Chapter 9 sausage

After the daily vertical suspension rehabilitation exercise, the wheelchair pusher would push me back to the ward from the rehabilitation center, put me next to the hospital bed, and wait for the nurses to help me lie down on the bed.Every day at noon, the wheelchair pusher would deliberately say to me in a cheerful tone: "Bon Appetit!" It was as if he could finally take a breath and see you tomorrow.Of course, this sentence is a bit abrupt, like wishing someone "Merry Christmas!" on August 15th, or saying goodnight to someone in broad daylight.For eight months, I've had nothing but a few drops of lemonade and half a tablespoon of yogurt, and it's been chugging and gurgling as it gets lost in my airways.Eating tests like this (we deliberately exaggerate it as eating a big meal) have not been very productive.But rest assured, I don't feel very hungry.Two or three vials of a light-brown liquid substance supplied my daily calories through a tube that ran diagonally into my stomach.

Sometimes, for amusement, I recall vividly my memories of taste and smell from the inexhaustible bank of sensory memory.I also used other techniques to make up for the lack.I simmered my memories of food in a slow simmer.We can come to the table and have a meal any time, very relaxed.If you use this as a restaurant, you don't need to locate it in advance.If I cook, the host and guest will enjoy themselves.The beef in red wine is greasy, the beef in frozen sauce is a bit transparent, and the apricot egg tart is a little sour, which is just right.On a whim, I prepared twelve snails for myself, a dish of sauerkraut and peanuts with pork, and a bottle of golden wine made from overripe white grapes.Sometimes all I want is a poached egg with a half-cooked yolk on a slice of bread with salted butter.It's so fun!The warm egg yolk flowed into my mouth and throat, flowing in thinly, slowly and warmly.There will be no indigestion problems.Of course, my ingredients are all selected: the freshest vegetables, fish just picked up from the water, and tender, fatty lean meat.Every step should be very particular.To be more thorough, a friend sent me a recipe for the traditional Troyes bratwurst, which is made with three different kinds of meat and wrapped with string.Likewise, I also place great value on the change of seasons.At this time of year, my palate sips the cool flavors of melon and red berries.And I will lock up my appetites for oysters and game in the autumn, for I am more sensible and better able to restrain my appetite.

During this long period of not being able to eat, at first, my insatiable appetite required occasional visits to my imaginary pantry.I am always hungry and thirsty.But now, as long as I have a handmade sausage hanging by my ear with a rope, I am very satisfied.For example, dry Lyonnaise sausage that can be cut into thick slices and irregularly shaped.Cut a small piece of dry red sausage and put it on the tip of your tongue, let it melt slowly instead of chewing it, and don't taste its full taste once.This wonderful enjoyment is a precious experience. Touching it will open my memory box and remind me of the past forty years ago.At that time, I was very young, still at the age of eating sugar, but at that time I especially liked to eat foods made of pork.I still remember that every time I went to see my grandfather in a dark apartment on Hasbai Avenue, I would beg for sausages, and I, who couldn't read my words, always put the s in the pronunciation of saucisson. , z, ts read very childishly, very pleasing.My grandfather had a special nurse who took special note of my penchant for sausages.The caregiver was cunning enough to please children and the elderly who love food; she gave me sausages and killed two birds with one stone by marrying my grandfather before he died.My joy at receiving the gift of sausage was exactly proportional to my family's rejection of this unexpected marriage.I have a vague impression of my grandfather, except that he is very similar to Victor Hugo on the old five hundred franc banknote at that time, with a serious face, elongated and in the dark.But I was very impressed with the sausages, and I vividly remember how incongruously they sat with my Matchbox car and children's storybooks.

I'm afraid I'll never have a better sausage.