In your memory, who was cooking the pot and who was stir-frying? Food in all directions, but a bowl of human fireworks. My unquenchable enthusiasm burned in the stove, and my boiling love stewed in the pot. Loved the firewood from my hometown

In your memory, who was cooking the pot and who was stir-frying?

Food in all directions, but a bowl of human fireworks.

My unquenchable enthusiasm burned in the stove, and my boiling love stewed in the pot.

I like the firewood stove in my hometown, cooking and cooking are so fragrant, especially the fried meat, which is different from the natural gas in the city, which is simply one in the sky and one in the ground.

This crackling fire not only heated the food, but also warmed my childhood.