The first way to process food mastered by the ancient ancestors who ate raw meat and drank blood was undoubtedly "baked".

Baking is closely related to fire, and it can be roasted as long as there is fire. Or in order to roast, the fire will be obtained.

For the ancestors, barbecue was not only a way to process ingredients, but also had the meaning of sacrificial rituals.

In the era of Winters Montagne, people regarded cooking food as the labor of women. A status male would not enter the kitchen, and a family that could afford would hire a maid to cook.

But in those "barbaric" tribes with ancient legacy, on the lands of the Hed and Northerners, slaughtering animals and roasting meat are all the duties of men.

The distribution of meat represents the power of the leader of a clan, and only the tribe leaders can handle it.

This kind of cognition even penetrates into the language, passed down from ancient times to today. When exploring the etymology, many words representing power today are closely related to slaughtering and separating meat.

The strong man standing in front of the fire distributes precious meat to the rest of the tribe, a picture symbolizing power and honor.

If you understand this, you won't be surprised why Gillard Mitchell, the man with the highest status in the entire estate, will personally take charge of roasting pigs.

Gillard came to take charge of this job not because barbecue is easy. It is because barbecue is harder than harvesting tobacco. It requires a lot of effort, and only the strongest man can do it.

Taking the initiative to take on more difficult tasks is not punishment, but an honor.

If Winters knew the past of the Dussa people in Wolf Town, he would be surprised to find that the old Dussa people who were in charge of barbecue with Gillard were all the strongest and most brave Dusaks.

Only Dusak, who had proved himself on the battlefield, was only at this moment when he was worthy of standing next to Gillard to help barbecue.

Invisibly, Girard, Sergei and Dusak also sacred the barbecue.

Because the air is not smooth, the charcoal fire is smoldering most of the time. The grease drips from the barbecue onto the charcoal fire, and the fragrant blue smoke emerges from the gaps in the lid.

The whole process is more smoked than baking.

It is indeed a tired job. You can't fill too much fuel in one breath, so the person in charge of barbecue cannot sleep and must always stare at the furnace pit to prevent the fire from being turned off.

That night, Winters and the old Dusaks watched the six grilling pits together, and from time to time, they filled the bottom of the grilling pit with shovels, opened the lid to check the heat, flipped over, and sprinkled some salt and sprinkled the golden meat.

When there was no need to add firewood, everyone sat on a small chair next to the grill pit, watching the leaping flames in the brazier drinking and chatting.

The air is leisurely and comfortable, with a bit of a "boy gang" atmosphere. The old Dusaks happily talk about past events, tell jokes, brags, and share a bottle of strong wine.

The begging monk Rhett is also very familiar with Dusak's history. He seamlessly integrates into the conversations of the Dusaks and utters a few witty words from time to time, which makes the Dusaks laugh.

It is a pleasant and beautiful thing to sit by the fire and wait for the meat to roast slowly, sweet wine, laughter, warm fire, faint smoke, the aroma of barbecue, the beating wood...

Winters was infected by the atmosphere. After turning the bottle in everyone's hands for a few times, the caster who rarely drinks alcohol was also a little drunk.

Before he knew it, the young Venetta for the first time had forgotten that he was in a foreign land thousands of miles away from home, enjoying everything like an ordinary wolf town man.

Time is unforgiving, and the old Dusaks gradually doze off. From time to time, some people can't help but sneak to the grass not far away to sleep, and from time to time, some people wake up and come over.

The others left and came, and they came and left. The only ones guarding the grilling pit were Girard, Winters and Monk Reed.

Gillard enthusiastically taught Winters's tricks of barbecue, and Winters listened and asked his own questions occasionally.

"Why not just use a high heat? Will it be cooked faster, right?" Winters asked.

Gillard gestured and explained: "You can use high heat to roast small pieces of meat. If you use high heat to roast a whole pig, the outside will still be raw if it is burnt on the outside. So you can only use high heat to tighten the outer skin and use low heat for the rest of the time."

"Barbecue is not as simple as putting the meat rack on fire. It is not only the heat, but also the wood used." The old monk was not sleepy at all, and his eyes were shining brightly by the fire: "The meat roasted from different woods also tastes different."

"Is that true?" Winters looked at Gillard.

Gillard picked up a trunk that was split in half and handed it to Winters: "Father Reed is right. This is walnut, you smell it."

Winters took the firewood and put it on his nose, and the core exuded a faint sweetness.

"I smelled a scent," Winters said.

The old monk pretended to be angry: "Can I still lie to you?"

"When the wood is roasted on a low heat, the aroma will also enter the meat." Gillard said to Father Reid in admiration: "I didn't expect you to know so much about barbecue."

"I don't know, I just ate a lot." The old monk laughed, and patted Winters on the shoulder: "Don't underestimate the barbecue. Mr. Mitchell's barbecue is a great place in the world. Even if it is placed on the royal dining table, it is the finale. It is an honor to taste such delicious food."

"I dare not take it, I dare not take it, I'm too rewarded." Gillard smiled like a flower on his face.

Sergei, who had been sleeping, rubbed his eyes and walked over. He yawned and asked, "Is it baked?"

"Where is it, it's still early," Gillard replied.

Old Sergei looked for it and took out a pipe in his pocket, sat on a small chair and patiently filled the tobacco leaves into the bowl.

After filling and pressing, he repeated three times, he pulled out a wooden strip with fire from the brazier and lit the tobacco, and started to smoke.

"Didn't smell enough today?" Gillard asked with a smile.

A strong smell of tobacco floats out of the tobacco house, which can be smelled even if it is far away. Whether you have the habit of smoking or not, people in Mitchell Manor have become addicted to smoking today.

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content later! Sergei yawned again: "Otherwise you will be sleepy."

Winters heard footsteps not far away, and Vahika and Pierre walked over from Yantian.

Sergei asked his son, "You guy, are you lazy?"

"No, I just come and see if the meat is roasted." Vahika said with a smile.

"It's early."

"Then let's help watch the oven, too."

Old Sergei sneered: "I want to be with this helper, but you two are still a little tender. Go back and work quickly, don't always want to be lazy."

"Then give us some meat," Vahika begged.

Gillard stood up and asked the two little Dusaks to lift the lid from a grilling pit. He pulled out the knife and screwed two little pork skins down at the roasted pork elbow, dipped some salt and handed them to the two little Dusaks.

Then Gillard cut off a few pieces of meat from the ribs, sprinkled with salt and handed it to the others.

This is the first time Winters has had such a delicious barbecue. The meat wrapped in crispy bones is delicious and juicy and melts in the mouth. Although there is a lot of fat, it doesn't taste greasy at all. The condiments Gillard used were just a little salt.

The two little Dusaks licked their fingers and asked for a few more pieces of meat before leaving. Sergei was so sleepy that he couldn't open his eyelids and went to bed.

Next to the grilling pit was the only monk Gillard, Winters and Reed.

The old monk talked about Xingzhengnong: "Second Lieutenant, do you know that there was a blind poet named Homer over two thousand years ago?"

"Although I haven't attended grammar school, I've read "Iliad" and "Odyssey"." Winters couldn't help laughing and crying.

"Do you know what the heroes and demigods in Homer's writings eat?" The beggar monk asked and answered: "It's barbecue. When Odesius visited Achilles, the latter treated the guests with pork and mutton. The meat was the 'meal of the heroes loved by God', and ordinary people made a living by grain. The heroes in the epic tasted this taste. Just as the bright moon above our heads is also the moonlight written by the ancients."

The old monk was losing his bag of books, and Winters was too lazy to pay attention, but Gillard was fascinated by the hearing.

Seeing Gillard interested, the half-drunk Red chanted the original epic text in a long and sang the second paragraph. The second lieutenant didn't know where the old charlatan got his memory, but Gillard became more and more admired.

"The epic demigods and heroes are all roasted and shared with each other." The old monk laughed and said to Gillard: "Mr. Mitchell, who is the heroic model of our generation with delicacies..."

The beggar monk who was drinking used a lot of ancient grammar and pronunciation, regardless of whether others could understand it. Winters was confused while Gillard kept chuckling.

Winters suddenly realized: "This old man... isn't he going crazy?"

The happy old monk suddenly closed his mouth as he spoke. Winters looked back and saw another figure coming out of the night.

Mrs. Mitchell nodded and shook the bottle in her hand: "I'll give you some drinks to you guys."

Gillard stood up in a hurry: "Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell."

The couple still pays great attention to etiquette on weekdays, only calling each other by Mr. Mitchell and Mrs. Mitchell.

Although Gillard Pleninovich Mitchell has a Dusak loud voice and an impatient spirit.

But Winters' intuition told him that the real owner of the Mitchell family is the gentle and virtuous Mrs. Mitchell, just as the real owner of the Serbiati family is Coza.

After sending the wine, Mrs. Mitchell did not leave, but found a small chair and sat down. Not only Gillard and Reed, but even Winters couldn't help but make three points.

In Winters' view: Ms. Ellen Mitchell is an out-of-equity figure in Wolftown.

This is not to say that she is not popular, on the contrary, Mrs. Mitchell is extremely popular. Everyone in the town loves her, but everyone is more or less afraid of her.

This emotion is like an ugly mortal who feels ashamed of himself in the face of a beautiful and holy angel.

The Dusa women all have a spirit of unrestrained and vibrant. They will dance with the young men enthusiastically, roll up their sleeves and milk them, wave the whip and drive away the big animals like men, and tease them with the most vulgar words.

But Mrs. Mitchell had a completely opposite temperament - Winters couldn't explain it clearly - it was a noble, reserved but not arrogant temperament, which made people afraid to be humiliated and dare not be humiliated lightly.

Even the roughest Dusak will take off his hat in front of Mrs. Mitchell, and the lazy long-term worker will become regular in front of Mrs. Mitchell.

Mrs. Mitchell's tone was always gentle and gentle, and her expression was always calm and calm. But the words she said were better than Gillard's hundred yells, making everyone willingly obey.

Tyrants and rich people also have similar abilities, but Mrs. Mitchell did not rely on coercion and temptation, and the people around her were completely convinced by her out of respect.

Not only did the Dusaks respect her, but the farmers respect her, and even the Protestants held the same respect for her.

The respect comes from Mrs. Mitchell's reproachable etiquette and ability. Since living in Mitchell's estate, Winters has never seen Mrs. Mitchell's rude appearance.

Mrs. Mitchell always had needlework on hand, even when reading the account book; her spine was always straight, as if she had never been bent when she was born; her expression was always calm and calm, even when she heard the big bad news.

Winters could feel that Mrs. Mitchell's gentle appearance was a tough character as steel. Although Mrs. Mitchell was a lady, it made people in awe.

So much so that Winters would have a very offensive thought from time to time: How did a Dusak marry a noble woman like Mrs. Mitchell?

"Second Lieutenant." Mrs. Mitchell nodded to Winters.

Winters hurriedly replied: "Madam."

"Father Reed is here too." Mrs. Mitchell nodded to the old monk gently: "I have something to worry about, and I hope to get the wisdom of both of you."
To be continued...