After the eighth year is the year. The footsteps of the New Year are getting closer and closer...
When I was a child, I was looking forward to the New Year, because there are many delicious things in the Spring Festival, although those delicious things are not worth mentioning today, that is, snacks such as peanuts, candy, sunflower seeds and so on. The dinner table is also full, there are ducks and chickens, hooves and fish, you can open your stomach and eat.
That kind of New Year can only become a kind of memory. In today's days, every day is a festival, what you want to eat, as long as it is not whimsical, none of which is difficult. At the end of the year, people think more about finding a holiday resort and freely letting go of their mood. There is also Chinese New Year's Eve meal, it is unlikely to eat at home, early online or telephone booking restaurant... I still think of the Spring Festival when I was a child, especially when my father and mother made meat balls together. Over the years, I have eaten braised, steamed, boiled, fried and other flavors of lion's head in many restaurants, and its taste is not beautiful, but unfortunately I can't eat the taste of meat balls made by my father and mother.
Before each Spring Festival, my mother would prepare in advance, and on the day of the small Chinese New Year's Eve, eat a good dinner, make a fire, and then move her hands when the oil reached the boiling point. At that time, grain, oil, fish, and eggs were in short supply, and pork was naturally no exception, all of which had to be supplied by ticket. My father was actually far away from school and was assigned to the countryside, the Spring Festival is to return to Shanghai, this short more than ten days of family leave is the most joyful time for our family, my father not only brings chicken, duck and pork, beef and some local specialties, at night I can rely on my father's broad chest to listen to stories.
Father has endless stories in his belly, "Romance of the Three Kingdoms", "Water Margin", "Seven Heroes and Five Righteousness" are countless. My father is very good at telling stories, which may be related to his work as a language teacher, painting and coloring, and his voice is full of emotion, often stopping suddenly at the climax: and listen to the next decomposition, sleep! Every time I listened, I itched and begged for another one, and my father usually couldn't stand the pestering, touching my head with love on his face and saying another paragraph.
My father was the first generation of college students in New China, and after graduating from university, he worked at the Nanjing Military Academy for several years, which was the most glorious period of his father's life. In addition to telling me stories, my father would also tell me about the generals he had come into contact with who had made great achievements in battle, which made me full of admiration and admiration...
Among the large bags of agricultural and sideline products that my father brought back, a pig's hind legs were indispensable, which was used to make meat balls. Meat balls are a must-make dish for the Spring Festival, reunion! Every year, my mother made more than a hundred meat balls, and the fried meat balls in the oil pot were placed in two large sand pots, and when she ate them, she took out some and burned them, so that she could eat them for a month.
I remember one year, my father began to chop meat from the afternoon, and the sound of the ding-dong was like beautiful music, and I was fascinated by it. Chop the minced meat, cut it into a few pieces, beat a few eggs, pour some rice wine, stir well with two fritters and chopped green onion and ginger and minced meat, then set aside. Dinner was simple to eat, clean up the dishes and chopsticks, the father put the coal stove into the house, the iron pot rack, poured into most of the pot of vegetable oil, and when the oil pot boiled, the mother squeezed the minced meat into her hand, and used a small spoon to round it into the pot... One by one, the flesh circles floated and danced. It had been midnight since the meat balls were made, and I had been waiting by the fire without a hint of sleepiness, and my father had already seen my thoughts and said to my mother: Let my son taste it. My mother looked at me and smiled lovingly: Good. So my father took out three or five of the freshly made meat balls from the sand pot and put them back into the oil pot, at this time, the meat balls were half cooked, and if they wanted to eat, they had to be fried thoroughly.
That night I ate a dozen in one go, my father's face was full of smiles, the more I ate, the happier he laughed, and kept putting meat balls in the oil pot, my mother stopped it several times, saying that it was okay, I couldn't eat like this, but my father smiled and said: It's okay. I knew my mother was afraid that my stomach would not be able to stand it. That night, my stomach did not eat badly, but I did not sleep until late at night, my stomach was bloated uncomfortably, and I went around in the alley many times before I went to bed.
The meat balls were so delicious, hard, solid, chewy, and flavorful.
The meat balls that our family makes every year are basically eaten by me alone. Year after year, unfortunately I can no longer eat meat balls made by my father and mother... However, their unforgettable love for me without the slightest distraction will not fade with the passage of time!
About author:Wei Fuchun (Fan Sheng) is a member of the Shanghai Writers Association, a member of the China Miniature Novel Society, and a director of the Shanghai Miniature Novel Society. Since 1983, he has published more than 1,000 novels, small novels, prose essays and other newspapers and magazines such as "Budding", "Film and Television Literature", "Novel Circle", "Writer's World", "Short Stories", "Micro Novel Monthly", "Procuratorial Daily", "Jinshan", "China Today", "Liberation Daily", "Literature Newspaper", "Xinmin Evening News" and other newspapers and magazines. His publications include: "Where Dreams Begin" (China Three Gorges Publishing House), "Drifting Summer" (China Literary Association Publishing House), "Perfume Lilies in the Study" (Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House), "Boys and Girls in the Office" (Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House), "There is a Little White Rabbit at the Door" (Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House).
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