夏之涩撩开记忆的面纱,儿时居住过的小镇朦朦胧胧,仿佛有雾气环绕其中,一片安宁祥和。嘘,悄悄,一双粗糙的大手伸向冒着热气的蒸笼,“霍”地打开,趁着雾气的掩护似的,包子的香味阵阵钻入鼻孔,引人垂涎。依稀记得早晨街上的热闹景象。油条们在油锅里扭动自己逐渐变得金黄的身子;馄饨在碗里悠闲泡澡, Summer astringent lifted the veil of memory, the town lived in childhood hazy, as if surrounded by fog, a peaceful and peaceful. Shh, quietly, a pair of rough hands stretched toward steam steamer, “Huo” to open, taking advantage of the cover of the misty, buns bursts of bursts of bursts into the nose, coveted. Vaguely remember the lively scene in the morning street. Fritters in the pan twist their gradually become golden body; wonton in the bowl leisurely bath,