A collection of 5 800-word essays about taste

The taste of life, sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty five-flavor bottles; the music of life, a symphony of pots and pans. Let me share with you some 800-word essay about taste. I hope it will be helpful to you.

An 800-word essay on taste 1

"Taste is the hardest thing to explain. You can't write about taste, you can only smell it. You have to be there and smell it to understand it." The taste is indeed It's something that I can't explain clearly, but it's the intertwining of these flavors that make up my life.

What I miss the most is the smell of the vegetable market in the early morning in summer. Feel free to put on lightweight shorts and go shopping, smelling and experiencing with your mother. At the entrance is the vegetable area, with plants, fruits and vegetables, bright and pure. There was a damp, earthy smell, slightly bitter, but it seemed to have the vitality of grass after rain. Taking a deep breath, the wet smell in the mud was covered up by the smell of sweet dew. The smell of ironing made me feel relaxed and happy. Deep in the market is the meat section, without the isolation of supermarket freezers. A disgusting smell of blood rushed straight into my nose, mixed with a hint of darkness. I couldn't stand the smell, so I left my mother and walked into a breakfast shop in the market to eat some steaming vegetable buns.

The steam fills the air, not the strong and passionate smell of cooking smoke, but a very reassuring and warm smell, just right between cold and hot, sweet and bitter. The fragrant stems are soft, and the crispy bamboo shoots in my mouth burst out on the tip of my tongue. I greedily enjoyed the satisfying taste and let them linger in my mouth. Mom walked in and brought in the smell of her body. Although the smell was faint and unclear, it was extremely refreshing and refreshing. In addition, you can smell a few odors in some untied bags, which is the faint fishy smell. I immediately covered my nose, but she raised the bags and shook them as if to show off. I seemed to see something and smell something in the fireworks. Probably because the aftertaste in the mouth is sweet but contains a hint of bitter love.

When you get home, open the door with the key, and the first gust of wind blowing from the stairs is home. The smell at home is really unique! What lifts my hair is the scent of lilies that my mother brought back from the market; what floats into my nose is the smell of menthol tobacco that permeates my father's body; it touches my legs. What makes me excited is the rich and familiar smell of dog hair. He stood on the carpet in front of the door for a long time, refusing to leave for a long time. Let this gust of wind stay for a longer time, and let these ordinary but warm flavors linger all over my body, and then I can re-establish communication with my home and have a sense of belonging.

"The smell is even difficult to remember. Only when you smell it can you remember all its emotions and meanings." So I often go home and let the smell evoke everything about my home and life. Emotions and meanings give me infinite power.

An 800-word essay on taste 2

In summer, it is always hot and rainy, and the raindrops drip on the soil, permeating the freshness. Add a unique kind of excitement to this sultry summer.

In the past, I always thought, "I want to make a meal and give it to my mother to try." But for various reasons, the meal I cooked by myself has not yet come out. . Now, I finally have a chance to perform well. I couldn't help but think: "Hey, how does it taste? You'll know after you taste it."

I strolled through several crowded streets and alleys and walked into the vegetable market. Half an hour passed, and under the guidance of my mother, I carefully selected and bought ingredients that satisfied me.

On the way home, the sunset dimmed the clouds in the sky. The sunset was infinitely beautiful, and a smile hung on the corner of my mouth.

"Da, da, da...", a slender and busy figure appeared in the kitchen. I am doing a small "program", mincing garlic and salted fish, preparing to make a dish - fish-flavored eggplant, my mother's favorite. The eggplant is soft in the mouth, juicy and delicious, and tastes extremely delicious. I was feeling very proud and thought happily: I used to stand by my mother's side and watch, so I won't be too far behind when I make it. Turn on the fire and preheat the pot. Don't throw the minced garlic and oil in so hastily. Make sure the remaining water in the pot is gone and the temperature must be high enough. Now, it's my time to show off my skills. Pour the oil around the edge of the pan, then gently add the minced garlic and stir-fry quickly.

But I still couldn't avoid the misfortune of being splashed with oil. For a moment, it was like being pierced by a needlepoint into my skin. I can't help but think, doesn't my mother often get oil splashed on her arms? If not handled properly, scars will be left. The smell of fried garlic brought me back to my thoughts. The smell makes people salivate.

The big project is still running normally. Then, add the eggplant to the pan and stir-fry constantly. Add a third of a ladle of water, cover the pot, and simmer for a long time. During the long wait, my mother came to check and asked kindly: "How is it? It smells delicious." Feeling very happy, she smiled sweetly and said: "Not bad, it's almost ready to serve." ”

After ten minutes, flatten the eggplant easily and add salt, Zhuhou sauce and small peppers. I tasted it and felt that it lacked a little salt. The eggplant in my mouth had a slight spiciness, and the texture and taste were not bad. He put the delicious and fragrant fish-flavored eggplant in front of his mother, looked at her with a smile and said, "Try it, it should be OK."

Mom chewed it and said, "It's pretty good. Yes, it tastes good!"

This taste is not that taste. On the tip of the tongue, there is a collision of taste buds between love and delicious food.

Essay about taste 800 words 3

Make a ball of light clouds and wave it into the distance, watching the sun slowly rise from the sea, with light and bright golden light. Youth, just like this feeling, is plain and beautiful. If you chew it carefully, it is so rich but fleeting.

Quietly flipping through a thick graduation album, looking at us smiling happily in the photo frame, recalling bits and pieces of the past, a smile couldn't help but appear at the corner of my mouth, but it was a little bitter. Once upon a time, our eyes became red again and again because we had to say goodbye. When we took graduation photos, we wanted the photographer to keep a few more memories of us and our classmates. When we said goodbye, we hugged each other tightly and hoped that this moment would last longer. But we are no longer the ignorant babies we were when we were young. We can no longer exchange tears for what we long for. We used to be a group of people who said they would never leave, but now we are going our separate ways. The ruthless years have overturned every young promise.

Tears flowed into the corners of my mouth when we parted. Youth must be so sad.

I firmly believe that parting is for a better encounter next time. Until I met you, you excellent and sunny people. Your bravery and struggle during military training, your seriousness and concentration during study, and your unity during competition are like the breeze, gently caressing the softest place deep in my heart. Within a few weeks of the start of the school year, we became familiar with the "popular kings". During class, there would always be a few naughty ones who jumped out of their mouths and made everyone laugh non-stop. During class, everyone gathered in groups. Talking, laughing and teasing each other. We are no longer unfamiliar with each other. Now we study together, progress together, and struggle together. Now we are a class and a collective. This group is full of warmth. There will always be someone who can carefully detect your unhappiness, and there will always be someone who will promptly send you a smile filled with joy, as if the warm sun in winter has dispelled the coldness in your heart.

The slight pear dimples at the corners of the mouth when smiling, youth is probably so sweet.

Youth, the best time in life, always has to withstand tests. Just like breaking out of a cocoon and turning into a butterfly, you need to struggle. It is inevitable to have bumps and bumps on the way to the other side of growth. Facing these ups and downs, you can only be brave. Break through. We bid farewell to childhood and become confident and mature. We learned to be grateful for the struggle. We no longer shed tears, because only in sweat can we breed hope. We no longer love crying, because silence makes us mature. Our desire for the future and our enthusiasm for beautiful things have turned into motivation, allowing us to struggle and move forward!

Courage and hard work, youth is probably so spicy.

Looking back suddenly, I see all the footprints I left on the road of youth. They are traces of growth.

Close your eyes and reminisce. In youth, there is sourness, spiciness, and more fragrance.

An 800-word essay on taste 4

There are thousands of tastes in the world, but there is only one taste that is always beautiful and unforgettable, and that is the taste of home.

I remember when I was young, we always went back to my grandpa’s house to celebrate the New Year. Several children wore red clothes given by the neighbors and were busy helping the adults pack their things early in the morning on New Year’s Eve.

My fourth uncle was from the countryside, but he had written all the Spring Festival couplets in previous years, so we found some ink and after he finished writing, we carefully posted them on both sides of the door. Grandpa was very happy to see them.

The New Year is always the happiest time, and the New Year’s Eve dinner is the most delicious taste. People in my hometown make cold chicken. Just looking at the side dishes and condiments makes people salivate, and their stomachs instantly start to rumble. Every time I think of these things, I can't help but laugh and have endless aftertaste. Until now, I have always felt that the food at home is not as delicious as the food at home. After all, I can still listen to the words of my elders admonishing the younger ones, and I always feel that the truth is profound.

There is one of the most interesting things when I return to my hometown during the holidays: showing off my test results in front of my elders, because as long as I do well in the test, the red envelope will be bigger. Thanks to my parents for not confiscating these "bonuses" ...Childhood memories are spent surrounded by the fragrance of red envelope bags and the smell of oil fumes.

In my hometown, there are not so many rules during the New Year, but we all like to set off fireworks together at twelve o'clock. Although we are already very sleepy by then, adults and children are waiting. I like to look at the sky and see the colorful lights in the sky at twelve o'clock. The sky above the entire village was filled with beautiful fireworks, and the dark night sky seemed to be enveloped in the joy of the New Year. The happiness of reunion

is mixed with the scent of the fireworks after they are burned out.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, every family went to and fro with relatives, some played cards and drank wine. The elderly sat by the fire to keep warm, holding fresh and hot roasted sweet potatoes. While eating and chatting, we enjoyed ourselves and missed Shu. When we saw that there was still some meat and shrimp left, we asked the adults to roast some for us to eat. Even if it was burnt and smelly, burnt pork and sweet potatoes were always the warmest delicacies of our childhood.

The first breakfast of the new year is a bowl of noodles. Perhaps this is a bowl of longevity noodles, which indicates a prosperous future. This bowl of noodles is always salty and spicy, making it unforgettable. .

After that, we children sat on small benches, washing vegetables, and discussing last night’s activities and the taste of today’s noodles. A morning passed and although we hadn't finished talking, our hands were full of the smell of lettuce. Fortunately, the adults were worried about us getting hurt, so the hard work of cutting meat had nothing to do with us, and we could have fun.

The taste of hometown is like a warm current, which makes people linger and have endless aftertaste!

An 800-word essay on taste 5

The taste of success is often gratifying , sweet. This New Year's Day, I tasted this taste and experienced its beauty!

On Sunday afternoon, I came to the basketball court on time as usual. Warm up first, and after just a few laps, I was out of breath. When Coach Li (basketball coach) told us to practice three-step layups, my heart was in my throat. Because I have no confidence at all in the three-step layup. In fact, I have never mastered this skill. Now I must show my true colors!

Soon it will be my turn to do the key moves. I will first Calm down, when I was dribbling quickly and still two steps away from the basket, the ball slipped from my shaking hands and fell to the ground. This also meant that I was one point less than others (you can rest after making 3 shots). . At this time, the coach shook his head helplessly and said nothing. I picked up the basketball and ran back to my seat quickly, ready to try again. I dribbled hard and made a layup. The ball hit the rim hard and bounced to the ground. The coach shouted to me loudly from a distance: "Xiao Bian, remember, when you go for a layup, you have to raise the ball high and hit the board lightly to make the shot!" I looked in the direction of the coach and nodded habitually. I nodded, as if to say to the coach: "Don't worry." But I still felt unsure. Returning to my position, I was thoughtful. Maybe it was because of my temporary fever. Every time I made a layup, I always forgot what the coach said, so I often missed.

Success is reserved for those who are prepared. Thinking of this famous saying, I compete with myself. I tried many times, failed many times, got up from the place of failure many times, and fell down at the original place many times. God! You are so unfavorable to me and don't let me score a single goal! I am frustrated, desperate, and even thought of giving up.

But looking ahead, my teammates not only did not laugh, but also cheered me on. For them and for myself, I must persevere!

I patted my head and cheered up. I mustered up the courage to come to the coach. Coach Li looked at me with a smile and said sincerely: "You must listen to me. When you go for a layup, you must step on the right foot and lift the ball above your head. Don't use brute force when hitting the board." , just use seven points of force!" After that, he picked up the ball and demonstrated it for me. When he dribbled the ball, he made a fake move, one step to the left, one step to the right, like flowing water, and effortlessly sent the ball into the net. I looked at the coach and prayed silently in my heart. I gave myself ten chances, but I had missed seven times. The rest had to be successful again and again! I decided to go all out and put all my efforts into it. I hit every time in the first two times. For the last time, I encouraged myself in my heart: "Just for the sake of dignity (a joke among boys), I will also make a successful hit!" I followed the same pattern and looked at the basket with firm eyes. I started dribbling and passed. I hit the sign bucket, quickly broke through to the inside, and was close to the basket. My heart was pounding, and my adrenaline was soaring. I aimed at the basket and shot lightly, and the ball hit the net... Yes, I succeeded!

I successfully learned the three-step layup, and even tasted the taste of success with my perseverance!

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