After eating boiled meat for two or three days, Li Long wanted a change of flavor today. First, he put the untouched offal in a large basin to soak, planning to portion out the remaining meat after his meal.
He took an enamel bowl from the trunk, mixed chili oil, vinegar, and chopped wild onions in it, then set it aside.
He fished out a piece of argali neck and put it in another enamel basin. Taking his washed knife, he sliced off a piece, dipped it in the sauce, and popped it into his mouth. The flavor was spot-on.
Argali meat was quite gamey. Although he had added ginger and wild onions while boiling it to reduce the gaminess, some of that flavor was bound to remain.
But eating it this way now subdued that last bit of gaminess. And since the animal had just been slaughtered, the freshly boiled meat tasted particularly good with the sauce.
In later years, many restaurants in Northern Xinjiang served hand-pulled meat with a plate of chili salt: toasted chili powder mixed with salt, sometimes with cumin added. Tearing off a piece of meat and dipping it in that mixture tasted good too.
Right now, all he lacked was a piece of piyazi.
Fine, a little imperfection was a little imperfection. Even eating it this way was something ninety-nine percent of people in this era had never enjoyed.
After slicing all the meat off the neck, Li Long used a chopstick to poke out the spinal marrow and ate it. He fetched a piece of nang to cut through the richness, then fished out an argali rib and continued eating the same way.
The big pot attracted flies, so Li Long simply put the lid on. He left some of the fire underneath