Today to bring you a piece of Shanxi oil cake, let us taste the sweet oil cake of life together, is a very grounded snack in Shanxi hometown. Because he uses yellow rice noodles, he was born wearing a golden armor coat, and the filling in his stomach is full of date paste, bean paste and sugar, and he marries in his hometown for a birthday and other lively white seeds. Oil cakes are essential foods on the table. Without his presence, it was as if something was missing on the table.
To make the ointment, you must first steam the filling, and the red beans must be steamed to mash the dates to go to the lake, and there are also people who are not particular about keeping the jujube pot. These earth-like foods also suddenly distinguish between fine and rough. When Yama made cake noodles, he used yellow rice noodles to work well, put them in a pot, steamed a thousand and five minutes on a high fire, locked the left stone, and dipped his hands in cold water, and to the bright golden island. Roll into strips of oil, and finally the filling is wrapped. When I was a child, every time my mother made oil cakes before they were fried, she couldn't wait to lift a few white cakes with a good filling.
At this time, my mother: I will definitely say that I am in a hurry to fry what is good to eat, and then no one will rob you, at this time I will definitely make a grimace, laugh and run away. Counting the time waiting for the fat general in the oil pot not far away, Chu Guo's expectation of food and mother's craftsmanship should be the common memory of every child in town and village. Recently, when I came home, I walked alone on the old street, and I overheard the familiar roar of the street, and when I walked over to the boss, I skillfully picked up a large colander, and one by one the horses sent down the oil pot, watching one by one the oil cake grunt and roll down the oil pot happily.
The round fat general was blown up and poured out of the skin to make small bubbles before it could come out of the pot. The boss took a bag to fill me with fried things, which were the most intimidating when they were boiling hot, but also the most delicious. I couldn't wait to take one out, take a bite, and then I could eat the bean paste that was full of it. Well, it's still the same taste as before. Now I think that if I could walk slowly, as I did when I was a child, my father would hold my hand and hold half of the bitten ointment in my hand, then I would not be afraid to go as far as I could.
Maybe life is like that golden ointment, only when you go down the oil pot will it mature, and then let me take a bite. Well, life actually has a sweet taste.