Spring Breeze Twenty Years

Chapter 1065 Pig Slaughter Feast

Aunt Wang said, "You heartless bastard, did I not secretly take it for you? You follow me around like a little dog."

Xiao Wei's mom said, "You're the one who's like a puppy. You eat something and smear it all over your face."

My fourth aunt said, "You guys are doing alright. My family has even eaten tree bark, elm leaves, pods, and poplar twigs. We were just happy to have enough to eat. My sister and I would carry a small basket up the mountain every day, hoping to find something to fill our stomachs."

Xiaowei's mother said, "It was all the same. Back then, which kid didn't go hiking in the mountains? I even went to Qiangangzi. Thinking about it now, I was really capable back then. That must have been about twenty miles!"

Aunt Si said, "No, it's not that far. It's about ten miles away. There are lots of hickory nuts and patches of sour grass over there; eating them makes you vomit acid."

Aunt Wang said, "I haven't been to the mountains much, and I can't even recognize all the wild vegetables. Ground cherries are so delicious; just peel them and dip them in some white sugar."

Xiaowei's mother said, "You're something else. You're a capitalist brat, and we're poor proletarians. We're not even on the same level. Back then, we didn't even have white sugar. We didn't have a single sweet thing at home. We just secretly ate some sorghum stalks."

Auntie Si said, "That's right, because my mom pinched me a lot when I was gnawing on sorghum stalks, and if the team found out, they would deduct my work points."

Cut the pickled cabbage, rinse it with warm water, squeeze it into a ball, and put it into a pot with oil on the north-facing kang (heated brick bed). Turn the heat down and let it simmer. It's done in a hurry, cutting and adding quickly, there's not much else to it.

A little while later, breakfast was ready. My fourth aunt cooked white porridge with a dozen or so boiled eggs, the vegetables were leftovers from last night, plus a plate of pickled vegetables and a few boiled salted duck eggs.

She set up the kang table on the north side of the kang, and served the dishes: rice, eggs, duck eggs, pickled vegetables, and chili sauce. She also brought out a plate of steamed buns. Xiaowei's mother went over and patted Zhang Bing, Xiaohong, and Xiuer awake: "Get up and eat. You bunch of lazybones, even thunder couldn't wake you up."

Xiao Wei's father and fourth uncle also came in, washed their hands, and everyone sat down to eat breakfast.

Xiaowei's mom gave Xiaowei's dad a duck egg and peeled a chicken egg for Zhang Bing, asking, "Is everything arranged?"

Xiao Wei's dad cracked a hole in the duck egg and used chopsticks to scoop the salted duck egg into the porridge bowl: "What's the big deal? Just wash it and boil some water."

Xiao Hong and Xiu'er washed their faces and ran over. Zhang Bing, who was on the north kang, got up and squeezed to the table. Xiao Wei tapped him on the head with chopsticks and said, "Put your clothes on."

After dinner, everyone went outside to work, while Xiao Hong, Xiu'er, and Zhang Bing sat there eating and drinking slowly.

At 8:30, there was a commotion outside. The pig had been brought in. The sauerkraut inside was almost chopped. Xiaowei added some salt to the pot, tended the fire, and went outside to watch the pig being slaughtered.

A large, spotted pig, its four hooves bound tightly, squealed desperately as several burly men lifted it onto a locust wood table. Uncle Si said, "This fellow, if you put it on another table, it would collapse. It must weigh at least four hundred pounds, right?"

The butcher was Gazi's dad. He wasn't a professional butcher, but people in the village usually went to him for pig slaughtering because he was strong.

He drew a gleaming knife: "Hold it down, just a little longer."

There was a time when a pig was being slaughtered in the village and the pig ran away because the villagers couldn't hold it back. Everyone was ecstatic. The whole village searched for the pig all over the mountains and fields. When they finally found it on a ridge in the back of the mountain, it had been eaten by something.

Pigs and cattle, two normally slow and docile domestic animals, can be incredibly powerful when they go berserk, to an extent that will surprise you.

The group was ready. Ga Zi's father held the knife in one hand and slashed it down his chest, turning it around as he said, "Use a bigger basin, quick." Xiao Wei quickly ran over and pulled away the basin that was meant to collect the blood, replacing it with a large aluminum basin under the table.

The pig was squealing and struggling wildly, and several people held it down tightly. Ga Zi's father pulled out a knife, and a stream of white liquid gushed out from the cut and fell into the basin below.

"What, what is this?"

"Dazhuang, did you poke it wrong? What is this?"

Ga Zi's father put down the knife with his right hand, dipped his finger in the oozing liquid, licked it, and said to the men holding the pig down, "Hold it down, don't let go yet." He bent down, pulled the basin that Xiao Wei had dragged to the side, and brought it in front of him, saying, "What? Damn, it's oily! This pig is too fat. Xiao Wei, come here."

Xiao Wei leaned closer, and Ga Zi's father looked down at the pig's neck. After a moment, he said, "Take it away." Xiao Wei bent down and moved the aluminum tray aside. Ga Zi's father shoved the basin he was holding under the table, and then everyone saw red appear; blood gushed out.

Xiao Wei's dad went over to the bowl Xiao Wei was carrying, dipped his finger in the oil, and licked it: "It really is oily. I've never seen anything like it before. Old Zhuang is so clever."

People started discussing: "This pig needs to be fed grain and soybean cakes; just vegetable soup won't do. Look at how fat it is."

"Nonsense, where would we get all that food if we didn't have money?"

The basin was mostly filled with a mixture of oil and water. Ga Zi's dad looked at it and said, "It's fine, just keep filling it like this. It tastes better with more oil."

My fourth aunt came over to bring over the pig's blood and said, "I'm just worried that if there's too much oil, it won't be right; it'll all fall apart after cooking."

Gazi's dad said, "It's okay, we're not selling it. As long as it's fresh and chilled, it's fine. Go ahead and fill it up, just add a few handfuls of cornstarch."

They lifted the now motionless pig onto the sorghum stalks laid out by the stove, poured boiling water over it with a ladle, and began to remove the hair. Meanwhile, Aunt Si added salt, chopped green onions, minced ginger, Sichuan peppercorn powder, cornstarch, and MSG to the pig's blood and stirred it well.

After the hair was removed, Ga Zi's dad switched to a different knife and started gutting the pig. With a few cuts, he removed the pig's head, tail, trotters, and elbows. He then used a small axe to split open the ribs. First, he carefully found the gallbladder, tied it with string, and took it out. Then, he removed the heart, liver, spleen, stomach, and kidneys one by one.

The stomach and intestines were emptied into a bucket, and someone was told to move them aside to turn them over. Meanwhile, the pig's body, which had been split in two, was rinsed with warm water to remove the blood foam, and the ribs and spine were removed.

The small intestines that were turned inside out were washed and immediately taken inside. A group of women began to make blood sausage. After the large intestines and stomach were turned inside out, they were rubbed with coarse salt to remove the stomach acid and mucous membranes.

Uncle Si carried the pig's head and trotters to the edge of the stove and used a red-hot iron spatula to scald them, making sure all the fine hairs inside the folds were scalded away. At this time, some people also used rosin or asphalt to remove them, but it didn't get them as clean as scalding, and besides, rosin and asphalt were hard to come by in the countryside.

With a sizzling sound, thick smoke billowed from the pig's head, and a burning smell wafted in the wind.

Everyone in the village has already eaten breakfast. In the countryside, breakfast is usually eaten late in winter; right now, it's just two meals a day, but in the summer, during busy farming seasons, they only eat three. Every little bit helps.

The neighborhood children, dressed in all sorts of colorful cotton-padded jackets and wearing upturned cotton hats, appeared in the yard and on the walls. One by one, with snot hanging from their noses and their cheeks red from the cold, they stared longingly at the pork being butchered on the chopping board. No one made a fuss; they all watched quietly without blinking. Some were even drooling.

Ladle out the hot water from the large pot, wash the pot clean, add well water, remove the leg bones from the elbow and the thigh bones from the thigh, put the chopped spine into the pot.

Once the water boils and simmers for a few minutes, skim off any foam. Add scallion segments and ginger slices, along with half a handful of Sichuan peppercorns, a few star anise, and a few pieces of cinnamon. At the same time, cut the pork belly from the rib section into long strips, wash them, and add them to the pot, placing them on top of the bones. Cover and simmer.

Once the water has reduced to half its original volume, the aroma of bones will waft out through the lid. Lift the lid, and you'll find half a pot of milky white bone broth ready.

(End of this chapter)