Golden skin

Golden skin, wrapped with fragrant filling, this is the hometown pie. Bite down, crispy, salty flavor instantly spread to my every taste buds, delicious. My hometown in -, flat cake is a must for people, men and women, young and old, love it. The granny who made the flat cake often stood at the door of the shop, grinning from ear to ear, calling out: "Flat cake, just out of the pot flat cake..." Young people who get off work always stop at the street pancake shop to buy a pancake and starve themselves. But they often buy only one, because one flatcake is enough. The old people often give half of the food to their wife and taste the other half, as if they are enjoying the most precious delicious food in the world. The children are a school clamoring to adults to buy themselves to eat, holding a hot flat cake, a bite, with the fragrance of vegetable flavor, then dispersed in the children's laughter and mother's loving smile. As soon as I returned to the countryside, I would pester my grandmother to make me some flatbread. Every time she started, she would wash her hands first and then carefully clean all the tools she needed. She never leaves out every detail for anything. I still remember my grandmother rolling the smooth, soft dough into a thin crust and placing it in the center of the board. Then she neatly placed the filling on top and compacted it with a spoon. Every step was so careful. Often at this time, I cheered around in front of the stove, around the grandmother's side, around in dense steam, around in the fragrance. So far that mouth-watering feeling still aftertaste in my memory. Of course, looking at my grandmother's skilled movements, I naturally can not quiet down. I would always pull her coat corner, looking at her, begged: "Grandma, grandma, you let me try good? I promise not to rock the boat." Grandma was very serious about making flatbread and never asked for help because she didn't trust her -- but she would still agree to my requests and guide me with a loving smile.

Of course, we often present our neighbors with home-cooked food. But I never saw them say thank you, as if it were a matter of course. I asked my grandmother why everyone was so strange, but she just smiled and said, "Normal, normal." Think carefully, the truth is very simple: this is the hometown people ah, enthusiasm, frank, but also simple and honest, simple; This exchange of gifts is not polite, but a habit. I love the cake of my hometown, I love the life of my hometown, I love the local customs of my hometown.

Of course, we often present our neighbors with home-cooked food. But I never saw them say thank you, as if it were a matter of course. I asked my grandmother why everyone was so strange, but she just smiled and said, "Normal, normal." Think carefully, the truth is very simple: this is the hometown people ah, enthusiasm, frank, but also simple and honest, simple; This exchange of gifts is not polite, but a habit. I love the cake of my hometown, I love the life of my hometown, I love the local customs of my hometown.

Of course, we often present our neighbors with home-cooked food. But I never saw them say thank you, as if it were a matter of course. I asked my grandmother why everyone was so strange, but she just smiled and said, "Normal, normal." Think carefully, the truth is very simple: this is the hometown people ah, enthusiasm, frank, but also simple and honest, simple; This exchange of gifts is not polite, but a habit. I love the cake of my hometown, I love the life of my hometown, I love the local customs of my hometown.