After driving for about an hour and a half on such a bumpy road, my uncle finally pulled us to my grandmother's house. I thought that my grandmother would go out to meet us, but when I walked to the door, I found that it was a different situation.

As for what it was, it wasn't until I saw the scene in front of me that I remembered that it was October. A harvest season, a harvest day in the fall.

Today's grandma's house is harvesting autumn. What is harvest autumn, the so-called harvest autumn, is nothing more than in the autumn harvest season, used to harvest crops that have been planted for a year.

When we first arrived, the door was full of people. What aunts and aunts, these relatives who live here, and grandma are busy at the door. Carloads of carts pulling crops came over and put them down in the place where the sacks of hemp were spread at the door.

Mom and Dad hurriedly pulled their suitcases in, then changed into an older pair of clothes, and ran to the door to help with the autumn harvesting work. I, on the other hand, obediently obeyed, went into the house, and then sat on the characteristic fire kang in the northeast, moved over to the window, and looked at them outside the window.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I suddenly remembered when I was a child. At that time, I was just a seven or eight-year-old child! Children's memories are always fragmented and incomplete.

As we grow up, we tend to forget a lot of things. Whether it's something we cared about the most, something we've seen, or someone we've cared about in particular.

We will all forget, and forgetting is something that each of us is reluctant to forget. But as the saying goes, when a person's suffering reaches the extreme, we will choose to forget. Because I don't want to remember the pain, I choose to forget.

Forgetting is never terrible, what is terrible is the incompleteness of forgetting. Misunderstandings between friends, once remembered, can no longer be as loving each other as before. This is the price of incomplete forgetting.

Sometimes, we forget the happiest thing we want the most. It's like I was sitting on the train just now, and when I woke up, I still remember, but when I got here, when I arrived at my grandmother's house, the dream began to become more and more blurred, as if I was swallowed by the nightmare beast of the Heavenly Palace, and it was magically gone.

I looked out the window, and it was no different from what I had seen when I was a child. But there are differences. And the main difference is that the people who work do things in different ways!

When my grandmother was young, she started to do things, and she also had a kind of heroic spirit, that is, the feeling of doing things, very chic, very courageous to do things, and doing things very quickly. But today's grandma is very slow to pick up the corn that has been planted for a year and pulled to the door of the house by the car, just picking it up in the box.

It seems that grandma is really not as good as before. Each of us gets old at some point, but some people come earlier, and some people come later.

Sticks of golden corn were pulled from the fields to the gate of my grandmother's house by one cart after another. Then the carriage lifted, and the gravitational force followed, and the sticks of corn rolled down from the car.

When the car was empty, he drove back to the fields. I heard that my uncle was waiting in the field, and what he was doing at their side was called loading.

And the main job of the people at this gate is to move the corn from the gate to the granary enclosed by several fences in the yard. Then wait for a suitable time, and then sell the corn, leaving only some for his own family to eat, and the remaining broken corn kernels will become the rations of the few old hens that have been raised in the yard for more than three years and can lay eggs.

I looked out the window on the fire, and I could have seventeen or eighteen minutes, and I couldn't be idle any longer. Looks like they're going to be busy until late at night. When we arrived, it was already half past six, and it seemed that they were going to be busy until eight or nine o'clock in the evening!

Then they're going to be hungry, so I'll make them something to eat! With that in mind, I stepped down from the fire and began to execute my plan to make a gourmet meal.

I still remember when I was in the second grade of elementary school, it was also such a scene of autumn harvest, and I used a rice cooker to make homemade hand-rolled noodles for everyone for the first time in my life.

This time, let's switch to something else! After all, it is also very troublesome to start rolling dough by hand. To mix the dough, roll it out with a rolling pin, then cut it with a knife and boil it in water.

So, at this time, I came up with a new idea, and I came to make okonomiyaki for them. Okonomiyaki and monjaki are actually about the same, mainly because of the distinction of fabrics.

To make this kind of thing, you need a frying pan with character. And I thought about making this thing, mostly because I just looked around the room and found this awesome pan.

It was really a frying pan made for us okonomiyaki, so without further ado, I started preparing the ingredients. I walked to the refrigerator and opened the door, and there were so many ingredients that I could use to make okonomiyaki.

First of all, it's the high-gluten flour, which I saw at a food camp before, but I hadn't tried it myself. Today, it's the first time I've made something like this.

Then there's the squid, the onions, the chopped green onions, and the seaweed, and the kohlrabi, which is cabbage, and all of that. Actually, I would like to say that making okonomiyaki seems to be more troublesome than making hand-rolled noodles. But now that I've decided to make it, I have to concentrate on making every dish, which can be regarded as my dedication as a foodie.

I then mixed the gluten flour with the warm water in the kettle to make it slimy, and then sprinkled the squid meat and a bunch of other ingredients into it.

The most important step is to control the temperature of the okonomiyaki oil. I put the electric pan on and poured a little oil into it. Listening to the crackling sound, the oil inside boiled open.

At this point, I turned down the heat in the pan to a slight drop in oil temperature. After that, seeing that the oil temperature had dropped to about that temperature, I poured the cake paste into the pot.

After pouring it into the pot, I used a spatula made of bamboo, and began to flatten the batter, then turned up the heat again, and waited for the oil temperature to come up again, and after a while, the oil temperature came up again, and I turned down the heat again.

Then he pressed the flour paste in the pot with a bamboo spatula, and slowly, he slowly changed color, from a white and tender fat man, to a golden thin man, so it seems that Okonomiyaki is about to be completed.

I turned off the heat, unplugged the socket of the pan, and sprinkled seaweed shavings on top of the cooked okonomiyaki, and that's it! Now, just wait for them to come in and have a taste.

()

1 second to remember Aishang: