Our first task is to "fan the flames". Because the barbecue fire was too small, we took out a fan and fanned it hard at the tuyere. Unexpectedly, the little flame hid like hide-and-seek with us. Just when we were at a loss, a small Mars poked its head shyly, which rekindled our hope.

This time, we decided to cooperate, and several classmates and I became "chefs"-responsible for barbecue. I picked up a chicken wing, gently broke the chicken wing and the tip of the chicken wing, and then inserted it into a fork, which became a "human" shape. While I put the chicken wings on the stove, I boasted in front of my classmates, "I often help my mother cook at home, which is definitely the best I baked." As soon as the voice fell, there was an unpleasant burning smell. When I took a closer look, it burned. Aroused the laughter of several students around. My face suddenly turned red like a ripe apple, and I hung my head shyly.

Looking at the black chicken wings in my hand that look like I just "enjoyed" a sunshine bath in Africa, I thought: I can't believe it's not well baked. So I decided to "make a comeback". I have just learned a "painful" lesson. I first coated the chicken wings with a thin layer of oil and carefully put them in the oven. I turn my wrist from time to time. When the chicken wings slowly changed from white to light yellow, an attractive fragrance came to the nose. I quickly dipped in some seasoning and spread it evenly on the chicken wings. soon