Autumn winds have brought the cold of the first winter, and the best thing to miss is my mom's cooking. The bowls clean up the noodles, the smoothy paste of the hand, the fresh fragrance of the soup, the warmness, the sips, the satisfaction not only of the tired body, but also of the tired heart for life. When you can't eat your mother's pasta outside, you'll be able to ferment it with a goldfish fermented emptiness, and make it soft and strong, easy to taste, easy to absorb and easier to make. That's good. It's the smell of home in memory
