Chapter 627 Fried Meatballs
It was just daybreak and before the roosters in the courtyard crowed, smoke was already coming out of the kitchen chimney.
Uncle Wang, wrapped in a military coat and wearing frozen cloth shoes, added coal to the stove. The flames licked the bottom of the pot, making his wrinkled face red.
"Uncle, is the fire strong enough?" He shouted to Grandma Zhang who was picking vegetables, and used tongs to stir up sparks in the coal pile.
Grandma Zhang, wearing a blue cloth headscarf, was squatting on the stone steps picking radish leaves. The muddy radishes were piled up like a small hill in the bamboo basket.
"Burn it up a bit more!" She moved towards the kitchen, tapping the floor with her cane. "The oil for frying meatballs needs to be heated until it smokes. Last year, I fried some for my grandson, and he smacked his lips with the delicious smell."
Aunt Li's loud voice came from the gate: "I brought three carrots!"
She rushed in with her basket, the hem of her blue cotton jacket sweeping the snow on the threshold: "My wife got up early to rub the silk, it's finer than the ones sold at the supply and marketing cooperative!"
Before he finished speaking, the second uncle came in with an enamel basin with four eggs in it, shining brightly in the morning light: "Add two eggs, and the meatballs will be crispy on the outside and tender on the inside!"
The third uncle was squatting on the ground sifting flour, and the white powder fell on his black cotton jacket, like a layer of frost.
He looked up at the sky and muttered, "Why hasn't Yimin come yet? He said he would come to help early this morning."
"It's almost done!" Uncle Wang scooped up a spoonful of oil with an iron spoon and poured some into the pot. The oil droplets "crackled" and splashed on the edge of the pot.
Aunt Li quickly poured the shredded radish and carrot into a large basin. The second uncle cracked an egg, mixed the distinct yellow and white egg liquid with the shredded vegetables, and stirred it vigorously with a rolling pin. The "huffing and puffing" sound mixed with the rustling of the shredded vegetables sounded like a lively ditty.
"Add salt!" "Add some more five-spice powder!" "Not enough flour!" The shouts came one after another.
The third uncle brought another half bag of flour. When he poured it into the basin, his hands shook and spilled it all over his shoulders, causing everyone to laugh.
Grandma Zhang was supervising on the side with a cane. She would tap anyone she saw slacking off on the arm and say, "Be quick! When the children wake up, they'll have to rush over to eat!"
Just then, the sound of military boots stepping on snow was heard from the gate of the courtyard. Zhou Yimin walked in wrapped in a military coat, with frost on the brim of his hat.
"I'm sorry, I'm late. Something delayed me." He rubbed his red hands and walked straight to the big basin. "How's the batter going? I'll do it."
"That's right!" The third uncle moved to the side. "I'm waiting for you, who has more strength, to come and knead the dough. You can make it more chewy."
Zhou Yimin took the rolling pin and stirred the batter in the bowl vigorously, the muscles on his arms bulging slightly.
After a while, he kneaded the batter into small balls and placed them on the oiled chopping board, with the plump white meatballs arranged neatly.
Uncle Wang picked up the meatballs with long chopsticks and put them into the oil pan. With a "sizzle", the oil immediately wrapped around the meatballs and slowly formed golden edges.
"Is it almost there? I think the color is dark enough." Aunt Li came over and took a look.
"Fry it for a while longer!" Uncle Wang was flipping the meatballs, and the aroma of oil mixed with the sweet smell of radish wafted out of the yard.
When the first pot of meatballs was taken out, oil droplets dripped down the colander, forming small oil puddles in the bowl. Sprinkle some pepper and salt on them, and the aroma was so fragrant that it made people drool.
A little girl with pigtails came out from the crowd while no one was paying attention, reached out her hand to pinch a meatball and stuffed it into her mouth. She stamped her feet because it was too hot, but she couldn't bear to spit it out: "Hot, hot, hot... delicious!"
The oil dripped down the corner of her mouth. She wiped it with her sleeve and reached out to grab the second one. Her mother slapped her on the back: "You are rude! Let the grandparents have a taste first!"
Zhou Yimin leaned against the door frame, looking at the busy figures in the yard, smelling the aroma of vegetarian meatballs in the air, and suddenly remembered that there was still some meat at home.
He thought to himself, since there are vegetarian meatballs, everyone would be happier if there were some meatballs.
I am also a member of the Siheyuan, and I should participate in such lively activities.
So Zhou Yimin turned around and went back home, and soon came out with two kilograms of pork.
Although the pork is not particularly fatty, it is fresh and has a faint sheen in the morning light.
When the others saw the pork in Zhou Yimin's hand, their eyes lit up and they couldn't help swallowing their saliva. You know, meat was a rare commodity in those days.
Zhou Yimin walked up to the uncle and said with a smile, "Uncle, everyone seems to be enjoying the meal, and I see there is some extra flour, why don't we use the meat to make meatballs?"
The old man didn't expect Zhou Yimin to take out meat. He was stunned for a moment, then a happy smile appeared on his face, and he quickly agreed: "Yimin, thank you so much! With meatballs, this celebration will be more decent!"
People around also started talking about it.
"Yimin is such a generous kid!"
"It's delicious to have meatballs!"
"Yi Min is thoughtful and knows that everyone is craving for meat!"
Everyone's face was filled with anticipation.
Soon, everyone became busy again.
Aunt Li took the pork and cut it into small pieces skillfully, preparing to chop it into minced meat.
The second uncle went to look for seasonings at home, thinking of adding more flavor to the meat filling. The third uncle also came over to help calculate how much flour to put in the meat filling.
The kitchen became lively again, but this time, in addition to the fresh fragrance of vegetarian meatballs, there was also a hint of the mellow aroma of meat in the air, making the celebration even more warm.
The sun slowly climbed over the roof, and five or six large bowls were already placed at the kitchen door. There were not only golden vegetarian meatballs, but also freshly fried meatballs, each of them was round and plump.
The third uncle was counting the amount in the bowl, fearing that someone would take too much; the second uncle was carrying a bowl to Old Liu's house, his steps were so brisk that he didn't look like a man over 60.
When Zhou Yimin saw this scene, he thought this kind of activity seemed quite good.
When the sun climbed to the top of the bamboo pole, the banquet had already been set up on the eight-immortal table at the kitchen door.
Six large blue-rimmed bowls stood side by side, with three bowls of vegetarian meatballs piled up like a small mountain, the green and white of the radish mixed with the golden oily color.
The other three bowls contained freshly fried meatballs. The fat and lean meat fillings shrunk into round balls under the high temperature. Oil droplets flowed down the edge of the bowl and formed small puddles on the table.
"Let's eat!" An old man raised his chopsticks and knocked on the edge of the bowl. Amid the crisp sound of the enamel colliding, the children could no longer hold back and gathered around like little sparrows.
The pigtailed girl was carried to the bench by her mother. As soon as she sat down, she stretched out her greasy little hand and pointed at the bowl of meatballs. However, the second uncle tapped her hand with chopsticks: "Wash your hands first! You won't be able to eat meat if you don't pay attention to hygiene."
Zhou Yimin found a small stool and sat in the corner. He just picked up a vegetarian meatball when the third uncle came over with a bowl and two meatballs on his chopsticks. "Yimin, try this. Aunt Li's stuffing is amazing. She added some pepper powder. It smells so good."
He took a bite first, and the oil flowed from the corners of his mouth to his chin. He wiped it with his sleeve, but his eyes turned into crescents when he smiled.
Uncle Wang squatted on the steps, holding a meatball in his hand. He didn't rush to eat it, but handed one to Grandma Zhang first: "Old sister, you have bad teeth. This meatball is fried crispy and easy to chew."
Grandma Zhang took it in her hands, sipping it in small sips, tapping her cane on the ground to make a brisk rhythm: "Mm, fragrant! Better than the ones I fried when I was young."
Aunt Li was the busiest. She passed tissues to one person, added meatballs to another, and even had a vegetarian meatball in her mouth. She shouted incoherently, "Eat slowly! There's still some food frying in the pan. Have as much as you want!"
Her blue apron was stained with flour, and the tip of her nose was shiny with sweat - she had worked so hard chopping the meat that she had taken off her cotton jacket and was only wearing a single layer of clothing.
The kids' battleground was around the meatball bowl.
A chubby boy stuffed three meatballs into his pocket when no one was paying attention. His pocket was bulging like two stones. Just as he was about to run away, he was caught by Zhou Yimin.
"What are you hiding?" Zhou Yimin smiled and pinched his face, then stuffed two more into his hands.
"Leave it for your brother?"
The boy nodded with a red face, clutching the meatball and running to the corner of the yard, where an even younger child was squatting, looking at this side eagerly.
The second uncle carried the bowl and delivered it door to door. When he arrived at Old Liu's house, he put two more meatballs in it: "Old Liu, try the meat that Yimin brought to replenish your body."
An old voice of thanks came from the room, mixed with the crisp sound of meatballs being chewed, like a warm stove in winter, warming people's hearts.
Zhou Yimin looked at the excitement in front of him and suddenly felt that the vegetarian meatballs in his hand were particularly fragrant.
The sweetness of radish mixed with the mellowness of flour slowly spreads on the tip of the tongue, which is more refreshing than meatballs.
He stuffed another one into his mouth and caught a glimpse of Aunt Li sprinkling pepper and salt into the bowl of meatballs. The white powder fell on the golden meatballs like a layer of fine snow, causing the children next to them to cheer again.
"Yimin, eat some more!" An old man came over with a bowl and put four meatballs into his bowl.
"You need to eat more of the meat you brought."
The oil splashed on Zhou Yimin's military coat, but he didn't care. He picked up one and took a bite. The aroma of meat mixed with the numbing taste of peppercorns exploded in his mouth. It was so hot that he gasped, but he was reluctant to stop.
The meatballs in the bowl were all gone, leaving only some oil and pepper and salt.
The children, rubbing their round bellies, chased and played in the yard, humming tuneless songs, while the adults sat in the sun, chatting idly, with their empty bowls dangling on their knees.
The noise in the courtyard gradually subsided.
The children ran home with their pockets full of meatballs, and the adults also dispersed with their empty bowls. Only a few large bowls with oil stains were left at the kitchen door, glowing dimly in the twilight.
Zhou Yimin had just stacked the last bowl when he suddenly raised his chin towards Li Youde and Dapeng who were collecting firewood: "You two, come with me."
The bundle of firewood in Li Youde's hand fell to the ground with a "thump". He stood up and patted the dust off his hands, a hint of doubt flashed in his eyes.
Today's meatball meeting was very lively and Zhou Yimin was in high spirits the whole time. Why did he suddenly call them individually?
But he didn't ask any more questions, just winked at Dapeng, and the two of them followed Zhou Yimin into the yard, one in front and one behind.
Dapeng was fast and caught up with Zhou Yimin in a few steps. His military boots made a clacking sound on the blue bricks. "Yimin, is there something good? I noticed something was wrong with you when we were eating the meatballs just now. You kept staring at me and Youde."
He rubbed his hands and laughed. There were still some crumbs of vegetarian meatballs on his cotton jacket, which he had gotten on it when he was helping Aunt Li carry the bowl.
Zhou Yimin didn't answer, but pushed open the door of his yard and stepped aside to let them in.
With a "click", the wooden door was bolted from the inside, blocking out the twilight and sporadic voices outside the yard.
There was no light in the room, only the setting sun coming in through the window, casting long and short shadows on the concrete floor.
"Sit down." Zhou Yimin sat down on the bench and pointed to the small stool opposite him.
He fished out a cigarette case from his pocket, shook out two cigarettes, and lit up with a match. The flame flickered across the faces of the three people, and then he covered it with his palm.
As soon as Dapeng sat down, he couldn't help but lean forward, and the brim of his military cap almost touched the edge of the table: "Yimin, what's the matter with you calling us over?"
He had known Zhou Yimin for many years and knew that this man never beat around the bush. He must have something important to tell him that he was suddenly so mysterious.
Zhou Yimin suddenly stood up and turned to walk into the inner room.
The creaking sound of the wooden cabinet being opened was particularly clear in the silent room, followed by the rustling sound of oil paper rubbing against each other.
Li Youde and Dapeng exchanged glances and saw confusion in each other's eyes.
I don’t understand why Zhou Yimin did this.
"The situation has been tense recently and we haven't sold any goods," Zhou Yimin's voice came from the inner room, a little muffled.
"They must have eaten most of the meat." He came out holding two heavy oil-paper bags and placed them on the table, causing the table to sink slightly due to the weight of the bags.
"Here is some meat, take it back and have a good New Year."
The moment the oil paper package was unwrapped, Li Youde took a breath of cold air.
The two piles of meat glowed with a fresh red light under the setting sun. Each pile was neatly stacked. The five pounds of pork were fat and lean, and the fat was as thick as a small ingot.
Two pounds of mutton were cleaned up, and the fascia were handled clearly; at the bottom was a pig's trotter with tendons, and the fine hair on the skin was scraped off to a shine.
"Yimin, is this too much?" Li Youde's voice was trembling. He reached out and touched the pork, and his fingertips could feel the greasiness of the fat.
In those days, meat coupons were more valuable than money. This amount of meat could be bought on the black market for half a sewing machine.
He knew that Zhou Yimin had many connections, but he shouldn't be so extravagant.
Dapeng was also stunned, his eyes widened under his military cap. He had three younger brothers and sisters at home, and it was a blessing to be able to eat meat dumplings during the Chinese New Year. This pile of meat was enough for them to eat from New Year's Eve to the Lantern Festival.
"This...how can I feel embarrassed?" He rubbed his hands, wanting to push but unable to do so, and his Adam's apple rolled.
Zhou Yimin rewrapped the oil paper bag and tied it into a strong cross knot with hemp rope: "Don't be so nagging, just take it when I tell you to."
He stuffed one of the packets to Dapeng and handed the other to Li Youde. "Youde's family has many children. This pig's trotter stewed with soybeans can be used as a tonic for the children. Dapeng, you like to eat mutton. Go back and tell your mother to put more coriander when making dumplings."
The two wanted to refuse, but Zhou Yimin glared back at them.
"Take it!" His tone was unquestionable, but warm.
"We have worked together for so long, what does this little thing mean? When the situation is not so tense, I will still rely on you to help me sell goods on the black market."
These words warmed the hearts of the two.
Li Youde took it first. The oil paper bag felt heavy in his hand, like a warm stove.
"Then...thank you Yimin."
The two understood that the reason their current life was so good was all thanks to Zhou Yimin's help, and they could only keep this friendship in their hearts.
If Zhou Yimin wants to help, they will do their best to help.
Zhou Yimin walked them to the door, lifted the door curtain and looked into the yard. He found that there was no one in the yard: "Go back and hide, don't make any noise."
Li Youde and Dapeng nodded and ran towards their home as if they were carrying treasures.
(End of this chapter)
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