The question “Do you like it?” or “Does it taste good?” is something I often ask and “I love it” is what I long for. To find someone in a kindred spirit is not difficult, maybe just a preference of flavors. Pepper, chili, sugar, and salt season food, but they also connect me and my family. Create a circle on the table with flour; pour hot and cold water into the circle; knead the dough until it is no longer tacky. Stuffing is essential. Flavors the ground pork with salt, it reduces bitterness; sugar accentuates the sweetness of the meat; pepper adds pungency; soy sauce gives it a lustrous color and freshens the filling. This is what makes up our taste. After filling the meat into the dough, I fried the buns carefully. The sizzling of buns gradually lightens, meaning water was required. While making the bun, the sky had already begun to darken. The pan-fried bun was done, and I called my mom for the first taste. “Does it taste good?” I asked, waiting for her response. “This is what I am looking for!” she exclaimed, amazed, “It is so close to what my father made when I was a child.” Flavor and texture are unique, and they are what make up my memory. Cooking is more than just preparing food; it's also a way to bond with my family; cuisine shapes the taste of time and home. Regular ingredients are combined to produce different dishes, but each dish is bursting with flavor. The joy and expectation overflow when flour becomes dough, pork becomes stuffing. The memory of taste guides me, telling me what to add to get closer to the goal. If you share a similar taste with someone, they may become your best friend. The memory of home is kept even after I leave, and similar tastes can trigger the memory - the taste of home.