Saturday was a bright, sunny day. The sun had melted much of the snow in the yard, and water dripped steadily from the eaves.
Zhao Hongmei was washing the freshly purchased tenderloin by the well when she heard a crisp jingling sound at the gate, followed by a slightly spoiled voice calling out, “Mom! I’m back! I’m starving—is there anything to eat at home?”
Her mother-in-law, Li Guilan, who had been sewing shoe soles inside, threw the sole onto the kang and rushed out, not even bothering to put her shoes on properly. Her face, usually as long as Mount Changbai, now beamed like a chrysanthemum.
“Oh, my little darling, you’re finally back! You must have suffered a lot eating at the school canteen this week. Look at you—your face is as thin as a knife blade.”
Zhao Hongmei straightened up and shook the water off her hands. The one who had entered was Qin Gang’s younger sister, Qin Xiaoyu.
The girl was a second-year high school student at the county’s No. 1 Middle School. She was the only “scholar” in the Lao Qin Family, usually boarding at school and only returning home once a week. In the rural areas of that era, having a high school student in the family was a matter of great pride. Li Guilan doted on this daughter as if she were the apple of her eye, never letting her lift a finger for household chores—she was coddled to the point of being spoiled.
Qin Xiaoyu pushed her somewhat worn-out Phoenix bicycle into the yard. She wore a slightly faded blue tracksuit uniform and a red woolen scarf around her neck, looking youthful and energetic.
At a glance, she spotted Zhao Hongmei by the well. Her eyes swept over her up and down, her lips curling slightly. Without greeting her, she turned to Li Guilan and said, “Mom, my brother’s new wife looks so rustic.”
Li Guilan, as if finding a kindred spirit, took her daughter’s hand and deliberately raised her voice:
“Isn’t that right! Our Gangzi must have been blinded. You have no idea—this wasteful woman went to the market yesterday and spent several yuan on a bunch of tree bark and grass roots, and even bought a flimsy iron wok as thin as paper! Isn’t that just asking for trouble?”
Qin Xiaoyu shoved her heavy schoolbag into Qin Gang’s hands. He was a bit slow to take it, earning him a glare from her:
“Brother, why have you become so clumsy too? I told you, you should find a wife with some education. You insisted on marrying a country woman—what can she do besides cooking and having children? She’s already spending money recklessly right after marrying into the family. How are we supposed to live like this?”
Qin Gang flushed red and tried to defend his wife: “Xiaoyu, your sister-in-law is…”
“Enough, don’t speak up for her,” Qin Xiaoyu cut him off, linking arms with Li Guilan as they headed inside. “Mom, I want to eat meat. The food at the school canteen is full of sand—I’m practically dying of craving.”
“Eat! Mom saved the meat ration coupons for you!” Li Guilan shot Zhao Hongmei a fierce glare, as if she were a hungry wolf ready to eat the family into poverty. “Not like some people who only know how to waste things.”
Zhao Hongmei stood by the well, her face expressionless. She watched the mother and daughter’s retreating figures and sneered inwardly.
This little sister-in-law had been a spoiled brat in her past life. Later, she failed the college entrance exam, was too proud to do menial work, and lived off her parents for years. In the end, she married an unreliable man and still came back crying to borrow money.
Back then, Zhao Hongmei had been soft-hearted and often helped her out, only to be met with the words, “This is what you owe me.”
But in this lifetime, Zhao Hongmei didn’t plan to indulge anyone, nor did she intend to argue with a girl who hadn’t yet grown up. The best weapon against a high school student still growing and lacking oil in their belly wasn’t words—it was a ladle.
She looked down at the bright red tenderloin in the basin.
Originally, she had planned to make stir-fried pork strips with garlic sprouts, but now it seemed she’d have to change it up. She needed a dish that could instantly captivate the taste buds, one so delicious it would make someone want to swallow their own tongue.
Sweet and sour pork.
Nothing could conquer a young girl’s stomach better than the sweet, sour, and crispy flavors of sweet and sour pork.
Zhao Hongmei placed the tenderloin on the cutting board and deftly sliced it into strips as thick as a finger. The strips couldn’t be too thin, or they’d turn tough when fried; nor too thick, or they wouldn’t absorb the flavors.
Next was coating the meat. This was the key to the success or failure of sweet and sour pork.
She didn’t use flour but instead pulled out sweet potato starch. She soaked the starch thoroughly in water, let the white sediment settle, poured off the clear water on top, and grabbed a handful to mix with the meat. This was called “wet starch coating,” which would fry up with a crisp, firm shell that crumbled into flaky tenderness when bitten. To make the color more appealing, she added a few drops of soybean oil.
As she prepared, Qin Gang had already lit the fire in the hearth. Watching his wife’s unhurried movements, he whispered, “Hongmei, Xiaoyu has a sharp tongue, but don’t take it to heart. She’s just foolish from too much studying.”
“Why would I argue with a child?” Zhao Hongmei placed the newly bought thin iron wok on the hearth.
The wok was indeed thin—as soon as the flames licked it, the bottom glowed blue. Zhao Hongmei scooped a large spoonful of lard and added a bit of rapeseed oil. Mixed oils made fried food more fragrant and gave it a brighter color.
When the oil reached medium heat, tiny bubbles formed around a chopstick inserted into it.
Zhao Hongmei gently placed the coated pork strips, one by one, into the wok.
“Sizzle—”
With a burst of sizzling oil, the once limp pork strips instantly puffed up. The white starch coating quickly set, tumbling in the hot oil and turning crisp and firm.
The aroma of frying meat wasn’t as mellow as stewed meat—it was more assertive, carrying the charred fragrance of high-temperature oil. It seeped through the cracks in the kitchen door and windows, drifting freely into the main room.
In the main room, Li Guilan was peeling sunflower seeds for her daughter, while Qin Xiaoyu held a Qiong Yao novel in her hands.
Suddenly, Qin Xiaoyu sniffed the air.
“Mom, what’s that smell? It’s so fragrant!”
Li Guilan smelled it too, her throat involuntarily moving, but she insisted, “What good smell could it be? That’s just frying. That wasteful daughter-in-law must be using up all the oil saved for New Year! She really doesn’t know how to manage a household!”
Qin Xiaoyu didn’t reply, but the pages of her book remained unturned for a long while. The aroma was too enticing—not the greasy smell of oil but a rich, meaty fragrance that made her mouth water. The craving in her stomach seemed hooked by that scent, churning restlessly.
In the kitchen, Zhao Hongmei had already started the second fry.
As the oil temperature rose, the once-fried pork strips went back into the wok. This time, it took only a few dozen seconds for the pale strips to turn golden brown, clinking together with a crisp “crackle” sound.
She fished them out to drain the oil.
Leaving a small amount of oil in the wok, she poured in the sweet and sour sauce she had prepared earlier. Without tomato sauce, Zhao Hongmei used sugar, aged vinegar, and a bit of soy sauce for color, finishing with a thin starch slurry.
The sauce bubbled vigorously in the wok, then settled into smaller bubbles, turning glossy red and thickening.
She poured in the fried pork tenderloin.
“Gangzi, turn off the heat!”
Zhao Hongmei flicked her wrist, and the lightweight thin iron wok seemed to come alive in her hands. The meat strips performed a graceful flip in the air, each one evenly coated with the glossy red sauce yet remaining separate from one another.
Out of the wok and onto the plate.
The dish glistened red and oily, with a tangy sweet aroma wafting up. Each piece of meat shone like red agate. Finally, she sprinkled a small pinch of white sesame seeds—the presentation was no less impressive than that of a chef at a state-run restaurant.
When Qin Gang carried the plate into the main room, Qin Xiaoyu’s eyes widened.
She stared at the steaming dish, unconsciously swallowing her saliva. Her previously crossed legs uncrossed, and she tossed her book aside.
“Time to eat.” Qin Gang placed the plate in the center of the table.
Li Guilan’s heart ached at the sight of the red-glazed meat, clicking her tongue in distress. “How much oil and sugar must have gone into this one meal? What a waste…”
But before her mother could finish, Qin Xiaoyu’s chopsticks were already reaching out.
She picked up a piece of tenderloin, the sweet and sour sauce stretching into a fine red thread. As she brought it to her mouth, her teeth lightly touched the crispy surface, producing a faint “crackle.”
Crispy.
So incredibly crispy.
Immediately, the perfectly balanced sweet and sour sauce enveloped her tongue, the rich flavor making her mouth water instantly. With another chew, the tenderloin inside was as tender as tofu, juicy and not the least bit dry.
Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, sweet and sour to whet the appetite.
In all her years, Qin Xiaoyu had never tasted meat this delicious. It was a hundred times better than the greasy slabs of fat from the school cafeteria, and leagues above the flour-heavy, meat-scarce meatballs from the town’s eateries.
She had intended to maintain some decorum and find fault, but her mouth simply wouldn’t obey. After swallowing one piece, her chopsticks immediately went for a second, then a third…
“Slow down, no one’s fighting you for it.” Zhao Hongmei walked in carrying a basket of steamed buns, her tone indifferent.
Qin Xiaoyu flushed slightly, slowing her movements a little, but her mouth never stopped. She stole a glance at Zhao Hongmei. This sister-in-law, who had seemed thin and plain and whom she had earlier dismissed as “rustic,” now appeared somewhat agreeable in her eyes.
“Did… did you really make this?” Qin Xiaoyu asked, her mouth full of meat, the words muffled.
“If I didn’t make it, did it fall from the sky?” Zhao Hongmei picked up some pickled vegetables with her chopsticks, not touching the meat dish at all.
Qin Xiaoyu felt a bit embarrassed. Though spoiled, she was still a young girl in school, genuinely won over by this delicious taste.
One is softened by accepting others’ favors.
She picked up the largest piece and stuffed it into her mouth. The sweet, sour, and crispy sensation made her eyes narrow with happiness. She glanced at her own mother, who was still scowling and scolding Zhao Hongmei for wasting money, and suddenly found her mother’s words grating.
“Mom, you should try some too.” Qin Xiaoyu placed a piece of meat in Li Guilan’s bowl. “Stop criticizing sister-in-law all the time. Actually… actually, sister-in-law’s cooking skills are really good.”
Li Guilan was stunned.
Was this the same daughter who had just been united with her in indignation? Bought off by a single piece of meat?
“You child, why are you siding with an outsider?” Li Guilan lamented her daughter’s lack of discernment.
“I’m not siding with anyone, it’s just really delicious.” Qin Xiaoyu took another mouthful of rice, feeling that even the steamed buns tasted better than usual today.
“Mom, you should try some too! Don’t keep criticizing sister-in-law… This is absolutely delicious, ten thousand times better than the school cafeteria. Mom, if you keep scolding sister-in-law every day and she stops cooking, what will I eat when I come home on weekends?”
These words left Li Guilan speechless.
She stared at the piece of meat in her bowl, unsure whether to eat it or not. In the end, unable to resist the enticing aroma, she indignantly picked it up and took a bite, having to admit in her heart: That damn girl really does have exceptional cooking skills!
Qin Gang sat beside them, head bowed as he shoveled rice into his mouth, shoulders shaking slightly as he struggled to hold back his laughter. Under the table, he discreetly nudged Zhao Hongmei’s leg with his knee.
Zhao Hongmei remained expressionless, but a flicker of amusement flashed in her eyes.
This plate of sweet and sour pork not only satisfied her sister-in-law’s appetite but also tore a huge gap in the united front her mother-in-law had painstakingly built.