Essay about brothers who share spoons together

Time flies by, and ten years pass by. What I can’t forget the most is the days when I played spoon with my brothers.

After graduating from college in 2007, I became a teacher after a round of written examinations. At the beginning, I was afraid that I would not pass the exam, so I prepared very seriously before the exam. If I was almost there, I would have to burn the ointment and follow the sundial so that I could sleep day and night. Later, I learned that there were more than 60 people who signed up, but there were 59 places for the examination. Of course, I did well in the exam and entered the top twenty.

I was assigned to go back to my alma mater, Lunzhen Middle School, to teach in front of my own teacher, and became colleagues with my own teacher. It was still awkward at first, but then I gradually got used to it, and instead There is a slight sense of superiority because I am so familiar with this place. The campus is still the same campus, the classrooms are still the same classrooms, the cafeteria is still the same cafeteria, and the little mouse lying on my bedside is probably still there!

There was a teacher assigned with me, I called him Lao Guo, and we were placed in the same dormitory. I feel quite satisfied with other issues, but the biggest headache is the food issue. The food in the canteen is boring. It was manageable for the first few days, but then it became increasingly difficult to swallow. I scratch my head every day about the problem of eating. My roommate Lao Guo also frowns every time it’s time to eat.

One afternoon, when I was worrying about dinner, I suddenly heard a squeaking sound. I immediately concluded that it was the fierce collision of the vegetables being put into the pot and coming into contact with the hot oil, and then there was a loud noise. A burst of fragrance. When I went out, I saw that the door of the penultimate dormitory on the east side was open, and two young teachers were cooking. The blue flames in the mouth of the gas stove were baking the bottom of the pot. One teacher was stir-frying the vegetables inside, and the other teacher was leaning against the door. The two of them were still discussing something. The cook is Lao Meng. Although he is called Lao Meng, he is actually not very old. He graduated from a technical secondary school and was only 19 years old when he started working. Standing leaning against the door is Xiao Ding, who teaches in a small town not far from the school and is just boarding here. When they saw me coming, they happily invited me to eat with them. Just because I was heartbroken, I readily agreed. I use chopsticks to pick up a mouthful of freshly cooked bean sprouts, eat a mouthful of hot steamed buns, and drink a mouthful of sticky porridge made from fragrant cornmeal. The pleasure is unbearable. During the chat, I learned that there was another teacher named Haitao joining the group for dinner, but he went home that day and didn't catch up. In the beginning, I just had food and porridge from time to time, but later I officially became a member of the organization.

We all have our own division of labor. Every time we eat, some are responsible for buying steamed buns, some are responsible for cooking, some are responsible for making porridge, and some are responsible for cleaning up the mess and washing the pots and dishes.

Haitao is in charge of cooking, and he looks like a star chef. His secret to cooking is to add a lot of oil and soy sauce. There is one dish that remains fresh in my memory, and that is fried white radish. In the past, I hated eating white radish. When fried, sometimes it became burnt, and sometimes it smelled like raw radish. Haitao's spicy stir-fried white radish subverted my idea. He heats the oil first, of course, add a lot of oil. When the oil is hot, add the dried chili peppers. With the chili seeds jumping around in the pot, the aroma of the chili peppers is also stimulated by the hot oil. At this time, add in the chopped chili peppers. of white radish shreds, stir-fry for a while, wait until the oil has soaked every radish shred, add soy sauce and continue to stir-fry, wait until all the radish shreds turn soy sauce red, then add salt and MSG, stir-fry evenly, then Ready to serve. The surface of each shredded white radish has a shiny red sheen. When you bring it close to your nose and smell it, the aroma of fried chili oil and the unique taste of white radish will hit your nose. Take a bite and it will be soft and delicious. I couldn't help giving a thumbs up and praised the chef.

We have porridge three times a day. The task of making porridge is usually done by Brother Meng. A large electric pot, filled with water every time, or not enough, God knows how much porridge four or five young men can drink. There is also a rumor here that Brother Meng has a big appetite. When he was a few years ago, the machine steamed steamed buns in the steamed bun room were of course not too big and not very heavy. Meng Ge's daily intake is usually 686: six in the morning, eight at noon, and six in the evening. Eating steamed buns and vegetables just builds up the structure in my stomach, and then I drink two or three bowls of porridge to fill up the gaps. Brother Meng's appetite is indeed very large. Although he has never seen the grand occasion of 686, three or four bowls of porridge are common.

Hot pot is the divine meal in winter. Of course we are no exception. Pick a day when there are no classes and gather together in the courtyard of Lao Li’s family. Lao Li is a married man, and the school has arranged a room for him in the family courtyard at the back. The advantage is that it is a private courtyard.

Mr. Sun, Lao Li’s wife, is a very tolerant person and always entertains me warmly. A few packages of quick-frozen mutton slices costing fifteen or six yuan each, two washed Chinese cabbages, potatoes cut into thick slices, Longkou vermicelli, peanuts, a bottle of wine, an electric pot on the table, and everyone sat around, cooking. Open the shabu. The cold wind is howling outside, but the house is as warm as spring, and the heat is rising. Take out the cabbage leaves with a layer of red oil from the pot, put them in a small bowl and dip them in the sauce, and put them in while the heat is there. He put it in his mouth, his mouth was burning and hurting, but he couldn't bear to put it down until it was all in his stomach. Everyone raised their glasses and took a sip of the knife. The taste was better than that of a living god, and the joy was endless. Of course, eating it dry is meaningless. Naturally, I can talk about astronomy and geography, international and domestic affairs, current affairs news, fairy tales, street lace, folk fairies and monsters. After having enough food and wine, he would touch a few cards whenever he felt like it. At this time, the most embarrassing person was Lao Li. He was color blind and could not distinguish between the big and small kings, causing many jokes.

After a year of swiping a spoon in one pot, eating in one pot, and drinking soup in one pot, our organization also disbanded with Brother Meng’s marriage. Lao Liu, Lao Li, and Xiao Ding were all transferred to the city one after another. Lao Guo went to Indonesia to teach in the past two years. He could no longer see Lao Liu dancing with a spoon and making a knife, and he could no longer eat the fragrant white rice. Carrot shreds, although Brother Meng was by his side, he couldn't witness his passion for drinking bowl after bowl of porridge.

Year after year, there are ups and downs, and ten years have passed in a blink of an eye. I have aged and experienced many vicissitudes of life, but those warm days and those close friends are like the wind chimes in front of the window, the breeze. Fingers stroked softly, and ripples filled the pond in my heart.