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粽香

 二维码 19
发表时间:2021-11-14 15:34

世上美味繁多,有初春鲤鱼之鲜美,有盛夏莲子之清甜,有深秋粉藕之软糯,有末冬蛋羹之醇香,但能深得奶奶所爱,恒久不变的,却唯有那一缕碧绿的粽香。


粽香在晨曦中孕育。


阳光越过地平线,翻过古朴的屋脊,将积累一夜的温暖倾洒而下。年过花甲的奶奶,用她枯黄的手在水中轻漾,荡起层层涟漪。莹白的米从指腹间滑过,仿佛一个精雕细琢的小娃娃,餍足地畅游在自己的小天地间。那阳光更是倾洒而下,给她们披上一层朦胧的霓裳……我懒洋洋的倚在藤椅上,眯着眼看着这无声的一切。这幅温馨的场景,自我有记忆起,便常常在我的眼前呈现,无论花开花落,亦或云卷云舒,一直在那里……


粽香在午后发酵。


奶奶束起满头银发,端坐在桌前。将青翠欲滴的芭蕉叶平铺桌前,轻柔抓起一把莹白的米撒在其上,接下来更是行云流水。原本佝偻的手此刻异常灵活的穿插着,仿如钢琴键上跳动的小精灵,似乎这动作早已随岁月,深深的印记在了灵魂上。不管是曾经亭亭玉立的少女,亦是如今的花甲老人,恒在的是嘴角的那一抹微笑,以及眼底不变的柔和。


粽香在黄昏中爆发。


“咕喽,咕喽……”像三月的闷泉。冉冉升起的白烟遮挡了视线,却也让粽香弥漫了厨房。轻咬一口,糯米携着清香在舌尖爆发,首冲大脑,带来了灵魂的颤动。那些泛黄的回忆也涌了上来……


于我们这年轻的一辈而言,这粽香着实平淡无奇。于奶奶而言,却不仅仅只是一道菜,因为它温暖了岁月的日日年年,承载着祖祖辈辈的荣辱沉浮,一直流淌在血液中,恒久未变,传承至今……


何谓之恒,于奶奶而言,不过传承手艺。


何谓佳肴,纵清欢百味,不抵一缕粽香。

There are so many delicacies in the world, including the deliciousness of early spring carp, the sweetness of midsummer lotus seeds, the softness of late autumn lotus root, and the mellow flavor of late winter custard, but the only thing that can be loved by grandma is the only one that will last forever. A ray of green rice dumplings.


Zongxiang is conceived in the morning light.


The sunlight crossed the horizon and over the quaint roof, pouring down the warmth that had accumulated for the night. The grandmother, who was over sixty years old, used her withered hands to lightly ripple in the water. The white rice slid across the fingertips, like a delicately crafted little doll, swimming contentedly in his own little world. The sunlight poured down even more, draping them with a hazy neon clothes... I leaned lazily on the wicker chair, squinting at everything that was silent. This warm scene, as long as I can remember it, is often presented in front of my eyes, whether the flowers are blooming or falling, or the clouds are always there...


The fragrant rice dumplings ferment in the afternoon.


Grandma tied her silver hair and sat at the table. Spread the verdant banana leaves flat on the table, gently grabbed a handful of white rice and sprinkled on it, and then there was even more flowing water. The rickety hand was interspersed with extraordinary flexibility at this moment, like a little elf beating on the piano keys, it seems that this action has been deeply imprinted on the soul with the years. Whether it was a slim girl or an old man in sixties, the smile on the corner of the mouth and the softness of the eyes remain unchanged.


The fragrance of rice dumplings erupted in the dusk.


"Uh, uh..." like a stuffy spring in March. The rising white smoke blocked the view, but it also filled the kitchen with the smell of rice dumplings. With a light bite, the glutinous rice burst out on the tip of the tongue with the fragrance, first hit the brain, bringing the trembling of the soul. Those yellowing memories also flooded up...


For our young generation, this zongxiang is really ordinary. For Grandma Yu, it is more than just a dish, because it warms the years and carries the honor and disgrace of ancestors and ancestors. It has been flowing in the blood for a long time and has not changed. It has been passed down to this day...


What is perseverance, for grandma, but inherited craftsmanship.


What is a delicacy, it is not worth a ray of rice dumplings.


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