When I was a child, my family was poor.
The number of times you eat meat in a year is only a handful.
Grandma eats once on the anniversary.
Eat once on August 15.
Eat a meat dish for the New Year.
The rest is to eat dumplings.
Dumplings at that time.
It is to squeeze a large pot of white radish.
Chop a little bit of fat the size of a fist and add it to it.
It tastes better than boiled noodles in plain water.
A piece of knife head meat.
After the fifth day of junior high school, grandma will cut and copy.
Marinate into a small bowl.
When there are guests, they will dig out some stew.
The rest of the little bit of meat was left for Grandpa.
Every time my grandfather ate meat, he would take special care of me.
Call me over and clip me a big piece and put it in your mouth.
That piece of meat is in the innermost part of me.
Chew back and forth and turn without swallowing.
Reluctant. It's so fragrant.
I hid in a corner.
Fell asleep. The piece of meat in the mouth was still nesting inside.
The smell of that piece of meat.
Traveled through time and space to the present.
Flipping back and forth in my brain.
Seduced my nerves.
Prompted me to go to the market where the meat was boiled.
Tasted a number of stalls.
I didn't eat the meaty aroma that I had at the beginning.
Go to a large supermarket.
spent dozens of dollars to cut a pound of local pork.
Go home and wash carefully.
First salted for more than half an hour.
Add some flour and start grabbing.
Put it in the pot and add the natural seasoning.
Build an earthen stove, add dry firewood, boil over low heat, and simmer again.
After cooking, I can't wait to take it out.
Use an electric fan on the board to cool off.
Cut a piece and dip it in minced garlic.
I heard that this is the most beautiful taste.
It's a pity that after the entrance.
It's still not as fragrant as the piece of meat that my grandfather talked about when I was a child.
What's going on. It's pigs that don't raise well.
Or is there a problem with the feed for the pigs.
Or the way of cooking is not the right way.
Or is it the problem that my sense of taste changes as I get older.
When I was guessing, I heard the old man say something.
Now people eat big fish and meat every day, and live the days of gods every day.
No matter how delicious things are, they don't taste as delicious as they did when I was a child.
Oh, got it.
It turned out that I had eaten too much in transit.