Qingcheng Old Cured Pork

Qingcheng Old Cured Pork

　　This is another highly praised delicacy besides the “Four Treasures of Qingcheng.” The meat has a blackish-yellow exterior with distinct layers and a golden, glossy skin. The lean meat appears dark red and reveals a rosy hue when sliced. It boasts a rich aroma, a fragrant taste upon eating, and a long-lasting aftertaste, offering a uniquely delightful flavor.

　　　“Visiting relatives, never enough, uproot sugarcane to snatch cured pork.” This is a common saying on the Western Sichuan Plains. Every year during the first and second lunar months, it’s the time when locals indulge in cured pork to their heart’s content.

　　　　I love cured pork, and like most people from Sichuan, I have a special fondness for Qingcheng Mountain old cured pork. This place features beautiful mountains and clear waters, and is blessed with remarkable people, so naturally, the pork here carries a touch of the otherworldly. Moreover, the pigs are raised since childhood on a diet of soybean milk congee and fresh pigweed cooked with soft rice and bran. When slightly older, they are let loose to roam the hillsides for a few months before being penned and fed corn until they are slaughtered around the Winter Solstice. Afterward, they are rinsed with mountain spring water, rubbed with refined salt and Sichuan peppercorns, and thoroughly pickled in clay jars until the brine drips dry. Finally, they are hung above the kitchen stove and slowly smoked with the cooking smoke. The longer they are smoked, the more fragrant and unforgettable the taste becomes.

　　　　Because of this hobby, I still regularly make trips to one of the few remaining farmsteads on Qingcheng Mountain to satisfy my cravings. The farmer’s wife, Aunt Li, always greets me with a large cleaver in hand, slicing off a big chunk of cured pork hanging by the stove. She soaks it in rice-washing water, rinses it with mountain spring water, and then puts it into a big wood-fired pot. Usually within twenty minutes, the aroma starts to waft through the air. Seeing the drool at the corner of my mouth, Aunt Li, as soon as it’s out of the pot, picks up a slice of the golden-crimson old cured pork, tears off a rib bone, and hands it to me. Without caring about the heat burning my hands or mouth, I dig in. The deliciousness of the old cured pork often dulls my tongue’s reactions — sometimes I even bite my own tongue and end up with a big blood blister.

　　　　Normally someone who never eats fatty meat, when faced with a plate of aromatic old cured pork, I can’t help but go straight for the fat. Those in the know understand that in old cured pork, the fat is the best part, followed by the skin, then the lean meat, and finally the bones. No wonder whenever a plate of old cured pork is served, it’s hard to put the chopsticks down—even the beauty-conscious women who avoid fatty foods for the sake of their figures can’t resist picking up a couple of slices and popping them straight into their mouths.

　　　　It’s precisely because Qingcheng Mountain old cured pork is such a sought-after item on the market that nowadays many subpar versions end up in diners’ mouths. These fake products first of all have poor-quality meat—they might come from water-injected pigs or pigs rushed to maturity, and definitely taste sour, spoiled, or rancid. Add to that various forms of pollution, and the flavor of the pork is completely altered. Then there’s the smoking process — these are smoked using honeycomb coal or natural gas, which can’t compare to the aroma derived from traditional wood-fired stoves. So if you want to enjoy some reliable old cured pork, you still have to go to Qingcheng Mountain.