GRANDMA'S FAMILY FOOD

Of course, it is different from my grandmother's house, and this one is not Su Che cuisine, it should belong to Sichuan and Guizhou local cuisine, because basically every dish is spicy, but it is very popular and there is often a queue.

Near the entrance of Ziyin Tunnel, right next to the hotel where we stayed, we were too lazy to walk so we had lunch here. There were not many people, the environment was OK, and it was a bit ancient. You order dishes by looking at the dishes and picking up bamboo sticks. When the dishes are served, the waiter will bring a bucket of rice to the table. If you don't want to eat it, just ask the waiter to take it away, otherwise you will probably have to pay for it. [Secret Braised Pork] This is not spicy, the bamboo shoots are very tender, and the meat is cut into small pieces, but it is a bit fat and not crispy enough. The aroma will be stronger if it is more flavorful. [Spicy Chicken with Blood] Spicy, the blood is very tender, but a bit broken. [Hot Mixed Organic Vegetables] The taste is good, and it relieves greasiness and spiciness. [Earth Pot Chicken] When you order the dishes, it is placed in a "chicken". It looks good, but the actual amount is not as much as you see. The chicken pieces are cut too small. Although it is easy to taste, it is too troublesome to eat and it is difficult to choose. [Farmer's Pork Liver] The pork liver slices are very thin and tender. [Steamed Dumplings] Dim sum, the taste is nothing special. Guizhou cuisine is generally heavy in oil and spicy, and almost every dish is filled with peppercorns, garlic, ginger, chili peppers, etc. If you can't eat spicy food, you can ask the waiter to make it less spicy when ordering. The price of the dishes is moderate.

Boss, a light purple thermos bottle was lost at table number 7 tonight. Go pick it up tomorrow.

The taste is good, the environment is clean and the service is good.

Life is a dream of being yourself When the night deepens, I always like to stand in front of the window and look at the lights of the city. Those flickering lights are like countless choices in life, some are bright and dazzling, some are gentle and weak, but they are all flashing on their own tracks. Suddenly I understand that life may be a long dream, and we are learning how to be true to ourselves in this dream all our lives. The dreams of childhood are the purest. I remember that in the art class in kindergarten, the teacher asked us to draw "the future self". Other children drew astronauts, doctors or scientists, but I drew a field full of dandelions, and a little girl flying a kite sat in the middle of the field. The teacher smiled and asked me: "Is this the person you want to be?" I nodded vigorously: "I want to chase the wind every day." At that time, the dream did not need worldly judgment or utilitarian considerations, but the most genuine desire in my heart jumped on the paper. We are like new buds that have just broken through the ground, with innate stubbornness, stretching our branches undisguisedly. But growth always leaves dust on dreams. After entering school, we began to be defined by various standards: grades must be among the best, specialties must be impressive, and personality must be liked by teachers. In order to cater to the label of "good student", I locked the drawing paper in the drawer and forced myself to struggle in the sea of Olympiad questions; in order to integrate into the group, I learned to talk about topics I didn't like and wore popular shoes that didn't fit. Just like encountering a fork in the road in a dream, we always think that we won't go wrong if we follow the direction of the crowd, but we gradually lose ourselves in the crowded crowd. One night, I was sorting out old things and turned to the painting of dandelions. Suddenly, I remembered that I used to like the sound of the wind passing by my ears so much, and my eyes were unconsciously wet. The world after adulthood is more like a bizarre dream. We look for our own position in the coordinate system of society and measure the value of life with salary, position, and house. At the class reunion, everyone talked about promotions and salary increases, and the price of school district housing. I sat in the corner and suddenly couldn't understand these once familiar languages. A friend admitted after drinking that he gave up his ten-year musical dream and took over his father's company, just because "this is what an adult should be like." Looking at his tired eyes, I remembered that every time I wrote a proposal, I would unconsciously add a few insignificant lyrical words at the end. Those sensibilities hidden under the rational shell may be the dreams that I don't want to wake up from deep in my heart. Until that summer, I stayed at my grandmother's house in the countryside. I was awakened by the birdsong in the early morning, opened the window and saw the wild chrysanthemums all over the mountains, and suddenly I had the urge to pick up a pen and paint. In the old wooden box at my grandmother's house, there were still my painting tools from middle school. The paint had long dried up, but the brush was still intact. I sat on the doorstep and painted the scenery in front of me in the morning light. There was no delicate composition or harmonious colors in the painting, only arbitrary lines and blocks of color of varying shades. The moment I finished painting, a long-lost sense of relief came to my heart, as if the burden that had been weighing on my shoulders for many years suddenly disappeared. It turns out that being yourself does not require earth-shattering courage, you only need to listen to the voice of your heart at a certain moment. Every choice in life is to outline this dream. Some people play the perfect role in the expectations of others, but lick their wounds alone in the middle of the night; some people insist on being independent in the eyes of the world, but live the way they like. In fact, dreams will never really disappear, they are just waiting for us to stop and listen carefully to the voice of our hearts. Just like dandelion seeds, even if they are blown to strange places by the wind, they will always find soil suitable for their growth. Today, I am still rigorous and serious at work, but I have also learned to be myself in my spare time. I will make a cup of tea on the afternoon of the weekend and draw a painting that will not be evaluated; I will take a walk in the park in the evening and watch the sunset dye the sky into a gentle orange; I will write a few paragraphs in the dead of night to record those unknown feelings. These seemingly insignificant moments make the dream of life become clearer. There is no standard answer or fixed script for the dream of life. We don't have to live the way others expect us to live, and we don't have to compromise ourselves in the secular framework. Being yourself means that after recognizing the truth of life, you still keep your inner purity; after experiencing the vicissitudes of life, you still retain your original love. When we learn to reconcile with ourselves and learn to accept our imperfect selves, this dream will bloom with the most moving brilliance. May we all live up to the years and ourselves in this long dream and live the way we like. After all, the most beautiful scenery in life has always been on the road to being ourselves. When we move forward with our original intentions, we will find that those who have been lost have long been at the intersection ahead, smiling and waiting for reunion. And this dream about being yourself is worth our lifelong pursuit, protection, and realization. #My City Dragon Boat Race has multiple volumes #The scenery on the road