Radish, for most people, is definitely a strange word. Not to mention eating, maybe few people have heard of it.
But I can't forget it.
In the early 1990s, I was sent to a middle school in a small town far from my hometown, where I lived and ate, so I was called a "resident student". At that time, the "day students" were extremely happy in my eyes, because they could go home and eat fresh meals every day. I can only bring vegetables once a week. In order to ensure that the vegetables I brought are enough for six days, only dried vegetables can be filled in the glass jar. Careful mother will definitely remember to fry me a wet dish, even if it's just a can of vegetables, which can relieve my stomach for a moment. What kind of torture is it to eat dried vegetables for a week? Just thinking about it is enough to make your stomach tremble.
In those years, things at home were not bad. It is not uncommon to find things like fried fish, fried meat and peanuts in bottles and cans brought to school. In the eyes of other children, this is not bad. But I really can't stand the bitterness of these fried things in my mouth. Every time I finish a can of wet vegetables, I start an embarrassing confrontation with the next few meals. There is endless hunger on one side and unbearable pain on the other. This dilemma still gives me goose bumps.
At this special time, radish appeared in my life.
The first time I ate radish was by chance, in another class. Curious, I picked up a piece of dried radish cut into strips and put it in my mouth and chewed it twice. This chewing suppressed me for a long time, and my almost failed taste nerve was reactivated. Crispy taste, a faint sweetness lingering on the tip of the tongue, a box lunch, the first time to eat so fragrant. After dinner, I ran back to the dormitory, took out all the two cans of fried meat and fish left in my box and replaced them with the dried radish of that classmate.
When I came home at the weekend, my mother and I talked about mountain radish. Mother looked surprised. What's delicious here? Few people in the family eat that thing.
From that week on, there will always be one or two cans of dried radish in my schoolbag. Because of the adjustment of dried radish, other dried vegetables I brought began to be accepted by my stomach. Three meals a day is no longer my pain, and my face gradually turns from yellow to ruddy. Accompanied by radish, I successfully completed three years of junior high school study and admitted to a secondary school that satisfied my mother.
The summer vacation after graduation, I stayed at home comfortably, and I no longer had to endure the suffering of eating dried vegetables, but I still thought of radishes. Under my pestering, my mother finally agreed to take me to pick radishes. Only then did I know that most of my favorite radishes grow in deep valleys, and it often takes hours to go back and forth. Pulling out the turnips on the mud surface is still very small, and it takes a lot of work to make a can of dried radish.
Looking at my mother's small body, trying to pull out the radish growing deep in the mountain stream, my eyes suddenly became wet.
Now there are many opportunities to taste all kinds of dishes, and many wild vegetables have become pets at banquets. Like most diners, I like to order some wild vegetables whenever I get a chance. Green consumption is a fashion, and my stomach, which is over-fattened by big fish and big meat, is really full of enthusiastic expectations for fresh and refreshing wild vegetables. I've eaten a lot of wild vegetables, but I haven't eaten radish, not in ordinary restaurants. Even if there is, I never take the initiative, because I am worried that when I see radish, I will think of the way my mother picked it for me, and my heart will hurt involuntarily.
[Delicious Hakka Fried Potato Steamed Bun]
Almost all the friends who came to Hakka Mountain and were honored as distinguished guests have tasted a delicious dish cooked by the host-fried potato buns. Not long ago, I was invited to a party and was lucky enough to be a guest in Ganzhou, the hometown of Hakka. When I came to the home of a literary friend, I tasted this delicious food.
Wenyou lives in a small village in Xingguo, Ganzhou, a famous general county, and is an authentic Hakka. He told me that the local people almost grew up smelling the smell of fried potato buns, and said that although they often eat this kind of food on weekdays, they never get tired of it. It makes my mouth water. At Wenyou's home, I not only tasted the most authentic Hakka fried potato buns, but also saw the whole process of his mother making potato buns.
This unique "potato steamed stuffed bun" without foreskin and stuffing is mainly made of "big potatoes". Wenyou said that almost every household in the local Hakka villagers has the habit of having a big potato, which is the tuber of yam, and the villagers call it "big potato" to distinguish it from wild small potatoes (yam). Due to different shapes, there are "stick potato" and "broom potato" respectively. There are two kinds of sweet potatoes: red and white. The red one is very talkative, and the white one has a white beard. It's really cute.
Friends came from afar, Wenyou's mother was very happy, greeted us to sit down, brought fruit, made tea, and began to be busy making potato buns. I couldn't sit still. I followed Wenyou's mother and watched her make potato buns with great interest. I was as excited as a childhood holiday. I saw her wash the utensils for making potato buns first. This round ceramic dental bowl is inclined up and down, and there is a hole with a thick bowl mouth at the lower end. Radial and irregular grooves are carved around the tooth bowl. The mother of Wenyou with staggered teeth quickly scraped off the potato skin, put the tooth bowl on the jar, held the potato in her right hand, and rubbed it frequently along the wall of the bowl to let the mashed potato flow into the jar from the water outlet. After grinding the potato pulp, add a little salt water, monosodium glutamate, garlic, ginger foam and other seasonings and mix well. The next step is fried potato buns. This process can be called an artistic activity. I saw Wenyou's mother scooped up a handful of mashed potatoes in her right hand and whipped them gently. When the mashed potatoes were about to fall vertically from the palm of her hand, she quickly turned the back of her hand, so that the mashed potatoes were squeezed out from her thumb and forefinger and fell into the tumbling oil pan, looking like a goose egg. Repeatedly wait for the potato buns to rise to the oil surface, and then broadcast for a few minutes. A pot of steaming and fragrant potato buns will be cooked. Half of the oil pan has a circular iron ring. Pick up the cooked potato buns with a colander and put them in the gap between the iron ring and the iron pot. If there is any oil left, you can eat it
Huang Chengcheng's sweet potato steamed stuffed bun, just out of the pot, smells delicious and makes people drool. I was on the edge, so I couldn't help but reach out and put one in my mouth. I swallowed it in a few mouthfuls regardless of the heat in my mouth. The taste is smooth and tender, and the more you eat, the more you want to eat. Wenyou's mother asked me to cool down before eating, for fear of getting angry, but I still couldn't help eating it bit by bit. Finally, she looked at me with a greedy face, so she smiled, left me alone and let me open my stomach and have a big meal. After we finished eating, we saw her in a bowl and distributed it to our neighbors so that everyone could share the fruits of this labor.
Sweet potato is mild in taste, mainly contains amylase, protein, vitamins and minerals, and also contains dioscin and other pharmaceutical ingredients, so eating it will not only be bad for the stomach, but also beneficial to health, so it has long been deeply loved by Hakkas. Every time relatives and friends come home, Hakka people will treat them with fried potato buns to make guests smile. Nowadays, with the improvement of living standards, people don't worry about eating and wearing, but the charm of fried potato buns remains undiminished. On the first day of New Year's Day, guests came to the door, and there was a plate of delicious fried potato buns on the table of Hakka people.