"Don't bother to talk, work quickly." Wu Cuimei couldn't listen as she listened to the two men discussing other people's affairs. "The winter solstice will be tomorrow. Do you want to wait until tomorrow to work?"

"What are you doing?" Liu Qingshan asked, "Mom, what do you want me to do?"

"Cuanshan, chop the filling, Yuanhe, you are responsible for brushing the grapefruit leaves, and I am the noodles." Wu Cuimei seemed to be a god-general falling from the sky, wearing a brand new apron, which was very majestic.

She can't do the work outside, but the work in the kitchen is all her specialty.

According to my mother's instructions, Liu Qingshan found fresh winter bamboo shoots, white radish, pork, dried mushrooms, dried tangerine peel and other foods that had been prepared before. After cleaning, he chopped them all, then put them in a pot and stir-fry them in a fragrant pot, and add an appropriate amount of seasoning.

My father sat on the stone threshold of the main hall, carefully brushing the grapefruit leaves.

My mother kneaded noodles in the kitchen.

When Liu Qingshan prepared the filling, she had already made a golden dough with glutinous rice flour, boiling water and gardenia.

"Is the filling good, are the leaves good? I'm going to start making glutinous rice cakes." Wu Cuimei urged.

Liu Qingshan quickly brought the stuffing that had just been out of the pot to his mother: "Mom, look, how about the stuffing I fried?"

Wu Cuimei frowned and stared at the dark stuffing, and asked with a squinted look: "Did you put the dark soy sauce as a light soy sauce?"

Liu Qingshan: "Hehe, mom, your nose is so sharp that you can smell it."

"What the hell, you can see it yourself. It's black. If it's either fried or burnt or put up soy sauce, you said you are in your twenties and still can't tell the difference between soy sauce?"

Liu Qingshan wanted to take credit, but unexpectedly, his mother scolded him and had to run away in shame.

As soon as he walked away, Liu Yuanhe brought a basket of clean green pomelo leaves and laughed and said, "Look, I've washed enough this time, so I'll hurry up. There's no white bird shit, and no spider webs."

Wu Cuimei glanced at the shiny and glowing leaves, grabbed one, turned it over, and lit the back of the leaves to Liu Yuanhe: "How is the mud and sand behind this? Where are your eyes growing? Can't you see so much mud and sand? Take it back and re-made."

Liu Yuanhe obediently picked up the basket and returned to the stone threshold of the main hall.

"Dad, my mother's old problem has been broken again." Liu Qingshan came over and said in a low voice.

Liu Yuanhe nodded and said in a low voice: "I guess tomorrow will be more serious."

"What are you saying? Qingshan, you have nothing to do, right?" Wu Cuimei shouted from the kitchen, "You have nothing to do, just marinate the pork your father bought in the morning. Tomorrow morning, I will see the bacon hanging on the stove."

Liu Qingshan stuck out his tongue and quickly did things as his mother told him.

Marinating bacon is very simple.

At least, it's very simple for a foodie.

Or, it is very simple for a young man who grew up in a foodie family.

I don’t know what dynasty such as bacon has been traced back to.

But in Liu Qingshan's memory, he can only trace back to his grandfather's generation.

When I was a child, my grandfather would buy a lot of pork the day before the winter solstice every year.

At that time, the pork was not as expensive as it is now, and it was very cheap. Only "high-quality meat" such as chicken, duck and fish were expensive.

My grandfather helped people with illness. Although his income was not high, he still could take out a sum of money every year and buy some pork to make bacon.

After buying the pork, grandfather took him to the stream in the yard. The grandfather and grandson each held a basin.

Grandpa’s basin was heavy pork, and his basin was made of kitchen knives, chopping boards, knifes, salt and other things.

When they arrived by the stream, they squatted by the stream together to clean the pork.

"Qingshan, this pork needs to be washed like this. Look at me, use the blade to gently scrape its skin. Whatever is scraped off is all dirty."

When grandpa took a kitchen knife, he took a knife to follow suit.

After washing the pork, my grandfather carefully removed the bones in the pork. The serious look seemed to be carving a high-quality handicraft.

Remove the bones, cut the pork into strips, and sprinkle the salt on the pork and rub it all over it.

Afterwards, my grandfather sprinkled rice wine, soy sauce and five-spice powder into the meat as if he was magical. Then, the pork slowly changed color under the rubbing of his big hands.

The next morning, my grandfather took him into the mountain to cut back two leaves of wild palm trees, then cut off the slender leaves with scissors, clean them, and then boil them in boiling water.

The pork that has been marinated for one night must be boiled in boiling water. When the meat becomes whiter, the wild brown leaves will be passed through the pork, tied a knot, strung on a piece of wood, and hung them on the stove that is on fire.

At that time, people in the mountains generally had a hard time, so if anyone pickled bacon, it would be a shameful thing.

Therefore, in order to save face, many people would rather not eat pork for a month than marinate bacon and then hang it high on the stove.

What's more, in order to let others see their own marinated bacon without entering the door, every morning, on any day when it doesn't rain, you have to hang more than ten pieces of bacon in the yard, so that the row of bacon is lazy and comfortable to dry the warm winter day like an old man and an old lady.

When the villagers passing by saw each other, they could not help but praise them.

Of course, my grandfather never did this kind of thing.

When I think of the bacon marinated by my grandfather, I can’t help but think of the bacon braised rice.

Cut the bacon into small slices and place it in the rice to steam. The moment you lift the lid of the pot, it smells really fragrant. There is a meaty smell in the mouth of the rice, and the meaty smells in the mouth of the rice, which is full of fragrance and fills the kitchen.

Although bacon is delicious, you can’t eat too much. Grandpa said that good things must be kept and eaten slowly, and it must be flowing smoothly.

I think that my grandfather's generation was such a frugal life. Back then, during the difficult days, he could always process limited food and turn it into delicious and unforgettable dishes. This not only brought taste enjoyment to the tip of his tongue, but also brought indelible beauty to his long-lasting memories.

However, when I was young, I didn’t understand the difficulties of life and the original intention of pickling bacon. I just thought it was to prevent the meat from rotting and smelling, or to eat delicious food for a long time after the New Year, just like the festive winter lasted for a long time.

However, when Liu Qingshan grew up, he realized that 90% of the bacon had been put into his stomach. It was his turn to eat it when he had left it. My dad and mom could only eat it occasionally.

I still remember one time when he ate a lot of bacon, his cheeks were bulging, his mouth was full of oil, and he looked at his parents curiously and asked, "Dad, mom, bacon is so fragrant and delicious, why don't you eat it?"

My mother put a piece of bacon into his bowl and said with a smile: "Oh, the bacon is too hard, your dad and I can't eat it. Qingshan, eat more."

"Yes, if we eat our teeth, your grandfather will not be able to cure it." Dad also smiled.

Grandpa laughed too, and everyone laughed.

In those hearty laughter, the New Year has gone away unknowingly, and the childhood has gone away unknowingly.

It was not until his grandfather left and he grew up that he realized what a gentle lie it was.
Chapter completed!