You Want to Read My Story and Exchange for this Classic French Toast
by Table dinner
Favorite
Difficulty
Easy
Time
15m
Serving
2
Perhaps it is the idols who live in seclusion in the mountains and forests have a special worship. When traveling, I always like to live in a quiet and remote inn, and return home at night, with all the small shops behind closed doors.
In contrast to the hustle and bustle of living in the urban-rural fringe, there are people opening a shop downstairs at 4 in the morning, which can be said to be never night.
Going home to Ching Ming, it was the small courtyard where I lived more than ten years ago. I walked a section of railroad tracks and watched a few trains roaring. The flute sound of this kind of train seemed to reflect my mood.
If someone asked me at this time, if there is an afterlife, you can transform into anything, what do you hope it is?
I said: I hope to be the only Populus euphratica in the desert and grow proudly, no matter how strong the wind is.
When traveling, I was always alone. I borrowed the kitchen of the hotel owner’s balcony to cook. At night, I chopped some green onions, beat an egg, made a bowl of Yangchun noodles, and put some local farmer’s homemade millet vinegar.
For supper, cut two more steamed buns, mixed with spicy bean paste, and stir-fry a full bowl with cola.
I can't remember when I started working hard every day, and I no longer have time to go out and let myself go. But my xinxing just loves to play.
I love staying on a bed, a small island in Yunnan, or a seaside in Xiamen, an open-air tea house in Jinli, Chengdu, or a bookstore on Shaoxing Road in Shanghai, walking, dazing, thinking about life.
Then, on a sunny spring morning, when I woke up naturally, I took a few slices of toast from the cupboard, sprinkled enough cinnamon according to my taste, and fried them, luxuriously filled with fruits and topped with maple syrup. Pretend to be a plate of delicate muffins.
But the taste far exceeds that of a pancake in a well-known restaurant in a reinforced concrete city.
I think it's not the taste but the mood to win.
In contrast to the hustle and bustle of living in the urban-rural fringe, there are people opening a shop downstairs at 4 in the morning, which can be said to be never night.
Going home to Ching Ming, it was the small courtyard where I lived more than ten years ago. I walked a section of railroad tracks and watched a few trains roaring. The flute sound of this kind of train seemed to reflect my mood.
If someone asked me at this time, if there is an afterlife, you can transform into anything, what do you hope it is?
I said: I hope to be the only Populus euphratica in the desert and grow proudly, no matter how strong the wind is.
When traveling, I was always alone. I borrowed the kitchen of the hotel owner’s balcony to cook. At night, I chopped some green onions, beat an egg, made a bowl of Yangchun noodles, and put some local farmer’s homemade millet vinegar.
For supper, cut two more steamed buns, mixed with spicy bean paste, and stir-fry a full bowl with cola.
I can't remember when I started working hard every day, and I no longer have time to go out and let myself go. But my xinxing just loves to play.
I love staying on a bed, a small island in Yunnan, or a seaside in Xiamen, an open-air tea house in Jinli, Chengdu, or a bookstore on Shaoxing Road in Shanghai, walking, dazing, thinking about life.
Then, on a sunny spring morning, when I woke up naturally, I took a few slices of toast from the cupboard, sprinkled enough cinnamon according to my taste, and fried them, luxuriously filled with fruits and topped with maple syrup. Pretend to be a plate of delicate muffins.
But the taste far exceeds that of a pancake in a well-known restaurant in a reinforced concrete city.
I think it's not the taste but the mood to win.
