving full play to the sweet aroma of persimmons. The quality of the persimmon cake comes from the precipitation and sublimation of time. After that, the persimmon is pinched and flattened, and a slice of persimmon cake is born. Persimmon cake is often handmade, no sugar water is also sweet and refreshing, the flavor is not inferior to fruit sugar.

My hometown is the most distant flavor of the year in my memory. People get together, talk and laugh, eat and drink, tasting the best reunion. This is next year's expectation, but also next year's attachment, but also next year's home watch.

Early the next morning, after watching the year people go to rest.

The nose is still filled with a most mellow flavor of the year ......

Hometown of the flavor of the year essay 5

My hometown of Shaanxi after entering the waxing month, is the housewives of the busy month. One of the first things on the agenda that cannot be omitted is the fermentation of yellow wine, which is indispensable in the first month of the year. The flavor of yellow wine is strong and refreshing, with a long aftertaste. During the winter months, the land is frozen and the countryside is quiet and solemn. Farmers do not need to work on the land, sitting cross-legged on the kang after meals, drinking a bowl of yellow wine, sobering up and clearing the mind, leisurely leaning back on the bedroll to watch nostalgic sketches played on TV, the taste of happiness and satisfaction, it is simply the days of the gods. Housewives can not be idle for a moment, against the biting northwestern wind, high rolled up the sleeves, pulp wash the dust of the year. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new carrot, and you'll be able to get the carrot out of your hands and into the air, and you'll be able to get the carrot out of your hands and into the air.

To make tofu is a big job, soaking white and black beans in well water the day before and grinding them on a stone mill the next day. Housewives swinging a small spoon will soak up the beans fed to the grinding eye, like to see the white soybean milk like buttermilk with the grinding teeth slowly pouring into the barrel. Filtering and removing the dregs is a laborious task that usually requires the strongest laborer in the family to do it himself. When the white tofu protein in the black iron pot boiling and rolling, housewives red face bloomed a rare smile, as if the June bloomed in the depression as beautiful as Shandandandan. After the point of brine condensation, the fragrant tofu is freshly baked.

After that, from the air windows of every house, the aroma of steaming yellow rice buns and deep-fried oil cakes, curling white gas, more than a month does not dissipate. The woman who will be living skillfully will also find ways to make a lot of fresh patterns, there are fried oil circle, fried cake corner, only this fried cake corner has date paste filling, taro filling, tofu filling, sesame white sugar filling. There is also a hobbyist family made fried oil flower flower and fried cake bubble, these are for the first month of the children to come to the door to visit relatives to prepare the small snacks.

With the sound of pigs and goats howling, the butcher at the head of the village, Mr. Zhang's knife is up and down, and there is white meat on the table, and big and small pots are filled with crimson pig's blood and goat's blood. Soon, the smell of marinated meat and simmering mutton would waft out of the kitchen of every household. The flavor of the year is getting stronger and stronger, as if the Zhuang family home-brewed sorghum wine is as intoxicating.

The hometown of the flavor of the year, is contained in the tip of the tongue of a wisp of nostalgia, no matter how old you live, drifting to the ends of the earth, never fade. On the contrary, this New Year's flavor will be with this time and space distance elongation, more and more intense.