Farmers generally pickle pickles, regardless of the type and quality of the vegetables. Anything that they think can't be wasted, crooked, cracked or not pleasing to the eye can be made and put into a jar for fermentation. In a few days, it will be delicious on the table for three meals a day.
When I was a child, my hometown in the countryside was a farmer, and I worked with the land all day. They live with their backs to the loess every day. Naturally, they will not waste every inch of land under their feet, nor will they let go of every crop and leaf planted in the ditch.
? Every time farmers finish their work, they will habitually go back to their vegetable fields to pick up some vegetables they often eat, or dig some familiar wild vegetables in the ridge, go home, pick two fresh ones, then wash them with cool well water, drain them, and simply add salt, monosodium glutamate, vinegar and sesame oil. In this way, a delicious and simple dish is ready, and it is almost snapped up when it is served.
In rural areas, there are not only vegetable gardens in the fields, but also spare places at home. For example, my mother will plant vegetables in all the spare places in front of and behind the house. Almost all vegetables are planted around the house, and some will climb the whole wall, and then some yellow and purple flowers will bloom, which looks beautiful from a distance.
Mom also grows all kinds of vegetables, including tomatoes, Chinese cabbage, loofah, eggplant and pumpkin ... There are only unexpected varieties, but there is absolutely nothing you can't see, such as beans. Mom can grow almost all kinds of beans, long beans, short beans, snake beans and plum beans.
My mother grows vegetables at home, so she doesn't have to plan where to grow vegetables like a vegetable garden. She just scattered the rapeseed in extra places, even in the cracks of bricks. In a few days, tender seedlings will emerge from the ground, which is really beautiful.
The cultivators' aesthetic appreciation of growing vegetables seems to be innate. Without teaching, they will naturally know how to grow vegetables, what vegetables to grow at what temperature, when to fertilize and when to catch insects. Perhaps it is the deep love for the land under our feet and the expectation that food is the most important thing for the people.
There are many kinds of vegetables planted in the field, and the taste is more casual. For example, when my father got up in the morning, he arranged what to eat three times a day. As a result, he slipped back to the ground in the morning and picked two dishes by hand. After returning home, he immediately changed the recipe for the next two meals. Sometimes he even likes to order his mother to put some seemingly nondescript dishes, regardless of hue or taste, and stew them together, commonly known as "the best food in the world is a family."
? In childhood rural areas, refrigerators and freezers have not been popularized, and every household can't eat more vegetables. If there are no relatives in the city, the extra food can't be delivered. There are two main ways to deal with it: first, feeding animals, which was as important as people in the countryside at that time. In that era when there was no automatic machinery, an animal was equivalent to a tractor. When farming was busy, it relied on them to work in the fields, and when going out, it relied on them to replace transportation. The first thing crop growers do when they go home after a busy day is not to cook for themselves, but to feed these animals first. At this time, endless vegetables are chopped and fed to pigs, chickens, cows and sheep.
Second, you can put some salt on the dishes you can't finish, sprinkle with spices and put them in the jar. In a few days, pickles will be pickled. There are carrots, cabbage, wild vegetables and even carrot leaves that must be planted every year in the pickles pickled by my mother. What's more, even the small wild vegetables poked around in the ground can be preserved by my mother's skillful hands and become delicious at the dinner table in a few days. Mother is not strict about the quality of pickles. As long as she thinks this dish has a good appearance, is suitable for pickles and can be eaten, it will enter her eyes. At the end of autumn, her mother will fill the whole pickle jar, which seems to fill the whole autumn in the field.
? Pickles pickled by mother are essential for father to drink. Father can't drink much, but every time he eats, there must be wine on the table, and there must be side dishes when drinking. The types of side dishes are optional, but kimchi is the favorite, also known as the best meal. Every time after a full meal, my father would get up and go back to his neighbor's house contentedly.
Although there are many sisters, because my father is very capable, I had no worries about food and clothing when I was a child. Although there is no meat on the table, I don't just eat pickles every meal. However, my parents like to drink corn residue and eat pickles, even my little sisters. Although pickles are pickled by wild vegetables or home-cooked dishes, they are nothing. However, with the increase of age,
? My father often says that my mother's pickled vegetables are the best in the village. In the village of Fiona Fang, no matter who they are, they will not be pickled into such a taste, just like old wine. My sisters and I are also deeply touched. For example, neighbors guess that mom's pickles are cured, and they will come to my house from time to time with bowls to grab some pickles and go home to cook. Although my mother tells her neighbors the so-called "formula" every year, these aunts will pickle it according to her mother's words, but they will never pickle the taste of their mother.
Later, the land in the village was expropriated, and the sisters all grew up and went back to work and live in the city. Even my youngest brother bought a house in the city. My parents followed my brother back to the city to settle down because of their age. Although the houses in the city are clean, they lack childhood memories and pickles. In addition, my sisters agreed that eating too much pickles was not good, so my mother never pickled pickles in the past two years. And the lively scene in the village is gone forever.
Pickled pickles by my mother as a child is a day for ordinary people in our village. I am looking for happiness in dullness and happiness in busyness. At this time, the countryside is no longer local, and there are only some lonely old people left in the village. Every year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I go back to burn paper for my grandparents, look at my childhood village, my once lively home and the once lively old trees at the gate, which reminds me of my dull and happy childhood. Nowadays, people spend more time going out than staying at home.
? Just like now, I am sitting at my desk, writing about my past childhood and my mother's pickles. Memories bring memories to my mind, and it smells like pickles. It seems that my mother's pickles and childhood fun have been integrated into my life.