The human stomach does have memory.
Although many of the delicacies I once ate when I was a child are hard to satiate when I am away from home, the aftertaste is lingering in my memory for a long time.
From now on, no matter where I am, there always seems to be a strong cry deep in my heart, calling the wanderers in far away places to look towards their hometown often. It turns out that homesickness also needs an excuse!
I have deep feelings for food because it is closely connected with my relatives and hometown. It has not only cultivated my growth, forged my temperament and enlightened my dreams.
The delicacies of my hometown are countless and beautiful, but the memory of the stomach is often selective. The flavors that most evoke memories are the most delicious and wonderful ones, and they are also the ones that best reflect the characteristics and soul of the hometown.
Noodles are affectionately called "his son" by people in his hometown. It sounds more like loving parents calling their children nicknames like "gouzi" and "nice". The thick local accent is wrapped in a thick layer of love.
deep feeling.
Grab a handful of yellow millet from the can, scoop in some soybeans, and add a lot of water. The resulting rice soup is the most suitable for cooking, and it must be made by the most diligent housewife.
It is chewy and chewy when eaten.
When the rice dumplings are placed in the rice soup pot and kept on high for three to five minutes, the "rice dumplings" that I once loved the most can be fished out.
The light rice soup and the white rice noodles do not require any seasoning. The hometown people who only know how to be honest and dedicated have never thought about having too much extravagance in life. The rice noodles also resemble the character of the hometown people - straight away.
White and rustic!
When the bowl is brought to the table, a plate of "spicy pimple" pickles that have been pickled since last fall has been mixed on the table early. The pickles that have not been preserved over time are lack of soul when accompanied by rice cakes and sprinkled with red oil.
Spicy, this kind of pickle has enough character.
Salty and spicy, spicy and fragrant, one chopstick of rice and pickles, with a rustling sucking sound, it sounds very exciting, just like the days of farmers, the salty and rich, spicy and hot,
Light and rustic.
? "Paper" is not something unique to my hometown. Nowadays, it can be bought in major shopping malls and supermarkets. It just changed its name to a more literal name - "stone cake". There are also various tastes available for people.
Choice, but I always feel that I can’t taste the same taste as when I was a child.
"Having cakes on July 15th" is a custom in our area. As for the allusions and legends, there is no way to verify them. My mother said they were all passed down from the older generation. Who knows what the meaning is?
The dough is spread out into a cake, which can be thin or thick, about the size of a bowl, and rolled with dark "flower salt". The essence is all in this black mass. I can't remember exactly what it is. Anyway, it smells
It smells good when you wear it.
A large iron basin half filled with stones was placed on the fire. First, use a horse spoon to scoop out part of the hot stones, then spread the bread on the remaining stones in the basin, and then return to spread the originally scooped out stones.
Flatbread.
After a while, the aroma will overflow from the stove. It is a friendly flavor of seasoned salt and wheat flavor.
You need to quickly grab a handy small shovel and pull the dumplings out of the pot. If you are not careful, they may burn and become mushy. It must also have a short temper.
The dough is crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. There are pits of different sizes left by the stones. It looks like the pits are as bumpy and difficult as life, but the burnt yellow color of Guiman's whole body really makes him proud.
!
The day was very hot, the fire was very strong, and my mother sweated a lot. Before I could wipe it off, it fell into the pancake. Now I finally understand that the long-lost smell in childhood turned out to be my mother's sweat!
Every New Year's holiday, my mother would steam a grate of steamed buns for my uncle in Shenzhen and mail them to him, especially the "vegetable steamed buns" made with wild vegetables and the "sour jujube steamed buns" mixed with jujubes.
It is deeply loved by their whole family. It has been more than ten years since my uncle's family left their hometown and they still miss the taste of their hometown.
He said that the steamed buns from his hometown are still delicious and can bring out the aroma of wheat ears and the flavor of his hometown. The soil and water in big cities are far inferior.
It seems that food is sometimes like people. It has left the soil that it once relied on and lacked the nourishment of the mountains and rivers of the hometown. No matter how bright and beautiful the appearance is, it can't hide the loneliness in its heart.
Not long ago, my uncle who was just recovering from a serious illness called my mother and said that she still wanted to eat "vegetable steamed buns". My mother agreed and put down the phone and said to me in embarrassment, it's already out of season, where are the wild vegetables?
I said maybe my uncle was homesick. My mother didn't say anything for a long time, but tears kept rolling in her eyes. She also missed her uncle.
? "Steamed rice" is originally a delicacy that can only be made by "millet" from the Loess Plateau, and has strong regional characteristics.
In today's era of economic prosperity, smart companies have packaged them into commodities and circulated them in the market.
Looking at the exquisite packaging, I can't help but have a lot of thoughts. This kind of delicacy makes people feel familiar and strange at the same time. It should be the jewel in the crown, how can it be wandering in the mundane world!
Alas, Zhanfan, like me, has drifted away from my hometown.
And I can only search hard for the traces of the past in the fragments of memory, ruminate on them, and miss them.