My Poet Uncle

My brother-in-law died and I am going to attend his funeral today. I don't have a particularly deep affection for my uncle. The only deep impression of him in my mind is when I was seventeen years old. My uncle took me to a mutton noodle restaurant. He bit into half of the garlic on the plate and told me in Sichuan dialect: "Mutton noodle and garlic don't go together at all. If you don't believe me, just eat it and see."