spicy Recipe

Pepper sauce

Pepper sauce

VicentaLakin

As a rural, home-grown sister, potato silk, radish, pepper sauce, with me growing up, mothers and fathers working on farm work every day, early and late, two meals a day, breakfast is always a pot of corn rice, because seven people at home, parents and five of our brothers and sisters are going to eat seven people a day, and soon (when I'm on a board, I'm going to work) so I can just warm up, make a cold meal (or make a very simple handbread) and finish it in 15 minutes, and then the mother goes to the kitchen, take a break, and then the mother comes home, and when the mother finishes, we're going to work together, we're going to work every day, until I've almost enough time on the board, and I'm going to have a little bit of hot sauce at home, but I'm going to have a little bit of hot sauce, but I'm going to go back to my neighbor's house, and I'm going to be a little bit of it, but I'm going to do it, but I'm going to be a little hot, but I。
Chicken

Chicken

VicentaLakin

Why do you call it a dish? It had to start in eight years, when I was only three or four years old, when my dad took me to the train, when it wasn't easy, when the train station was so far away from home, 30 kilometers away, and he was riding me on two or eight bikes! At noon, we had lunch in a small town restaurant. It's the first time I've had dinner with my dad! I like chicken. He ordered a rooster! After that, I picked up the plate and licked it! He even tried to stop me, because when did he say flowers to lick dishes? The boss saw it and smiled and said, "How's Uncle's cooking? Dad was embarrassed to say, "Sorry, kid, naughty, but your chicken is really good and we can't make it. How do you do it? I'll learn." "There's nothing to learn, just mix it up!" Dad was kind enough to say thank you. Actually, the boss didn't say anything about the process. On the way home, Dad said to me, "Go and kill a chicken today, I'll cook for you!" I'm better at eating than at lunch at the restaurant! I said it was the restaurant owner. Dad turned his face and said, "Hmm! The boss was hiding, and after eating, I knew what he had inside and came back to figure it out. I made it taste better than him. He might make it hot, and I'm cooking it better than him." Since then, if you kill a chicken at home, you'll get half of it mixed, half of it cooked or burned! Once she came to the house and ate the chicken he made and said she never had it. It tasted so good. It tasted better than a restaurant! From now on, Dad's brand-new chicken has been here ever since