For quite a few Sichuan dishes, the deep-fried aroma is an indispensable finishing touch.
Chopped peppers, minced garlic and Sichuan peppercorns are piled on top of the stuffed ingredients, like the snow on the top of the mountain, which is actually a little poetic.
Liu Yan came over with hot oil, her wrist was slightly sideways, and the yellow and transparent hot oil fell.
"Pop~"
At the moment of contact, the pungent pepper, the fragrant garlic, and the numbness of the pepper all exploded at this moment.
A large cloud of smoke rolled like a mushroom cloud, accompanied by a small splash of oil mist, and was taken away by the desperately rotating range hood.
One big and one small behind the sofa inhaled desperately, "It smells good!"
Liu Yan said: "Go and serve the rice, there are still two dishes, it will be ready soon."
"Okay!" Yu Yu got up quickly, with a little tail behind her.
