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面板上一大盆豆腐油渣腌菜和好的馅,还有切成小块的面团,妹妹系着围裙俨然继承了母亲的厨艺。看着我站在背后,母亲说厨房这么拥挤,还是看电视去,等下吃现成的,你那衣服干净,碰上锅底灰过年就不好穿了。看妹妹忙着,趁着母亲起身,我钻进仄仄的灶台,坐在窄窄的小凳上。炉口堆满了手指粗齐、一人高的干柴,一整捆的豆萁放在边上。我随手拆出两根豆萁,塞进火膛。母亲在锅背后说:“你慢点添豆萁,不然粿烫焦成黑炭了,就给你一个人吃。”
A large bowl of tofu on the panel pickles and good stuffing, as well as cut into small pieces of dough, sister wearing an apron as if inherited the mother’s cooking. Looked behind me standing, the mother said the kitchen is so crowded, or watching TV go, eat ready, your clothes clean, hit the bottom of the pot, the New Year is not good to wear gray. Looked busy sister, taking advantage of his mother got up, I got into the Chek stove, sitting in a narrow stool. Stove filled with finger coarse, one high dry wood, a bundle of beans on the edge of the cake. I readily disassembled two beans, stuffed into the fire chamber. Mother said behind the pot: “You add beans slowly, or 粿 hot coke into black charcoal, give you a person to eat.”