When I was a child, I grew up in a rural area in southwest Shandong. At that time, when the production team organized production, my family was not rich, and it was impossible to eat meat and steamed bread on weekdays. The meal that impressed me deeply was my mother's birthday. It happened that a donkey died in the production team The team peeled and cleaned the donkey and divided the meat according to the family population. When the meat was finished, my mother said, "I think everyone else (expressed in the dialect of' others') eats donkey meat. Today (expressed in the dialect of' today'), I also eat stewed cabbage with donkey meat at noon, and the pot stickers are mixed with bean noodles." At that time, when I was young, I only watched my father sort out the donkey meat, divided it into several portions, took out an extra portion at noon and salted the rest for later. Mom lit a fire in the kitchen, put some cottonseed oil in the pot, added ginger and aniseed, and fried the chopped donkey meat of Dad. I stood by the pot and stared at the donkey meat in the pot. I smell meat and my mouth is watering. "Hey, stay away, don't let the oil in the pot collapse, the meat is not cooked yet." While talking about me, my mother added water to the pot and started cook the meat. Mother began to cut cabbage and wash vermicelli in the basin and mix the noodles. My legs are a little numb. I asked, "Mom, you haven't played yet. Is it cooked? " "Just add a handful of firewood. Look at my little greed! " Mother said, adding firewood to the stove. Mother washed her hands, held a spoon in one hand and a pot in the other (the dialect expression of' pot cover'), and then mixed a small piece of meat with a spoon and put it in a bowl. "This small one is almost in the middle, and the big one is not enough. Hey, eat cold. " I picked up the bowl of small pieces of meat, sat in the firewood pile, looked at the meat in the bowl for a while, and watched my mother add cabbage and vermicelli to the pot and some water. Then I grabbed a small piece of dough from the basin, patted it flat and round in my hand, stuck it around the pot while it was hot, and covered it with a pot to burn. "Honey, stop hugging and eat!" Mother took the bowl and tore the meat out of it. "Eat quickly, the pot stickers are ready, and the dishes are ready." The food in that meal was really delicious, and I will never forget it, especially when I broke the fried dumpling into the dish and ate it with donkey meat, cabbage and vermicelli.
Nowadays, the pot stickers made from the cauldron are very bad, and the pot stickers made from the electric baking pan are not old-fashioned. I miss the fried dumpling for mixing noodles when I was a child. It is really delicious.