我随着父母到城市读书，游历了各地的餐馆，品尝了许多美味佳肴，去找不找当年奶奶薯片的滋味。太多的调味剂，也调弄不出奶奶在食物中添加给我的，纯粹的爱。
I followed my parents to the city to study, traveled to various restaurants, tasted many delicious dishes, and searched for the taste of my grandmother's potato chips back then. There are too many seasonings, and I can't mix the pure love that my grandmother added to my food.
仍记得儿时我每次看着电视机中的薯片，常常流下不争气的口水，奶奶好像看出了我的心思，便常带我去深山挖土豆，为我炸薯片。
I still remember when I was a child, every time I looked at potato chips on the TV, I would drool uncontrollably. My grandmother seemed to see my thoughts and often took me to the deep mountains to dig potatoes and fry potato chips for me.
起锅，烧油，油慢慢滑落在黑乎乎的锅底，迸溅出的油花好像在呼喊着土豆跟它一起享受着高温的“桑拿”。一片片薄薄的土豆片迫不及待成为薯片，从锅旁滑到油中，跟油有来一场盛夏的约会，“滋滋”的油声可见约会的喧闹。一会儿后，油慢慢地平静下来，土豆中的水分已被炸干，可以出锅了。出锅的薯片好像披上了一层金黄色的盔甲，在这黑色的锅的映衬下显得如此夺目。没有多样的调味剂，没有华丽的摆盘，却馋得我直流口水。< Www.zuOwEnBa.NET >
Start the pot, heat the oil, and the oil slowly slides down to the dark bottom of the pot. The splashing oil droplets seem to be shouting for potatoes to enjoy the hot "sauna" with them. Thin potato slices eagerly turn into potato chips, sliding from the pot into the oil, having a summer date with the oil. The sizzling sound of the oil reflects the noise of the date. After a while, the oil slowly calmed down and the water in the potatoes had been fried dry, ready to be taken out of the pot. The potato chips that come out of the pot seem to be covered in a layer of golden armor, making them so eye-catching against the backdrop of this black pot. There are no diverse seasonings, no fancy displays, yet my mouth is watering with desire.
当薯片端上桌上时，如宝石般璀璨的薯片好像给普通的瓷碗镀上了层金，煞是耀眼。油香冲击着鼻腔，不断勾引着我的鼻子靠近，我伸出“罪恶”的双手，却被滚烫的油渍劝退，奶奶在旁边，帮我吹着红乎乎的双手，道：“我都跟你说了那么多遍，你得冷下来再吃。”不一会，薯片开始暗淡下来，我拿着筷子将薯片折断，放入口中，薯片那清脆的声音如同给我耳朵按摩。一口下去，油与淀粉紧密相连，在我口中不断相融，不断分散，最后再结合一起，好像历经世界苦难之后，才知道彼此的爱。从口中滑到胃中，我品尝到了来自大自然的馈赠，来自奶奶的爱。
When the potato chips are served on the table, they shine like gems, as if they have coated an ordinary porcelain bowl with a layer of gold, making it dazzling. The fragrance of oil hit my nasal cavity, constantly tempting my nose closer. I extended my "sinful" hands, but was deterred by the scorching oil stains. My grandmother was beside me, blowing my red hands and saying, "I've told you so many times, you have to cool down before eating." Soon, the potato chips began to dim. I took my chopsticks and broke them, putting them in my mouth. The crisp sound of the potato chips was like massaging my ears. As soon as I took a sip, the oil and starch were tightly connected, constantly blending and dispersing in my mouth, and finally combining again, as if we had only known each other's love after experiencing the hardships of the world. Sliding from my mouth to my stomach, I tasted the gift from nature, the love from my grandmother.
奶奶几乎每次以同样的手法给我炸薯片，我却几乎每次品尝到的薯片的味道都有所不同，甚至有时同一晚的薯片都会有不同的味道。可能是山里土豆成熟的程度不同，也可能是因为油味的不同，但我认为是奶奶每次对我的爱不同，爱的愈发深沉。
My grandmother almost always uses the same technique to fry potato chips for me, but the taste of the chips I taste almost every time is different, and sometimes even the same night's chips have different flavors. Perhaps it's because the maturity of potatoes in the mountains is different, or maybe it's because of the different oil flavors, but I think it's because my grandmother's love for me is different every time, and her love becomes deeper and deeper.
这四年，光阴似箭，日月如梭，我沉沦在时间的汪洋大海中，已经没有回过老家一次，没有同奶奶在一屋檐下品尝他那独特的薯片。
In these four years, time flies like an arrow, and the sun and moon shuttle like a shuttle. I have been lost in the vast ocean of time, and I have never returned to my hometown or tasted his unique potato chips with my grandmother under the same roof.