At this time, it is not the peak tourist season for Mount Fuji, the town under the snow-capped mountains is depressed, and a few scattered courtyards are crumbling, sparsely populated, and the shadows of the trees are building.
There was a faintly lit light bulb falling in front of the wooden door, like a moonfire that cut off the desolation, illuminating the wooden door underneath, so that Yang Ming could see the faint four words on the signboard on the door.
"Sukiya Hashijiro".
"It turned out to be here, and I finally found it" I just don't know how this restaurant is, maybe it's just as tricky as some black shops "Jingle Jingle Bell" Yang Ming gently pressed the gilt bronze doorknob, and with a little effort down, the wooden door naturally opened outward, and the sound of the welcome bell ringing in his ears was clear and beautiful.
The wind and snow all over his body seemed to melt and dissolve at the moment he entered the door, and the slightly drunk warm light in the store shone on Yang Ming's body, staining him with a shallow halo, he exhaled lightly, and the cold breath of Mount Fuji was long, but it disappeared invisibly on the way forward.
Maybe it's getting late, there are not many customers in the store at this time, the old man at the counter is buried in the accounts, and there is a sentence to talk to a customer who is eating, and his tone is slightly surprised: "Hey, have you actually found a job?"
"What are you talking about" Ginji took out a napkin and wiped his mouth, "I look like I can't find a job?"
Jiro Ono looked carefully at his slightly pale face due to the long absence of sunlight, as well as his hands as delicate as works of art, and nodded seriously: "Like." ” "What's the matter?"
Yinji didn't give up, and had to ask why.
"Didn't you just get up, who will go to work, just got up at this point," Jiro Ono said reasonably.
"I'm on the night shift, do you know" Yinji glanced at the old man, "Okay, I'll put the money here." ” "Uh-huh."
Jiro Ono doesn't seem to have finished his account yet, and he is still struggling there.
"By the way, do you offer supper?"
asked Ginji again.
This time, Jiro Ono raised his head: "The store closes at half past nine, and I also want to rest." ” He's not as laid-back as Ginji, who can sleep until the evening and wake up leisurely.
"Okay, okay."
Ginji waved his hand, "Then I'll go." ” "Slow Walking" When Yinji passed by Yang Ming's side, he unconsciously looked at this slender young man, how long he could pass by was only a few seconds at best, but this did not prevent him from taking a closer look at this person.
Most of the children raised in the water towns in the south of the Yangtze River have a common characteristic, tender and lovely, and the young man in front of him is no exception.
What's more, although he has a handsome face, there is still a bit of vicissitudes of charm between his eyebrows and demeanor, which adds a lot to the heritage.
Yang Ming smelled the smell of soup wafting from his body, green onions, seaweed, sesame oil, and some indescribable aromas.
Yinci has always been self-familiar, whether he knows it or not, he can put on two sentences, not to mention that although the person in front of him has never seen it, he always feels a little familiar, so his brain has not turned around, but first looked at the wet marks on his shoulders and asked: "It's still snowing outside?"
Yang Ming was stunned for a moment, but the innately cultivated cultivation of the small shop owner made him quickly talk: "It's long gone." ” It was when he accidentally touched a tree branch on the road and hit the falling frost that had fallen and got wet.
"That's right."
Yinji rubbed his hands, sighed in the palm of his hand, and said before pushing the door out: "It's cold, let's eat a bowl of wontons." ” Eating a bowl of wontons, this sentence somehow fell a seed in Yang Ming's heart, so much so that after a while, when Jiro Ono asked him what he wanted to eat, he blurted out: "Let's have a bowl of shrimp wontons." ” "Okay, please wait a minute."
Jiro Ono answered fluently.
Wonton is one of the oldest folk foods in circulation, and it can also be regarded as a classic example of water and soil cultivation on one side, and wontons in various places are different in terms of title, practice and taste.
But no matter where the wontons are, whether they are flat food or wontons, most of them have to take advantage of the fresh and hot strength to swallow them in one bite and feel the smell of fireworks in the world to the fullest.
On a chilly day like this, a steaming bowl of wontons is the perfect fit.
The wontons are already thin, and they don't need to be burned for long, otherwise the small boat that is swaying on the soup noodles will be ruined, Yang Ming sat on the seat and fiddled with the Indonesian-style dragon-shaped incense pot for a while, and a bowl of wontons was served in a short time.
"This is the shrimp wonton you ordered, please use it slowly, if you want to add vinegar, the vinegar is in the small bottle next to your right hand."
Jiro Ono said softly.
"Thank you."
Yang Ming nodded very politely, but there was no movement in his hands, he never added vinegar to his wontons, and the soup that the store had been boiling for a long time, if he didn't know how to add some condiments into it and lose its own taste, it would be worth the loss.
"That's a pretty good look."
He smacked it carefully as if he were observing an antique presented by a guest, and under the soft light, the tender wonton wrappers fluttered in the soup like a veil of snow, and the tight reddish shrimp was wrapped in it, moving with the waves, like the insatiable fat goldfish in a park pond, revealing its white belly, and the sparkling waves on its body flowed.
Yang Ming gently scooped up a wonton, the square thin skin folded and wrapped in the filling, just touched the lips and teeth and then slid smoothly into the mouth, and the fine and soft skin, the filling that melts in the mouth, coupled with the mellow soup, the taste is really immortal.
The mouth was first soothed by the undulating skin and soup, and then gently bit the meat filling inside.
No matter how well the dough is rolled, the meat filling is not good, it is all for nothing, the whole thin is too woody, the fat is too fat and too rich, like this fat and thin pork belly is just right, and the shrimp that the shrimp line is drawn clean and clean and bites so gently, as if the deepest treasure can't hide from the probing of Captain Jin, the moist and elastic teeth, the freshness and elasticity of the beautiful thing have nowhere to hide, Yang Ming let out a long sigh, and felt that his whole body was warm
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