Seeing that the noodles in the boiling water had softened, Loran Hill stirred them slightly with chopsticks, then added the vegetables. Finally, he took out a scallion, washed it, cut it into small pieces, and put it into the pot.
White steam rose, the aroma of noodles filled the air, and the green onions emitted a pleasant fragrance after being heated, which aroused some appetite. Finally, Loran Hill poured in a spoonful of sesame oil, added a little salt, waited for a while, and then turned off the fire.
After serving the noodles in a bowl, he poured soup on top, just enough to cover the noodles in the bowl so there wasn't too much waste. Loran Hill rinsed the pot and set it aside.
So, tonight’s dinner is ready.
Holding the chopsticks and the hot white porcelain bowl of noodles, Loran Hill walked out of the kitchen carefully and came to the quiet restaurant nearby. She placed the bowl on the table. Only then did she let go of her hand and shook it lightly in the air several times to dissipate the heat.
Now he could enjoy it with peace of mind. Loran Hill sat by the window, lit a big candle, placed it on the table, and then dissipated the small fireball, feeling relaxed and comfortable.
In the candlelight, the clear oil in the noodle soup reflected a little light, rippling slightly, and its orange-red light and shadow were dotted with a few green onions. Occasionally, a few pieces of light white tender meat popped out from the gaps in the noodles, emitting wisps of white mist in the candlelight. Two pieces of mushrooms floated in the clear oil at the corners, looking very soft.
Holding the chopsticks, Loran Hill picked up a little bit of noodles. Because she was afraid that the oil would splash on her body, she lowered her head slightly, then pressed her hands on her chest, and then began to eat in small bites.
The fresh fragrance of the noodles followed the steaming white vapor into my nose, warming my slightly cold nasal cavity, and a slightly familiar and nostalgic feeling came to my heart.
When did I eat the most noodles? It must have been when I was in middle school in my previous life.
At that time, I had to get up at 5:30 every day and go to the noodle shop in front of the school at around 6:00. It was always dark at this time, and the air was very cold. There were not many people on the street. Under the light of the street lights, I and other students rode our bikes to the front of the school, and then sat at the greasy table stained with oil smoke, ate breakfast that day, and then went to school for class.
At that time, my favorite dish was ramen, but unfortunately I didn’t know how to make it. Later, when I started working, I started cooking noodles by myself in the house after get off work.
As time went by, my skills became more and more proficient. I started to use some chili peppers and seasoning powders, but later I abandoned them because I felt the taste was too mixed and not as good as the original aroma of the ingredients.
It's so sad and familiar. When Loran Hill thought of the past, he felt a little nostalgic and wanted to laugh.
However, whenever it’s late at night and I’m sitting there eating noodles, I think about a lot of things. Sometimes I feel sad, sometimes I feel expectant, sometimes I think about my childhood, and sometimes a name that I haven’t seen for a long time pops up in my mind.
Lamenting the passing of time and the changes in people and things.
The primary and junior high schools have been abolished and merged and disappeared. The group of laughing friends back then are now nowhere to be found. Even if we meet again, we may only be able to smile at each other and then pass by each other.
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