The frozen pears in Northeast China are truly austere. They are a kind of austere delicacy. When you first come across frozen pears, you'll doubtless be convinced without hesitation that they must have a position in the army of the Lich King.
They are just like a newly born black hole, exuding a sense of the ruthlessness of the universe all over. When you bite into them, it's as if you're devouring the stars.
The harsh climatic conditions in the Northeast have created a batch of outstanding food ingredients. It's a bit like how Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote "Crime and Punishment" in the freezing cold of Siberia.
The formation of frozen pears is surely tinged with a solemn and stirring air. Compared to ordinary fruits, they are more like the obsession left behind after a certain kind of life has passed away.
When winter is approaching and the cold is spreading everywhere, the pears on the branches also meet their end. They curl up in the winter night, no longer singing the praises of the beauty of summer. They look at the lights down the mountain but don't have enough courage to embrace loneliness. They gradually stop thinking in the night until they turn pitch black.
Some people say that the color of frozen pears is the mark left by frostbite. Others say that it's the last ripple that pears give out after they imagine being burned by a big fire, using their will to fight against the severe cold but finally perishing.
The taste of frozen pears is different from that of ordinary pears. Their juice is sweet and delicious, and their flesh melts in the mouth. They don't have the slightly gritty texture of ordinary pears. They become smoother, just like a person who has endured the blows of society, hiding their true temperament and smiling at everyone ever since.
When you take a bite of a frozen pear, a stream of sweet fruit juice immediately rushes into your mouth. It's like biting into a holiday balloon filled with Minute Maid juice or reading an unpublished collection of poems by Jorge Luis Borges.
You seem to see a bomb transforming into a flower. Many people will never understand until they die why frozen pears, beneath their devilish appearance, can possess such an innocent taste.
There's a set of procedures for dealing with frozen pears. You can't just start biting into them directly. That would be a terrible waste, just like using Cuban cigars as firewood.
First, you have to thaw them. You should put the frozen pears in water and watch them gradually warm up until a thin layer of ice forms on the surface. This process is somewhat similar to trying to hold back a dying person.
Then you need to break the thin ice and rescue the frozen pears from the eternal cold. At this time, the frozen pears will become soft and sticky. They will serve you wholeheartedly like a rescued princess.
Finally, you just need to tear a small opening and slowly savor the smoothness of the frozen pears. The flesh will slide into your mouth along with the movements of your mouth. It's very proactive because it's repaying your kindness.
In the Northeast in winter, hiding in a warm room, picking up a frozen pear, gently biting through the outer skin, sucking the flesh that still has bits of ice in it, looking at the aurora that doesn't actually exist outside the window, and feeling the fragrant taste of the pears, you'll fall into boundless fantasies as if you yourself have become clear and transparent.
When eating frozen pears, you'll pray that the days will always be fixed in the depths of winter so that you can stay in this wonderful moment forever.
An apology can make a girl cry, and a heavy snowfall can turn pears black. Frozen pears are so common in the Northeast. On the roadside in winter, you can see vendors selling frozen pears at any time. Frozen pears are the youth of countless people in the Northeast.
At five o'clock in the afternoon, walking out of the gate of the state-owned factory, casually buying a few catties of frozen pears and getting a few bottles of beer, going home, turning on the TV, slumping on the sofa, waiting for the frozen pears to thaw while watching TV programs, and days pass by like this one after another.
We often say that we should be brave enough to be the first to eat crabs, but we still don't know whether the first guy who tried frozen pears was thinking of seeking death or had already perceived the dazzling light hidden in this darkness.
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