Text/Zhang Youzhi
Among the series of pasta in rural areas of Guanzhong, the pasta in Zhouzhi, my hometown is relatively rare, and many people have never eaten it or even heard of it.
But in Zhouzhi, as long as we talk about noodles, from three-year-old babies to white-haired old people, we all know this kind of pasta, and we can also see that the most famous one is Cuifeng noodles in the southwest tableland, which is famous for its high-quality wheat and flour gluten, uniform thickness, strong taste and sour taste.
According to records, Xiu Xiu, like Guo Kui, is one of the ancient pasta in Guanzhong area of Qin Dynasty. As the name implies, to make dough, you must use wheat flour and flour milled in Guanzhong, pull out a small piece of dough at will, dip it in some water, and pull it by hand into an irregular shape that is slightly thicker than ordinary noodles. After cooking, it is named because it looks like a piece.
According to the older generation, only peppers, flour and vinegar can make authentic Cuifeng noodles in Cuifeng area, and soup can be dried and dipped in water. Judging from the local food culture, it can be summarized as "strong, light, thin, spicy and fragrant", which is naturally full of flavor and makes people linger. There is a folk jingle that describes you like this: from a distance, it looks like a face, but it is not a face, with uniform thickness and palm size. It is cooked in a white and smooth pot, just like a lotus leaf floating on the water.
In Zhouzhi, a hometown known as the "Golden Week", every middle-aged woman can make a bowl of delicious dishes by walking into any village and a yard casually, whether you put down your stomach or not, and have a good meal.
Xiu Xiu has a long history and unique culture. If CCTV shoots China on the Tip of the Tongue for another season, the Cuifeng Xuanwei in Zhouzhi should not be buried, but should be widely publicized.
In the early 1980s, rural economic conditions were poor, and farmers valued food, vegetable oil, sugar and other materials. The power of financial logistics at home is basically in the hands of her mother-in-law. The most important thing is to strictly control the "four cans", money cans, flour cans, oil cans and sugar cans.
For the mother-in-law who takes diligence as the core concept, she naturally knows how to live carefully. Because cooking requires more wheat and flour, it is regarded as a "forbidden area" for family cooking by every mother-in-law. Without her mother-in-law's permission, daughters-in-law generally dare not cook a meal easily.
Under normal circumstances, eating at noon, according to the mother-in-law's will and habits, is to eat noodles. As a puff of smoke curled up, the diligent daughter-in-law put on an apron and rolled back and forth on the chopping board with a rolling pin until it was as thin as a piece of paper and then cut into narrow strips. When the water in the iron pot on the stove boils, sprinkle those fine noodles on a wooden plate and add some green leaves, and a large pot of noodles will be ready. In addition, corn flour is often used to stir up dough and make fish.
Whether it's noodles or fish, a large pot of soup doesn't seem to be hungry. Generally, a young man has to eat at least three or four old bowls, and his stomach is full of bulging soup, which is a microcosm of the current situation of rural economic and social life in that era.
In those years, some daring daughter-in-law who loved to eat were scolded by her mother-in-law for what she had done. The men and daughter-in-law here are holding bowls and eating hard, and there is a burst of abuse in their ears: Jun Jun, you spoil your daughter-in-law inappropriately, and you dare to go to heaven. You cook three times a month and have the last meal. No matter what the next meal is, how much wheat flour is left in that flour jar, can't the day go on? !
I used to eat it in the countryside, mainly when I was doing heavy work. When I was a child, I remember that one year in the twelfth lunar month, my father and those people in the village went to the mountains to cut wood.
Early in the morning, I was in a daze when I was woken up by the busy noise in the kitchen. Mom is kneading dough in front of the basin and making it for dad. Because it is thick and hungry, it is easy to do. Usually when she is not at home or doing heavy work. It takes a whole day, dozens of miles back and forth, and climbing mountains and uphill. This is hard work, and you must eat and drink before you go out in the morning.
The yard was dark, and my father was in the dark, putting the prepared machetes, long sickles, long thick ropes and other guys into the luggage rack car. My father was busy preparing things, but my eyes fell on my mother who was cooking in the pot in front of the earthen stove, because the aroma of pasta floated over and cooked. On the dining table, a big old bowl is steaming, and pieces of palm-sized noodles are even in thickness and shaped like lotus leaves, floating in the bowl.
Mom not only cooks fast, but also can make simple meals with simple ingredients. I saw my mother chop an onion, sprinkle with shallots, order a spoonful of Chili noodles and pour a spoonful of hot vegetable oil. With the sound of "zilla", the fragrance instantly overflowed my nose, attracted my taste buds, and saliva swirled around my mouth.
Looking at me standing by, my careful mother touched my head kindly. Like a magician, she brought me a bowl of sugar from the chopping board, and scooped a spoonful of sugar from the sugar jar on the 38 th cupboard and sprinkled it in the bowl.
At that time, children usually didn't eat any candy, but they felt very happy with a cup of sugar water. Therefore, I am satisfied with the dessert. I not only ate all the dishes in the bowl, but also drank the soup. The bottom of the bowl is dry, the lips and teeth are fragrant, and the memory is profound.
1997 December, the university has a winter vacation. I took a hard seat on the train for more than 20 hours and rushed back to Zhou New Year from Hunan. At the village road, I got off the tricycle and carried my luggage. When I arrived at the village entrance, it was dusk.
My sister happened to be at home with her nephew as soon as I came in. Mom was surprised and happy to see me back. She quickly asked me, have you eaten?
Half a year in Changsha is a land of plenty. Rice noodles are usually eaten for breakfast, and the rest are rice. The noodles sold in the canteen are also machine-pressed noodles, which are terrible, not every day. I love pasta, so I casually said, Mom, I want to eat it.
Mother sighed, put down the burning bellows in her hand, washed her hands, and started cooking with her elder sister, scooping flour, adding water, and kneading dough in the basin. So big sister cooks and washes vegetables.
My little nephew in the third grade of primary school looked at my camouflage backpack and was very curious. He felt this and that, and suddenly found a bowl of instant noodles that I had never eaten on the train. He had only seen bagged instant noodles in the shop in the village before, and it was strange to see this kind of drum instant noodles for the first time, clamoring for it. While cooking, Big Sister cooked instant noodles for her nephew in a small pot.
Mother and elder sister were busy for a while, and a big bowl of delicious and steaming old dishes was served on the table. At the dinner table, the little nephew stuffy head, mouth open, eating instant noodles with relish; At the dinner table, I also rolled up my sleeves, picked up chopsticks and gulped down the long-lost food. In ten minutes, two old bowls were swallowed. What a relief!
Times have changed, and now life in the countryside is getting better and better. They are not only rich in material things, but also worry about eating and drinking. Moreover, the status of their daughter-in-law has never improved. Their mother-in-law no longer "listens to politics", but surrendered power and withdrew from the historical stage. In the past, in order to save wheat flour, most families did not dare to eat it often. Now, for the pleasure of life and the experience of delicious food, people are scrambling to eat it in those farmhouses around the mountain.
In the business atmosphere, farmhouse music looks the same, and the spices are even more varied, but the taste seems to never return to the taste of my hometown, nor is it as delicious as my mother did.
I remember someone saying that food is one's best memory. Any food is a perceptual cultural symbol, and eating it is a different kind of feeling and unique state of mind.
For people who have come from that hard time, facing the difficulties of rural life in the past, no matter how they cook or eat, they think it is the best delicious food. On the contrary, we will never find such a familiar smell!
Now every time I go back to the village, I often think of those years. In the afternoon of that summer, in the wide yard of my hometown, under the grape tree next to the courtyard wall, on a simple wooden leg table, there was a plate of sour boiled vegetables and oily melon seeds. Under the kind eyes of my mother, we served a big bowl of hot and sticky old dishes, and we were sweating.
Brief introduction of the author
Zhang Youzhi, male, 1978 was born in Yonghong Village, Zhouzhi, guangji town. He likes literary creation. He once participated in the establishment of Xinfeng Literature Society in Zhouzhi No.4 Middle School, published more than 100 articles in newspapers and periodicals inside and outside the military, and now works in government departments.