Years ago, my mother asked me to outline the menu for the New Year's Eve dinner. The first menu that popped up in my mind was: Crispy meat. Bite it down, and the fragrance will be overflowing.

I am glad that I can inherit my grandmother's original craftsmanship today, so that I can keep the flavor that the old man brought me when he was alive.

At that time, my grandmother's fingers were bent because of years of fatigue, and all ten fingers were like this. I didn't feel deeply when I was young. I stood by the fire and watched grandma cut the pork into small pieces, put some eggs in the basin, and stirred the pork with one hand and the other. Although my fingers can't be straightened, my movements are still flexible and quick.

When the oil was hot, my grandmother grabbed the mixed pork pieces and put them in the pot. The earthen cooker made a sizzling sound. I watched pieces of crispy meat bloom in the oil pan, like golden ripples, and my heart was full of expectation.

02

At that time, I would go back to my hometown every winter and summer vacation, a small county full of fireworks, and my grandmother's house was on an ordinary diaojiao building. In the morning, my grandparents will carry a vegetable basket for an early meeting. By the time I woke up, they had gone home with the ingredients of the day, and sometimes they brought some cakes or gouache to my brother and me.

At that time, the pace of life was very slow, we were all young, and grandma was not old.

The usual picture is that in the lobby of grandma's house, my brother and I are leaning on the sofa watching TV, while grandma and grandpa are processing the ingredients to be prepared that day. Grandma's crooked fingers have always been very flexible, picking vegetables, washing rice, peeling beans and so on. At that time, I naively thought that grandma's hands were like this.

Grandma chats with grandpa from time to time while doing things, and occasionally watches TV and interacts with my brother. After finishing the preparatory work, she walked into the kitchen through the long aisle with pots and pans. Grandpa began to read the newspaper, and there was a tinkling sound in the kitchen. This is grandma's most common state. She can smell the food in a short time.

Grandma said she would look forward to it twice a year, once in summer vacation and once in winter vacation, which means I will come back. She said she could take me to sleep and fry me crispy meat. It is often a leisurely afternoon, just watching my grandmother bring me a big pot of crispy meat for my brother and me to eat together. I don't remember when she entered the kitchen. The only thing I can remember is that she approached me slowly from the end of that long corridor, holding a large portion of crispy meat in her hand. The corridor is usually not bright, so what stays deepest in my memory is my grandmother's silhouette, which is short but capable. I think this silhouette must have a reassuring smile.

03

After a long time, life becomes faster, we grow up, and grandma is old.

My hometown has been modernized, and my old house has been demolished. My grandmother moved into the commodity building with her brother. The last time she fried crispy meat for me was the Spring Festival the year before her death. My grandfather has gone, and she lived alone for five years that year. She said that she was lonely, missed her grandfather and often slept with his clothes.

She knew that I was going back to my hometown that day, so she stared at the corner where I appeared on the balcony early. Until I appeared and shouted to her, she waved to me with a reassuring smile until she saw me enter the unit building. This picture is repeated every year, just like my tacit understanding with her. As long as I come back, she must be in the corner of the balcony, which makes me feel at ease. No matter how far you go, as long as you come back, there will be people who care about themselves and wait for them.

She hugged me when I came in, like a child waiting for candy. When I settled down, she went into the kitchen and began to fry crispy meat. She said she knew I liked it and prepared a lot early in the morning. I was afraid that I would not have enough to eat, so I looked at her with a smile.

My fingers are still so bent, but my back is also bent, and my movements are no longer as flexible as before, but I still have a tenacious vitality to inspire me. When I asked if I could follow suit, she said cheerfully, "Why do you study these things so hard? If you like, I can cook it for you every day. " . But I still have to learn. I was a little scared, afraid that one day I wouldn't be able to eat this taste.

Grandma taught me when she couldn't beat me. I listened carefully and wrote it down in my notebook. I'm afraid if I make a mistake, it will make the taste worse. I have never asked myself so accurately. Although there are too many recipes about crispy meat, I only love the taste she makes.

After that year, I'm leaving. She cried badly. I said I would eat crispy meat as soon as I had time. She watched me leave. When I went downstairs and looked back, I could still see the figure looking at me in the corner of the balcony. I could feel the faint disappointment, so I watched until I disappeared into the corner of her vision.

Dare not look at her again, dare not miss her, dare not admit that she is really getting old.