At 6 o'clock this morning, I drove to the county seat of my husband's hometown. Find a place to have some breakfast and go to my husband's and niece's house to sleep. After nine o'clock, my husband and his family went to process pork. At two o'clock in the afternoon, the old public car picked me up with my son and my husband and niece's son to eat meat over there. So I saw how to burn meat.
The roast requires three iron pots, a stewed pig's head, a sugar-colored one, and a fried pork. It is the leaves and roots that are burned. This is made of iron pot firewood, and no high-tech materials are used. The order is to directly take raw meat and roll it inside the hot sugar color two or three times, then put it in the oil pan and fry it over high heat, and when the surface of the pork looks cooked, take it out and put it in a coarse salt basin, sprinkle salt with bare hands, and wait for the surface of the meat to be stained with a lot of salt to succeed. It felt like three busy and not chaotic, about five or six people working, because some people were doing the aid, and some people opened another iron pot to cook the dishes in the soup of stewed pork head. The scene is also quite interesting, this morning there was a strong wind, and the temperature was quite low, it should be minus five degrees, and then the temperature was as high as minus three degrees. All men who make meat, and young men will not do it, they are all experienced men in their fifties and sixties. The oil on your hands can't be washed off, and there is no hot water, only tap water. Everyone does it together, divide in advance how many pounds of meat each family needs, which is equal to collective labor, and everyone divides the results.
It seems simple, but it's not easy to do. Everyone worked for six or seven hours to get it done. A pig was processed and left with a lot of fresh lean meat and ribs. The three are basically evenly distributed.
