A composition on the topic of aftertaste

In study, work, and life, everyone has the experience of writing essays, so they are very familiar with them. Through essays, we can gather our scattered thoughts together. So how to write a good composition? The following is a collection of essays on the topic of aftertaste that I have collected. You are welcome to read it. I hope you will like it. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 1

My grandmother often told us a word: first bitter, then sweet. She believes that only by enduring hardship first can you enjoy sweetness in the end.

When I was a child, I would always see radishes being dried in every household at my grandma’s house, and they would eventually become dried radishes one by one. The conditions at home are not very good, but we only know that dried radish has become a very important food in our lives.

I still remember the way my grandma made dried radishes. She always wore a scarf on her head and had a dark complexion. She looked like an industrious rural woman. She moved large tracts of dried radishes around by herself. The unique aroma of dried radish reverberated in the air. It smells like grass. If you smell it carefully, you will smell a light salty taste. It is not very strong, so it does not taste salty. Sometimes I dip it in soy sauce when I eat it, but I just like to eat the most original taste. It always feels very simple but unique.

Every New Year, the dried radish that usually goes with porridge is finally served with meat. Delicious meat, my favorite when I was a child. At this time, the dried radish fully shows its charm in the pot. It is ordinary. Dried radish became a favorite among children because it was stained with meat, which was the favorite meat at that time. The strange thing is that now I have forgotten the taste of meat, but what I always miss is dried radish. Perhaps, sometimes what people care about about food is not the taste, but the feelings.

Many years have passed, and we have moved to another place and lived a happy life, but my grandma refused to move. She said she couldn’t bear to leave here. It’s the New Year again, and we are going to go back to grandma’s house. Every time we go back, When I arrived, the trunk of the car was filled to the brim with grandma. What remains unchanged every day are a few bags of dried radishes, placed heavily in the carriage, steadily, firmly, and continuously... The road the car crosses is the road connecting home and the road connecting to love.

When I was three years old, I liked to follow my grandma and watch her make dried radishes.

At the age of six, I like to eat meat, but I no longer like to eat dried radishes.

At the age of nine, I began to miss that package of dried radish again.

Now I understand my grandma’s love, which is as simple and unpretentious as the package of dried radishes placed unswervingly in the carriage, just like my grandma’s feelings for me. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 2

Drink a cup of tea and reminisce about the faint, slightly bitter aroma that lingers in your mouth; eat a piece of cake and reminisce about the greasy and mellow fragrance that lingers for a long time; wear Passing through a field of flowers, I savored the strong and overwhelming fragrance lingering on my nose. Walking playfully across a beach, recalling the dazzling golden sand, and the distant and invisible sea; strolling peacefully through a green courtyard, recalling the refreshing air, and the ivy that is so green that it seems to be dripping out. Gently close the heavy book and reminisce about the heroic spirit of the heart and sword in the book, and the love between children and daughters.

Life is like a low and melodious violin music. What shocks people is not the melody floating out at the moment. But at the end of the song, those flashy and magnificent appearances fragilely dissipated. The rest, like the lingering sound lingering in my mind for three days, are those few notes and minor tunes that cannot be dissipated for a lifetime.

In my spare time, I recall the sunshine in my childhood that was as pure as the scorching afternoon sun, so bright and clean that no impurities could be found, the nursery rhymes and stories that my grandparents seemed to never finish telling, and the little cats under their paws. The tangled balls of yarn, the honest and dull old scalper next door, and the spotted dog that was always jumping around at my uncle’s house formed my childhood. Of course, there are also the endless ancient trees in Cangshan Mountain, the mottled green tile walls with criss-crossing vines and flowers, the sudden chirping of frogs and cicadas in the middle of the night, and the croaking cicadas rising from the ground in the dusk mist. The smoke from the kitchen...Childhood is like a glass of white water. It has a different charm in the ordinary, which makes people forget about it and can't put it down.

Looking back on the little more youthful years of the past two years, I have skipped the rebellious period early and immersed myself in the boundless sea of ??books. There are always endless things to write. The endless complicated homework, the hard work of staying up late at night to write, the bitterness of failing in the exam, and more importantly, the strong and inseparable friendship with my classmates, and the deep gratitude to the teacher deep in my heart. Love for the school. The collective strong love, all the sweet, bitter, spicy and salty flavors are mixed together to compose the next long violin piece in a free and unrestrained way, and it also displays the bright colors, meticulous legato practice, and brisk little jump bows. , and the shocking two-tone sound, shining with their own flashy light!

Aftertaste, I just hope that when I am too old to remember anything, I can sit there quietly and look back at my life silently. There is still a place in my mind where the melodious music is still flowing. of violin music. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 3

In this life, there are many things and people worthy of us savoring the ups and downs, joys and sorrows, and realizing the true meaning of life. Now, please join me in reviewing it!

This summer vacation, I was bored at home, so I sat down quietly and listened to the sound of "tick, tick, tick..." of rain outside. I couldn't help but shed tears, and a kind smile appeared in my mind. It made me immersed in an unforgettable thing...

When I was ten years old, it was also a rainy day. The sky was overcast, there was a layer of mist outside, and there were small flowers and grass on the roadside. We are all crestfallen, and our hearts are just as heavy. After a while we came to the funeral home, thinking that my grandma had died of cancer. When my grandma was pushed away for cremation, I couldn't control my emotions. I hurriedly ran over, hugged her body and cried, saying, "Grandma, you can't leave me like this. I am your most beloved granddaughter!" , tears flowed out like a downpour. My mother came over and pulled me and said, "Son, grandma is dead and cannot be resurrected. Please let her go on her way!" After that, my mother forcibly pulled me out. After I came out, I listened to the sound of the cremation machine running and watched my grandma’s body slowly enter the machine from the outside. I hugged my mother and cried loudly, recalling the past events of my childhood.

When I was a child, my grandfather was in poor health, so my grandmother did all the chores at home. Whenever grandma goes to the vegetable garden, I always follow behind like a follower. As soon as I arrived at the vegetable garden, I went to pick the tomatoes planted by my grandma and crushed the seedlings in the ground. Grandma didn't say anything, but looked at me kindly and said, "It's okay." After I finished eating, I ran away as if It was like a wild horse that had lost its stiffness. My grandma was calling me from behind to be careful and don’t fall, but I just didn’t listen and ran faster and faster. Later I fell down and bled a lot. Grandma still looked at me with her kind smile, gently touched my wound and applied medicine to me.

At this time, I wiped away my tears and returned to reality, but my grandma’s kind smile still appeared in my mind. Therefore, I made up my mind to study hard and become a doctor in the future, so that I could eliminate the pain of diseases for many people and bring them hope and joy in life. So, I mustered up my confidence and devoted myself to intense study.

Let us reminisce about the past, cherish the present, and cherish everything we have now! Essay on the topic of aftertaste 4

When we look back at the spring rain, our hearts are filled with brilliant colors; after the grass, we feel the infinite vitality; Seal will make us full of expectations for the future.

Every ray of starlight shines with the cantabile past, and every morning heralds infinite enlightenment. Standing at the crossroads of life, I look back. Every bit and piece along the way is like the footprints on the beach, truly engraved in my heart, always reminding me: we are growing.

Standing outside the threshold of adulthood, there may still be childish faces behind you. His young and bright eyes revealed a hint of cynicism, and there was a hint of sadness hidden in his lonely smile. Maybe growth is like this: sadness and joy, loss and relief, noise and tranquility. The days that once had five flavors have become fragrant in the memories. Whenever night comes with light steps, the prosperity and noise of the day gradually disappear. In the hazy and quiet night, I often fall into boundless memories.

In the journey of growth, what we need is to experience calmly, perceive calmly, and face bravely.

Everyone's growth cannot be smooth sailing. If growth is a piece of writing, then troubles are typos hidden deep in the paragraphs; if growth is a blank piece of paper, then troubles are a flaw on the back. Just when I was about to give up, Santiago said "People are not born to be defeated", and retreat will no longer be a reason; just when I was about to give up, Napoleon said "There has never been anything in my dictionary" There is no such word as 'difficulty'", and difficulty will no longer be an excuse.

Everything has its shortcomings, and the shortcomings in growth are troubles. But it is precisely because of this shortcoming that the original things are more beautiful. Growing up means saying goodbye to childhood. We are so nostalgic and have to reminisce about everything in childhood. There are so many past events in our childhood, so happy and touching. In childhood, there are beautiful dolls, cakes, ice cream, and toys. Everything we have has and we want to continue. And growth has undoubtedly completely obliterated all of these. There are only those dreams that I have longed for and the fear when I wake up from the dream. We have been hurt a lot while growing up, but remember one sentence, thank those who hurt you, because they taught you something and understood something, and you can only experience these by yourself. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 5

Life is moving forward, and we are all like pedestrians in a hurry, striving to catch up. Sometimes, when you stop to rest and quietly reflect on the journey you have traveled, it is like a treasure box suddenly opens for you, and your memories flow out like pearls, continuously, and you will suddenly find that the past was like this The land is beautiful.

Suddenly, I recalled a game.

When I was in primary school, the school organized an airplane model competition. Participants made several homemade wooden airplanes and compared the flying distance. I'm not good at throwing, and the planes always drop dejectedly when thrown very close. I didn’t plan to sign up, but with the encouragement of my mother and teacher, I decided to give it a try and went to participate.

First of all, I have to make an airplane model, which is a very happy process. The teacher dedicated a lesson for everyone to collaborate on the production. There are three people in our group participating, so we need to make three planes. Everyone first used sandpaper to smooth the aircraft. No matter what they collaborated on, it was particularly interesting. After the preliminary work was completed, the most technical step came, which was to glue the aircraft together with 502 glue. This step also determines the As the plane flew, I put the wings and the fuselage together, and another classmate dripped glue on the gap. "Hey, it dripped on my finger," I said. "Then do you want to wash it?" Another person asked anxiously, "Let's stick the plane like this first, and then wash it later." I replied, what can you do without any sacrifice, let alone a small one? finger. With everyone's cooperation, the aircraft was completed on schedule.

On the day of the competition, in order to prevent accidents, I made two airplanes. It can be said that I was fully prepared and practiced for many days. There were two chances in the game. The first time I didn't perform well. I threw it hard, but the plane landed with a bang in a few seconds. I covered my face and thought why it was so bad. But I must perform my best in the second time. With renewed confidence, I threw it out. The wind happened to be blowing. The plane slid in a perfect arc, circled around, and finally landed, a good result. I got excited.

I have always recalled that experience, because not only did I experience the joy of working with everyone, but it also made me understand that I have to be bold in everything I do. If I hadn’t signed up for that attempt, when would I have known You can throw the plane so far, you may not succeed if you try, and you will definitely fail if you don't try. Thanks to that competition, I understood this. Whenever I recall that competition, I will be very warm, because it was my harvest and my huge fruit. Essay 6 on the topic of aftertaste

Today I am fourteen years old. Occasionally I look back at the growth path I have gone through for more than ten years. There are tears, laughter, disappointment, and sadness. So Lots of sour, sweet, bitter and spicy, just like a five-flavor bottle.

When I was a child, I was innocent and a world full of joy. I didn’t have to worry about studying and could enjoy the beauty of games. It was an innocent and pure world.

When I was a child, I always loved to play hide and seek. I liked to blindfold myself and count down to 50, 49, 48... but I could not help but want to peek a few times, waiting for a long series of numbers to be revealed. After I finished counting, I began to "think hard" about where my friends would hide. When I finally found them, I would always be shocked, but I was glad that it was not me who caught them. At this time, I have to think about where to hide from time to time. He likes the joy of catching and being caught, he likes to find a secluded place to hide, and he likes to think about where there is a secluded place. This kind of life gives me unlimited enjoyment, as if I am in a "paradise".

As I grew older, I went to elementary school. I heard from my mother that I was very undisciplined in the first grade at that time. I would not sit still in class. I would talk to my classmates. The funniest thing was that I didn’t know what “homework” was at that time, but I made a huge joke. When I went to school the next day, the teacher began to collect homework, and all the other students handed in a notebook (but it was an empty notebook and no names were written on it). The teacher didn't criticize me afterward. She told me what happened with my homework and said I was a cute kid. Since then, I have always completed each lesson seriously, so as to "review the past and learn the new".

When I entered the first grade of junior high school, none of my good friends were in the same class, and I became a "lonely" child. Without a friend to talk to, I feel a little sad. Until our class held a rope skipping competition, the students were all practicing, talking and laughing, but I was the only one jumping, and with a "pop", I tripped on the rope, and I fell to the ground, twisting my feet and causing pain. It hurt, and I couldn't help but shed tears. At this moment, a piece of toilet paper appeared in front of my eyes. When I looked up, it was the kind smiling face of my classmate. Such warmth invaded my heart...

Every bit of the past is always so pure and beautiful, just like a brand in my heart, always giving me endless aftertaste. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 7

Looking back on the past time, the picture has become a little outdated, and the voices and smiles of the characters in the picture have long been forgotten. What is left is just a mottled and broken picture. There was a subtle light in my mind.

Childhood Ivy

When I was very young, I lived with my grandparents. The houses in the community were a bit old. An iron railing separated the quaint community buildings from the high-rise buildings. separated. There are exquisite greenings and sports facilities on the high-rise building side, while on the quaint community side, there are ivy clinging to one side of the building and henna, vegetables and fruit trees planted by the residents themselves. The wave of ivy, like a waterfall, pours down from the roof of the building and wraps around the guardrail outside the window, threatening to turn the entire building into its posture. The children next door and I often play in the ivy curtains, as if we can climb to the top of the building and all the way to the sky by following the ivy's footsteps. I can no longer remember the scene of playing at that time. I only remember the overwhelming ivy and the faint fragrance it exudes.

Begonia in childhood

When I was in primary school, there was a huge crabapple tree in the community, like a green giant, standing among the flowers and gardens. In spring, it sprouts branches and buds, adding fresh green to the strong spring mood; in summer, it blooms gorgeous flowers. From a distance, a tree of crabapples is like a torch, gorgeous and dazzling; in autumn, it bears sweet and sour fruits. The red fruit hangs precariously not far from the ground, adding more happiness to people; in winter, it stands upright in the white snow, silently waiting for the arrival of spring and new life. Its red flame-like flowers and fruits are burning in my memory and lingering.

Sophora japonica in childhood

When I was in the first grade of junior high school, the road between school and home was always filled with falling sophora japonica in late spring and early summer. The ground is covered with gold, and the carpet is like gold velvet. It is spread from the street to the end of the street, exuding the sweet fragrance of Sophora japonica. There are still petals falling down above the head. Walking under the tree, it is like being in a rain of flowers beside you. Shrouded in the scent of flowers. So, the memory stops at this moment full of gold and sunshine.

The river of time will never stop, and it will never stop flowing, and the most beautiful scene in our memory is quietly on the beach in our mind, waiting for us to pick it up, reminisce, and find it. Return to your truest self. Essay on the topic of aftertaste 8

There are many evocative things in this world, such as: the beautiful scenery and the delicious food.

Etc. are all unforgettable.

But every time in the dead of night, I recall the scenes of farming and harvesting with my grandparents as a child, and the interesting things that happened back then, I feel extremely happy in my heart, and I truly feel that I have grown up. Big.

I remember that when I was 6 years old, I came to my grandpa’s house because my mother was busy at work. At that time, my grandfather bought a piece of land in a nearby village. He and his grandma plowed the land there, sowing seeds, watering, shoveling, and harvesting. It was autumn when I went, the vegetables were ripe and they were about to be harvested. I also participated in it. The autumn air is crisp and clear. In the farmland, various vegetables exude a fragrance. The endless fields are refreshing and refreshing. Holding a basket in my hand, I walked into the field and prepared to start working. However, the vegetables grew so tall that you couldn't even see my shadow inside. There was no other way, so my grandpa asked me to take him to a short eggplant field to pick eggplants. I started picking. Pick whatever you see regardless of size or shape. The result was unripe or wilted eggplants in my basket. Grandma saw it, sighed, and said with a smile: "Oh, why did you pick some like this? Haha, there is really nothing I can do about you." The grandpa next to him also laughed loudly. I looked at them with blank eyes, then looked at the eggplants in the basket, and also laughed.

Then, I came to another piece of land. My grandfather told me that it was a carrot patch and asked me to pull one out and take a look. I had an idea, grabbed the carrot leaves with both hands, and pulled them up hard. But why can't it be pulled out? This one must be a huge one! I muttered in my mind and started pulling out again. I used all my strength to finally pull it out with a bang, and I fell to the ground. I was so happy that I picked up the carrot in my hand and waved to my grandma and grandpa, saying, "Look! How big it is!" They looked at it and said, "Why is it so small? Haha, you pulled it wrong again." I took a closer look. , ah, how could it be. That carrot is only as big as your index finger.

How carefree I was at that time! How naive! After so many years, I have grown up and become more sensible. Whenever I think about this incident, I will think of my late grandfather. The day and year I spent with him are really unforgettable for me!