The flavor of hometown: a selection of 600 words in the composition of the first day of junior high school

The taste of hometown is often unforgettable, just like a cup of strong tea and a sweet cake. The following is a selection of 600-word hometown-flavor compositions compiled by me for your reference only. Welcome to read them.

Since I came to the city, my daily life has always felt a little less flavor. The smell of my hometown always haunts my mind, and I miss my hometown more and more.

In the fields of my hometown, the morning air is mixed with the smell of earth and the fragrance of wild flowers. There is a small river at the head of the village. When I was a child, I always followed my grandparents anxiously across a small bridge and came to the field. At that time, I was always happy My grandfather pulls weeds, I catch tadpoles, my grandmother hoes the ground, I catch butterflies, carefree, as if there were only my grandparents and me in the world.

I remember when I was 4 or 5 years old, once my grandfather was plowing in the field, and my grandmother was going to water him, but something happened, so I volunteered to go, but when I got to the bridge, I stopped, for fear that I would fall into the river and suddenly sweat would drop from my forehead. It is a challenge for me to cross this small bridge. I gathered up my courage, took a deep breath and let go of my footsteps. When I got to the bridge, I felt extremely relaxed. A gust of wind blew, and the rich fragrance of rape blossoms came to the nose.

Speaking of taste, I can't forget the delicious food and simple taste in my hometown. Every time I eat the same dish, I think of the tofu residue at home, the vegetables grown in the field and the fish raised in the fish pond. When I was 7 years old, I got sick once. I remember my grandmother always used chrysanthemum brain to make soup for me and bitter gourd to stir-fry me. At that time, I was not sensible at all, and I didn't like hard things. Now whenever I eat these dishes, I will think that it is my grandmother's love for me.

Everyone in my hometown is clean and refreshing. They are self-reliant and approachable. Grandpa taught me to play chess. The closeness between people in my hometown is something I can't feel in the city, which makes me unforgettable.

Now that I am in the city, my heart is attached to my hometown, and the land, grass, flowers and people have all become wisps of thick flavor to grow with me. This is the hometown flavor that I will never forget.

The flavor of hometown 600 words selected article 2 Do you know my favorite flavor? That's the smell of my hometown. The taste of hometown may be that you are used to it and often ignore it, but when you are far away from home, you will unconsciously think of the taste of hometown.

My hometown is Chengdu, and my favorite is the hot pot in Chengdu. The hot pot is fragrant and spicy, with some hemp. The delicious bottom of the pot with fresh meat and vegetarian dishes is really mouth watering.

Not long ago, I went to Europe. After a few days in Europe, I traveled around and tasted European food. But on 10, I suddenly remembered the taste of my hometown-hot pot. Somehow, every time I eat, I can't help but think of the spicy and delicious hot pot, and my mother's busy green figure in the kitchen with an apron! When I sleep at night, I always dream that my family is sitting around the boiling hot pot, talking and laughing. The taste is unforgettable in any case, unforgettable. Every time I wake up from my dream, I often miss my tears! Suddenly, the trip to Europe is coming to an end, anxious to return. On the night I came back from Europe, I learned from the WeChat group that the first meal arranged by our classmates who went to Europe was almost always hot pot, which shows how charming hot pot is! When I smell the hot pot again, it is a feeling I will never forget. Only those who have experienced it can feel it

I travel a lot. Whenever I miss my hometown very much, I will eat hot pot. Hot pot is the flavor of my hometown, so it tastes just like home.

Ah! The smell of hometown makes people linger. Eating it will make you miss your hometown, your relatives and your warm home.

My hometown is in the middle of China, where the two rivers meet and a hundred schools of thought contend. The poet Li Bai once wrote, "The Jade Emperor blows the Yellow Crane Tower, and plum blossoms fall into the river in May". Yes, my hometown is Jiangcheng Wuhan. She is not only a place with rivers, lakes and water, but also has a unique nostalgic taste. This kind of taste is particularly kind and fragrant for a long time.

The flavor of hometown is the fragrance of Regan Noodles. Every morning, when I pass the street, I always stop at a small shop. Even though there is a long line in front of the store, the smell of sesame always reminds me of a greedy bug in my stomach. The familiar shopkeeper got the message, handed me a bowl of Regan Noodles, mixed with sesame seeds, and wolfed down a few mouthfuls. The whole person is activated.

The taste of my hometown is the crispness of my face. When I was a child, I was short of money. I would rather not drink soda at noon, but also buy a bowl of Regan Noodles's noodle nest and an iced mung bean soup, biting the shell of the noodle nest. The crisp sound is accompanied by a tender and smooth taste, and the aftertaste is endless.

The taste of hometown is the faint sweetness of stewed pork ribs with lotus root. Lotus root collides with meat to produce Wuhan specialty dishes. On holidays and family dinners, stewed ribs with lotus root are always indispensable on the dining table. Because I am young, I have no long-term experience of leaving home, but no matter how many days I leave home, I will miss the faint sweetness of stewed pork ribs with lotus root.

The taste of hometown is the first memory of life. It begins from childhood and slowly precipitates with the passage of time, becoming more and more full. No matter where I go, no matter where I am, I can rely on this warm breath to find that long-lost touch and throw myself into the warm embrace of my hometown.

The taste of hometown Four days ago, my grandmother brought a bag of sweet potatoes from her hometown, which was covered with a layer of soil and had a simple country flavor. Steamed, wash your hands and gently take one, for fear of crushing the lovely shape of sweet potato with great strength. Smelling the taste, it is sweet and fragrant, and my thoughts have returned to my distant hometown. ...

My hometown is in a remote mountain village, with overlapping mountains, green mountains and green waters raising my folks. When I came home on National Day last year, I saw that all the old tile houses were gone. Now buildings have been built on both sides of the road, shops can be seen everywhere, and the countryside has become modern.

Hometown is changing and people don't know it. The air is full of the breath of a new era. People in my hometown are not yesterday, the scenery and things are changing, but the taste of my hometown will not change. The most beautiful thing is the smell of childhood, mixed with naughty breath. I remember when I was four years old, I planted flowers and plants in my yard. There is Zhu Bao tea. Li Shu. There is also a grape in the backyard of cordate telosma ... because grandpa likes to grow flowers, especially four cordate telosma. There is also an longan tree in the backyard, which is so big that it takes three children to hold it. In autumn, the trees are full of fruits and the branches are bent. The breeze is blowing gently, and the fruit is dancing on the branches, which is very beautiful.

What I like best is the summer night, when the cordate telosma will quietly open, emitting a strange floral fragrance, which is faint and surrounds you. This is the smell of summer night, and there seems to be no fragrance in the air. When you take a step closer, you will feel more real. Cordate telosma always attracts some fireflies, so we turn off the lights and watch those fireflies fly around with a faint light green light. This is the starlight on a summer night. When eating, the evening breeze blew the fragrance of cordate telosma, and fireflies danced under our feet, so eating became a kind of enjoyment.

And the memory melts in the flavor of this hometown, leaving a little bit of missing will also attract endless missing, so that we who are in a foreign land can quietly taste. ...

The flavor of hometown 600 words selected article 5 Every year before the Spring Festival, our family will go to grandpa's house.

Grandpa's home is in a very remote mountain village. Looking into the distance, there are lush forests everywhere, a few eaves and tiles floating among the leaves, and a few cattle hooves faintly ring on the bluestone road in the forest. Occasionally, a dull sound or two comes from the breeze, which has an ancient flavor.

Since grandma died, every year during the Spring Festival, most of the cooks at home are mothers. The kitchen became her workshop, and the cooker was her production line. My mother blinks every time she enters the kitchen. With the crackling sound in the kitchen, flames leap out, oil dances in a break dance, small vegetables queue up in an orderly way and jump into the pot, and shovels stir fry with my dear iron pot brothers. In a short time, all kinds of ingredients were transformed from her hand and put on colorful clothes. The mouth-watering color and aroma have formed an unforgettable taste, which has always been in my taste buds.

The cauldron in the kitchen always makes my mother burst into tears, but it carries a lot of touching flavor. Only by cooking in this cauldron can you taste the taste that you can never get in the city. This is the taste of the countryside, the taste of home! They gradually became the desire on my tongue.

Later, grandpa was getting older and older, and no one took care of him in the countryside, so we took him back to the city, and the pot full of fireworks gradually faded out of our sight. Sometimes I think of the smoke from my hometown and my grandfather's cauldron, and I want to smell the burnt straw in the oven, so we go back to our hometown. At dusk, the tired birds returned to their nests. I stood on the mountain overlooking the small village, enjoying the wisps of smoke in the kitchen. When the breeze blows gently, I take a deep breath and let the taste of this hometown slowly melt into my body. The whole person was immersed in the smoke, keeping the fragrance and forgetting everything.

Today's life, those traditional customs, the thick smell of vegetables coming from crackling firewood, the burning smell of straw, the curling smoke and the cauldron stove bearing the flavor of hometown have long been distant memories, but they are deeply left in my memory.

The flavor of hometown is the 600-word composition of the first day of junior high school. This Spring Festival, I finally returned to my hometown and finally returned to the arms of my loved ones. How I miss the voice of my loved ones and the warm embrace of my loved ones!

On the first day back to my hometown, I saw a unique purple in the red at home. Looking at the praise of my family, I quietly thought, what is that? Is it really so delicious?

This is our specialty in Hubei, called Caitai. No in Hangzhou! "See my doubts, grandma help me. I came to my senses, looked at it and thought. i also want to have a try. What is this? I stared at the cauliflower and watched it carefully. Its stem is stable purple, bright and quiet, and its leaves are bright green, mature and fresh. I took a sip, ah! The stem looks very old and hard, but it becomes silky and chewy when eaten in the mouth; The leaves are mixed with juice, not sweet or greasy, and have a unique taste, but after swallowing, there is a faint sweetness of the tongue root. How delicious! I always feel as if I have seen it somewhere. I tried to think, but I couldn't remember. Where the hell is it?

On the second day of the Lunar New Year, I went back to my ancestral home. There is also a vegetable field, red, green and green, forming a beautiful scenery. Of course, there is no lack of purple in cauliflower. Curious, I went to the front of the cauliflower and looked east and west, trying to pull it out to see what was going on. I grabbed a cabbage moss with one hand, and the other hand tried to pull open the soil below and clean it up. I'll shake this cauliflower again. It seems that after a long time, I finally pulled out the food! Looking at it, my smile blooms on my face. I hold it tightly as if it were my memory and my thought.

On the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, I returned to Hangzhou. Eating Le Tai at the dinner table, I thought, why is it different? So this is the taste of home! Looking at it, I can't help thinking of life in my hometown. I looked at it stupefied, but my appearance did not change, but my eyes changed. There are not only the delicious food of the past, but also the thoughts of hometown and relatives!

The Taste of Hometown 600 words Seven-grade and Six-grade Composition Selection Writing Scenery Topic: The Taste of Hometown. The taste of hometown is unique and profound. A 250-word landscape composition written by the author in the sixth grade shows his deep nostalgia for his hometown.

In my memory, there are often some familiar smells flashing in my mind. Vaguely pulling me, I thought of my hometown. The familiar taste is the taste of my hometown, which constantly stimulates my taste buds and lingers. Reminds me of my childhood.

In my hometown, there is a clear river. Although the river is not too deep, there are a lot of fish and shrimp here. In hot summer, we like catching fish in the river best. At that time, fish were easy to catch, unlike fish now, which were very delicate. At that time, loaches were all as big as sticks. Occasionally, you can catch small crabs hidden in the cracks, which can be steamed, fried, boiled and fried. A few drops of oil will taste absolutely delicious. It's a pity that you can't eat such a taste now.

Time flies, what changes is things, and what remains unchanged is the lingering taste of hometown.

The flavor of hometown 600-word selected articles scattered "Mori Dish" was sealed in the door of the box, which has not been opened for a long time. When I walked in, I smelled a strong dreamy hometown atmosphere.

On the occasion of the New Year in China, adults beat gongs and drums. They skillfully roll the dough up and down, make a banging sound, and then knead the dough into strips, so that each side is very smooth and there is no excess fat. Then, in the prime time of cooking, they jumped into the boiling oil pan from the hands of adults in a soft posture and drew an arc. When they first entered the pot, they seemed to be naughty children diving underwater and holding their breath longer than anyone else. Then, one by one impatient, rushed out of the water, put on a brand-new golden dress, like dazzling gold bars, emitting dazzling light. They are called fried buns, and they have been teasing my taste buds. I held back the hot enthusiasm that it had just come out of the pot, grabbed a piece and stuffed it into my mouth. Crisp taste and waxy fragrance, like a flood, spew out attractive sweetness! Yes, this is the taste of my love, the taste of my hometown.

If I can only satisfy my amazing stomach with a fried bag, it's too small to look at its capacity. So, my keen sense of smell guided me to look for another smell, only to see its soft figure being pulled wantonly, and its figure getting slimmer and slimmer, as if losing weight crazily before taking part in a beauty contest. Yes, it's the lovely noodle lady! Countless noodles enter the pot and slide into the bottom of the pot. After a few minutes, the chef brought it up, and then the seasoning and colorist dressed it up with sauce. The delicate sauce is evenly spread on each noodle, which instantly glows bright and attractive. I solemnly picked up the bowl of noodles and savored the delicacy of each noodle. It seemed to know my intention, and the fragrant smell left in my mouth lingered for a long time.

Countless delicacies have been captured by my stomach, and their delicacies at that time are now dispersed with time. The only lingering taste is the smell of my beloved hometown that still lingers between my lips and teeth.

I don't know what the taste of my hometown is, but I know that the smoke from Shan Ye is angry; I don't know what the taste of my hometown is, but I know the taste of the soil deposited in the old house is; I don't know what the taste of my hometown is, but I know that the lingering smell of bamboo leaves in the bamboo tube is it. Chongqing is very big, and there are too many flavors in my hometown, but only the dribs and drabs in ordinary days can remind me of my hometown.

The flavor of hometown is the faint bamboo leaf flavor in the bamboo forest. The mountain bamboo forests in Chongqing are green all year round, and the cool evening breeze blows a faint bamboo fragrance from the bamboo leaves, which makes people feel particularly comfortable. It's not the delicate bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River, no, the bamboo on the mountain here goes straight into the sky, and there is always a bodybuilding posture; Not the exquisite bamboo carving in the glass cabinet. No, the bamboo here is only used to weave baskets, and there is always a simple atmosphere. I still remember the bamboo pen container that my grandmother cut for me one by one, which exudes this unforgettable bamboo fragrance all year round.

The taste of hometown is the citrus fragrance that comes out every year during the Qingming Festival. At this time, my cousin and I will hold bamboo poles and play with oranges in a competition. We often have a round belly to destroy trophies.

The taste of hometown is the smell of mud deposited in old houses and the smell of rice floating in kitchen smoke. Pushing open the creaking wooden door, we greeted everyone with a smile. The greedy watchdog came running with its furry tail wagging. It's time for dinner. Grandma brought steaming jiaozi with a serene smile on her wrinkled face. On the other side of the table, my father shouted to everyone to pick up the food, and the hearty laughter filled the hut. My cousin and I didn't want to eat, so we picked up a piece of meat to make us fat. Pangpang first wagged his tail desperately, waited for a long time, and finally got impatient. He let out a cry and scared my cousin and me to let go, and the meat fell to the ground. I picked up an unknown cake, which was fried golden and almost stuck my teeth off. Dad smiled, and the breath of happiness spread in the sun. I couldn't help laughing at the thought of my embarrassment.

The taste of hometown is also somewhat mysterious. The taste of my hometown is bitter grass among the vegetable beds, and there is always a strong herb flavor similar to wormwood leaves. I know it, its leaves are arranged like pagodas, and my father told me it can stop nosebleeds. I always wanted to try.

The taste of hometown is a bit weird, too. The taste of hometown is chubby sweet potatoes in grandma's basket at night. Dad said that at night, there was a monster named devil in the mountains, staring at green eyes. I asked my grandmother who went to carry sweet potatoes at night, does it really exist? Grandma nodded and pursed her lips. Since then, the five-year-old sweet potato has become mysterious in my eyes. Now that I think about it, isn't this a kind of care from my father and grandmother? In the basket, the taste of love is rising.

The flavor of my hometown is the fog on the top of the mountain, the mystery of the endless mountains, the big river crabs running rampant by the pool, half a citrus shared with my cousin, boiled fish, spicy bean curd, dried peppers, sausages personally sent by my grandmother during the Chinese New Year, and memories of one scene after another when holding bamboo tubes.

I love you, the smell of hometown.

Grade one: Cheng Rui

A lyric prose should be written freely, with beautiful language and, more importantly, sincere and true feelings! Just like this article we saw!

There are many flavors in hometown, which can be concrete or abstract, but they are all familiar. The author fully explained the taste of hometown from the things around him. This kind of narrative is naturally unpretentious, which makes us feel immersive!

So what's the smell of your hometown?

Shen