The Room 208 Blog

I remember my mom cooking. Well, we were not a rich family when I was little. We lived a simple life and never had the chance to experience many modern thrills and pleasures. However, we knew how to appreciate little joys, like eating my mother’s cooking. My mother was a great cook. With the best cookware set she owned, which was a rather cheap one, my mother could make cuisines. Every mealtime was a happy moment when lovely stew and potatoes were served with the enchanting aroma of what could be called mother’s love. Whenever a special day came up, she would always make us something equivalent to five-star cuisine.