The stomach will be homesick before the heart

　　Flipping through the dynamics of WeChat Moments, I saw a long string of texts sent by friends: “I really want to go home, I miss my mother’s braised noodles, acacia flower buns, yellow stewed chicken, broken noodles, dumplings…” Those with The text with ellipsis is slightly coquettish and playful, which reminds me of the food my mother made.
　　When I was working in a small town in my hometown, I always liked to go home every weekend, because as long as I went home, my mother would always arrange different delicacies for me. After I was tired of eating alone fast food in the city, I came home No matter what you eat, you will feel a different kind of warmth. I once suspected that my mother drew the recipes in my mind in advance every time I was going home, so that I could start cooking all kinds of delicious food as soon as I got home, so that my mouth was greedy, and I was so stubborn No matter where I go, I always think about her food.
　　For example, I don’t like meat, but I still like ribs, so every time I go home, my mother always cooks a ribs meal for me. She bought those ribs ahead of time and put them in the freezer. When I got home, they would come out of the freezer on Saturday morning. Before the meal, my mother always blanch the spare ribs that had been thawed in advance to remove the bloody smell of the meat, and melted a few rock sugar into the oil pan. Dancing fashionable break dancing, my mother is like a top chef who has experienced vicissitudes of life, waving a spoon and cooking the ribs in the pot… When the ribs are out of the pot, they are sitting on the dining table steaming hot. I showed a charming smile. My mother always wanted to make up for all the meat I didn’t eat at home, and picked all the juicy and thick meat into my bowl. Soon, my bowl would become a small hill , the bottom of the bowl is rice, and the rice is covered with a mother’s love wrapped in the fragrance of meat.
　　For dinner, no need to ask, my mother also knows, I must eat a bowl of hand-rolled noodles. So, she made up with each other early, and started busy when the sun was westward. She skillfully fried an eggplant, and then pulled out a few small rapeseed plants specially planted for me in the small courtyard, picked them, washed them and cut them into small pieces. Then cut the rolled noodles into thick and uniform noodles with uniform length and length, cook the noodles, put all the prepared vegetables in, stir well, adjust the seasoning, and the mother-flavored eggplant noodles are born. After eating a bowl, my stomach warms up. That is my greatest joy and satisfaction when I go home.
　　When I left home the next day, my mother began to arrange for me to eat before I left. Sometimes it was dumplings prepared early in the morning, sometimes it was hot noodle pancakes, and sometimes it was a box of leeks. She shoveled and chopped the chives planted one by one in the vegetable garden, added home-grown eggs and stuffing, and wrapped them in dumpling wrappers, and they became dumplings stuffed with leeks and eggs. If the noodles are cooked, cut the leeks into small pieces and mix with eggs, wrap them in the wake-up noodles and bake them with an electric baking pan, and the fragrant leek stuffing box is ready. Of course, the unfilled hot noodles are rounded and thrown into the oil pan for frying, and the crispy hot noodle oil cakes are out of the pan. One kind of ingredients, but my mother can always make different delicacies. I am like a greedy cat, eating happily, and the wrinkles on my mother’s face bloom happily.
　　Now I work in a foreign land, every holiday, every time I call, my mother always asks if I am going home, and there are food videos recorded by her on WeChat from time to time. It is self-evident that she looks forward to my return, and I give But her answer is always uncertain: “I can’t tell, I should go back!”
　　Whenever I had a previous attack of an old disease, oral ulcers and tonsil inflammation, I was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t speak, and I took medicine and infusions. It didn’t feel better, and I even lost my appetite for meals. I was so hungry that I missed my mother’s herbal tea. When I was at home, whenever I was not feeling well, she would always make me a cup of mother’s brand homemade herbal tea. I always felt that my mother had given magic power to that herbal tea, which is comparable to traditional Chinese medicine. Drinking a bowl would always relieve my symptoms a lot. In the distance away from home, the pain constrains every nerve of mine, and it is extremely difficult to drink a sip of water or eat a bite of food. I dragged my cheeks and said melancholy in front of my friends: “I really want to go home, I want my mother to make it.” Noodles, if you can eat her steamed soft yuqian, drink a bowl of herbal tea!” My
　　friend laughed at me: “You also said that you don’t want to go home, your stomach is much more sincere than your heart!”
　　I was stunned, yes, I kept saying that I didn’t want to go home, but my stomach was much more sincere than my heart. It reacted most authentically with missing food. There is no bowl of mother-flavored herbal tea. It turns out that my unruly and self-willed stomach raised by my mother is much more sincere than my heart, and I always miss home before my heart.