Craftsmanship Anonymous

On the farm, Grandpa squatted down in front of the fence, saying little and observing the cage-free chicken for a few minutes. He then picked the one he thought to be of the right portion of fat for a certain dish.

I cut the pork in half, first vertically, then horizontally. Changing my position, I chop each quarter lengthwise into 4 evenly sized chunks. After setting a five-minute countdown, I put a cover on the pot, watching the boiling water bobbing around the pork. Oil sips out from the meat’s surface.

Four green pieces of spring onions, fifty grams of minced chicken and half a saucer of Chinkiang vinegar were neatly placed into different sized plates. When my grandfather cooked, he did it in such a methodical way, like a scientist delicately controlling the variable in his lab experiment.

I meticulously slice the scallion, shallot, ginger into uniform sizes and thickness, and spray them over a big white plate. The plate looks like a palette. It’s critical to control the precision of amount and the order of adding.

Cooking is the art of craftsmanship. Conscientiousness plays a big role.

I remove the pot’s cover as soon as the stopwatch rings. Billows of steam! The scent of the special-made oil instantly permeates the whole...