恒耀主管一碗捞面条中英文版

2018-11-13    分类:恒耀操作系统    0人评论0294次浏览

到洛阳出差一周了。

下午忙完,我便决定回趟老家。夕阳余光游走在城市楼房的轮廓中,呆板大街上车来人往。我不喜欢城里的热闹,会吓跑夕阳,家里这时候,风是轻的,田野是静的,夕阳是害羞的。

大巴车只到镇上,离老家还有十里路。一下车就听到有人喊我,是父亲。父亲一手接过我行李,一手拿着手机说话:“接到了,接到了,我们就回来。”说罢把电话递给我。电话里母亲问我晚饭想吃什么,我说:“妈,我想吃你擀的捞面条。”

门前小土坡在夜色下显得有些陌生而拘谨,似乎把我当成远方客人。得知我要回来,一进门就看到母亲正朝着门口快步走来,她打量着我一直笑,拉我进屋。

“快坐下,坐车很难受吧?”母亲像个得到心爱玩具后的孩子般兴奋,我便坐在沙发上。

“去洗洗手吧,一路上出汗多”,我刚要起身,母亲又赶忙示意我别动,对我说:“我给你端来,你别起来。”不等我回话,转身到院子里了。

母亲端来水,递给我毛巾,转身又小跑着到厨房去了。我知道母亲在给我做捞面。记得初中时候一天上午放学,由于母亲忙农活做饭晚了,我一生气准备不吃饭就上学去。母亲也是这样让我坐着,转身小跑到厨房为我做捞面。

吃了无数次母亲做的捞面,但从没认真看过她擀面条的样子。想到这里,我轻轻来到院子里,厨房门开着,我站在离厨房几米远的地方,正好可以看到母亲。

厨房里装的还是以前那种白织灯,夜色包围下加上腾空的水蒸气,白织灯散发的昏黄光线显得有点力不从心。母亲就在灯下,正用擀面杖擀面,擀面杖很粗大,她似乎要用很大的力气。面团在前后滚动的擀面杖下由崎岖粗糙变得慢慢平整,终于像一张纸一样平铺在案板上。就像从小到大我走过的路,多少荆棘坑洼,都被母亲用双手铺平。

我想母亲以前肯定也是这样擀面条,唯一变化的是她双手,曾经也是白嫩光滑,如今粗糙布满老茧。母亲突然抬头看到我了,急忙出来,问我是不是饿的受不住了。

我慌忙之间连句完整的话也说不出,只对她摇摇头,不再看她,一个人回到屋里,坐下等着。

不一会母亲就端着一大碗捞面走进来,我起身要去接,她大叫:“你别动,碗很烫。”我便又坐下来。她把碗放在我面前,递给我筷子,催着我赶紧吃。

母亲总是这样,吃饭时候总要催促我趁热吃。以前听到她催,心里总是一阵怨气,偏慢吞吞不紧不慢,任由她唠叨。今日我却拿起筷子,夹起面条送到嘴里。

“别那么大口,小心烫着。”

我点点头。

“对对,放点醋,这样好吃,我去拿。”

她转身去厨房拿来醋,给我碗里倒。

“怎么样,淡不淡,再放点盐?”

我摇摇头。

“吃肉啊,那是我专门放面里的,快吃!”

我夹起一块肉吃在嘴里,她这才算满意,站在一边看我吃。我没有劝母亲去吃饭,因为我知道,我没吃完,她不肯去。

一碗面吃完,汗水顺着脸颊淌下,这捞面味道,一半在嘴里,香而纯,另一半在心里,有点酸楚。一小滴液体流进嘴里,涩涩的,咸咸的,不知道是汗,还是我眼角渗出的泪。

恒耀注册以下为英文版本

I have been on a business trip to Luoyang for a week.

In the afternoon, I decided to go back to my hometown. In the silhouette of the city buildings, the afterglow of the sunset is coming from the rigid streets. I don’t like the bustle in the city. It scares away the sunset. At home, the wind is light, the fields are quiet, and the sunset is shy.

The bus only goes to the town, ten miles from home. When I got off the train, I heard someone calling me, my father. My father took my luggage in one hand and talked on his mobile phone in the other: “Yes, we will come back when we receive it.” Just give me the phone. The mother asked me what I wanted to eat for dinner, and I said, “Mom, I want to eat the noodles you rolled.”

The small slope in front of the door seemed strange and restrained under the night, and seemed to regard me as a distant visitor. Knowing that I was coming back, I saw my mother walking quickly towards the door. She looked at me and laughed all the time and pulled me into the room.

“Sit down. Is it hard to ride a bus?” My mother was as excited as the child who got the toy, so I sat on the sofa.

“Go wash your hands and sweat a lot all the way.” I was just getting up, and my mother quickly motioned me to stay still and said to me, “I’ll bring it to you, you don’t get up.” Before I could answer, I turned to the yard.

Mother came to the water, gave me towels, turned and trotted to the kitchen. I knew my mother was making noodles for me. I remember that one morning in junior high school, because my mother was busy with farm work and cooked late, I got angry and prepared to go to school without eating. Mother also let me sit, turn around and trot to the kitchen to make noodles for me.

She has eaten countless times of her mother’s noodles, but never looked at her noodles. Think of this, I gently came to the yard, the kitchen door open, I stood a few meters away from the kitchen, just can see my mother.

The kitchen is equipped with the same kind of white weaving lamp as before, surrounded by night and vapor, the dim light emitted by the white weaving lamp seems to be somewhat inadequate. The mother was rolling under the lamp and rolling with a rolling pin. The rolling pin was very thick. It seemed that she needed a lot of effort. The dough rolled back and forth under the rolling pin from rough to smooth, and eventually spread like a piece of paper on the board. Just like the road I walked through from small to large, how many thorns and potholes were paved by my mother’s hands.

I think my mother used to roll noodles like this, the only change is her hands, once white and smooth, now rough and cocoon-covered. My mother suddenly looked up and saw me. She hurried out and asked if I was hungry.

I couldn’t say a complete sentence in my hurry. I shook my head at her and stopped looking at her. I went back to the house and sat down and waited.

Soon my mother came in with a big bowl of noodles, and I got up to pick it up. She shouted, “Don’t move, the bowl is very hot.” I sat down again. She put the bowl in front of me, handed me the chopsticks, hurried me to hurry to eat.

Mother always does this, always urge me to eat while hot. In the past, when she heard her hurry, she was always in a state of complaint. She was slow and slow, allowing her to nagging. Today, I picked up the chopsticks and put the noodles in my mouth.

“Don’t be so big and scald.”

I nodded.

“Yes, put some vinegar. It’s so tasty. I’ll fetch it.”

She turned to the kitchen and brought vinegar, and poured it into my bowl.

“How do you like it? Do you want some salt?”

I shook my head.

“Eat meat. That’s what I put in my noodles. Eat quickly!”

I picked up a piece of meat and ate it in my mouth. She was satisfied, standing aside and watching me eat. I didn’t persuade my mother to go to dinner, because I knew that she would not go after I had not finished eating.

After eating a bowl of noodles, sweat flowed down the cheeks. Half of the noodles tasted sweet and pure in the mouth, while the other half was sour in the heart. A small drop of liquid flowed into my mouth, astringent, salty, I don’t know whether it was sweat or tears from the corners of my eyes.

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本文作者:恒耀娱乐招商

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