Before long, the pork belly, marbled with streaks of pale white and bright crimson, was drizzled with rendered lard. As it cooked, the fat rendered out and the lean meat shifted from rose-pink to light brown, eventually shrinking into a deep sandalwood color, with beads of caramel-like oil weeping from the fibers.
The meat hissed in the pan, its edges curling into tiny, golden, ruffled patterns like paper singed by a flame. With every deepening shade of color, the toasted aroma in the air grew richer. When the meat was finally lifted from the pot, the outer layer looked as if it were encased in caramel-colored scales; the sight alone was enough to make one’s mouth water.
Not a single drop of the oil in the pot was wasted; it was all stored away in a crock along with the pork belly. Mrs. Zhao and Cheng Nuo carried the crock together and hid it in the cellar.
Chapter 147