The hometown representative dish with endless aftertaste and endless eating: smoked sausage

#Life has a temperature #In my hometown, the most representative dishes are smoked sausages, lean meatballs, tamales, meat cakes, stewed chicken hot pot, goulash hot pot, stewed fish hot pot, etc.

Sausage filling is the most troublesome, the most complicated process. In the winter, the Great North Wind whimpered, and our hands were frozen stiff and stiff, and we were afraid to stretch out.

Mom first cut off the skin of the meat with a sharp kitchen knife, and then took out a piece of fat and lean meat and placed it on the cutting board, carefully cutting it one by one, cutting the fat and thin ones together and cutting them into thin long strips.

When her mother's hands froze stiffly, she kept breathing, and with a long breath, it turned into a white mist, and then she cut again.

Mom found a big yellow bowl, dark and black, with a very large belly that could hold a lot of meat. Mom kept cutting and cutting, and she stood for a while and said to herself, "My waist hurts so much!" I hurriedly moved a chair and tucked it under Mom's ass, and Mom sat down and cut the meat unhurriedly.

Mom was too tired to cut, and her waist was a lot slumped, like a curved shrimp. Mom shouted loudly, "Come and help me cut the meat, if you want to eat it, you have to make a lot of effort!" Dad turned his head toward the door, didn't look at it, and said very coldly, "I'm going to go outside and play chess." He pushed out his bike and flew away.

Mom cut it for more than half a day, and the cut meat was piled up in a yellow bowl like a small mountain bag.

Mom found two pairs of pig intestines, took out a chopstick, and carefully scraped the white film on it. After scraping it clean, turn the intestines over with a fire fork, drizzle with dish soap, and wash it several times over and over again.

Sprinkle salt, spicy noodles, hot sauce, pepper noodles, minced ginger, five-spice powder and other ingredients on the meat, like turning straw, copy around, so that the ingredients are evenly spread on the meat.

When the sausage was poured, my mother found a grate and a circle, tied it herself, and tied it tightly with a thin line. Mom put the snare on the outside of the intestine and turned the intestine over gently, only a little. Then, the cut meat is stuffed into the intestines piece by piece.

I found a thin thread, a pin, and a little help for my mother. Mom squeezed the sausage little by little with her hand, squeezing it as tightly as possible, and I pricked it gently with a pin to let some bubbles out of the flesh inside. At each end, I wrapped a thin thread twice, tied it into a loose knot, and the red and white sausages were ready.

When we roast the fire, we will find some wooden sticks, elm tree pockets come and burn, smoke is foggy, smoke is thick, and the fire is burning. We hung the sausages on the beams and roasted them on a smokey fire facing the brazier. After roasting for more than a month, the sausage becomes black and red, fragrant and moistened with oil.

The sausages are boiled in a large iron pot, cut out round, slice by slice, white and red, greasy and greasy, and our whole family loves to eat and praises.