Taste of My Childhood

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My hometown is Guangzhou. Guangzhou is well known for its dim sum and all kinds of refreshments. One of my favorites is chicken feet. Since childhood, I have been fond of eating my grandfather’s chicken feet. A lot of people get to ask me, why do you love eating so much? Because it’s soft and sweet. Every time I went to my grandfather’s house. The happiest thing was that the chicken feet were brought to the table, and then a bite on the bone, very tasty and honey taste, very sweet. Then I feel my world is full of sweet taste. This is the taste of my childhood.

But somehow, my grandpa kept on making mistakes. Either he put too much honey or the chicken feet were steamed too long and rotten. Anyway, it’s not to my taste. In order to consider my grandfather’s mood, but also will deal with the two bites of food, casually say a few delicious, prevaricated in the past. Slowly, the taste of chicken feet more and more strange, a bite down, greasy straight want to vomit. Finally, one day, I looked my grandpa in the eye and said, Aren’t these chicken feet too sweet? Could you put less honey or sugar next time?. Although the tone is trying to put light, but still gave grandpa a crippling blow. See him silent for a long time, nodded, while picking up the plate, said: Well, I’ll pay attention to the next time. I was just so busy playing with my phone that I didn’t notice the light going out in grandpa’s eyes.

Late at night, I wanted to get up to find snacks when I walked out of the room, I saw the dim light in the living room playing on grandpa’s lonely back. There were very kinds of spice boxes in front of him, and the cold chicken feet. My grandfather dipped his fingers in the condiment and sent it into his mouth. After trying it for two bites, he murmured: This is sugar. This is vinegar, this is soy sauce. At this moment, my childhood memories keep appearing in my heart. And grandpa that increasingly rickets back like waves, I was trapped in the huge whirlpool, unable to go out. I remembered that my grandfather had told me not long ago, I am old, and my taste is not clever any more. What an injustice, he said. I think that, with the chicken feet cold down, is grandpa’s heart.

Finally, I began to love eating grandpa’s chicken feet again. In the chicken feet, contains my grandpa’s love to me. Many people will wonder, why do you like eating grandpa’s chicken feet so much? Because, it’s soft, but it’s also sweet, it’s true.

After a while, I left my hometown where I had lived for a long time and came to the strange Canada. Here, I’m like a paragraph: It was important for me to have them on hand during my first few years living alone because I was going through a transitional period. Their mere existence in my pantry was enough to remind me that even rented houses could somewhat feel like home, and I took solace in that. I men them so I could cultivate a sense of home and connection, which I felt was lost amid extracurricular activities. I have not fully involved in it. Only when I try to make honey and phoenix feet, I can recall the smell of home and grandpa. This is the nicest, sweetest thing for me.

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