Could lard scraps be anything but delicious?
Seventh Uncle leisurely scooped out all the oil from the pot, then fished out the crispy lard scraps after letting them drain.
Thinking of his foolish disciple, he even set aside two plates, "Qiaoqiao, do you want the sweet or the salty one?"
Qiaoqiao paused in the middle of rolling dough, then asked in confusion, "Can't I have both?"
At this remark, Aunt Lianhua couldn't help but laugh, while Seventh Uncle grumbled, "Your little brain, if it's not about food, it's about play, no ambition at all."
Yet, even as he spoke, he obediently sprinkled white sugar and salt on the two plates of lard scraps, respectively.
Song Tan couldn't resist anymore and pinched off a piece, the crispy and fragrant taste mingling with that oily chewiness, melting the light grains of salt upon chewing, feeling content from body to soul.
Even though the pork wasn't top-notch, for her, it was enough to savor the flavor.
