When the north is cold and snowy, the winter in our south is too late, and even though it is too late, these days feel silky. It's the best day for a hot, warm stomach dish. Autumn shears tofu, rich in gravy, acupuncture sticky, accompanied by screechy, and accompanied by eggs. They're still rich and nutritious, they're not greasy, and don't miss them。
"Sweet radish and hag" and "Autumn wind" are ripe seasons. Every time I go to the market and see a big, fat, white radish, I can't help but miss my mom and dad's radish cake. My family is in the Pearl Triangle, and the local radish is very good, sweet and juicy, and every time we get to spring, our people make three or five bowls of radish cakes, taco cakes, and treats, but my favorite is radish cake. My radish cake is particularly delicious, and the secret is that Mom makes the rice from the stone of her home slowly and with heart, plus Dad's technology and mastery of the mass of all the ingredients, making the radish cake so soft, so salty, and I can't help but eat it every time I get out of the oven, and I'll fry the breakfast in a pan and smell good. But after six years of dad's death, my mom wasn't in the mood to make these cakes alone, but I recently came up with moths and asked her to go over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, I managed to master the successful course of carrot cake. Now write about the sharing of radish cakes。