Text | Tang Shuxun
If it is spring in April, the green onions on the southern slope of my home are growing leisurely. Mother pulled back a large handful, washed it at the well, chopped it into pieces, cracked two eggs into a large blue and white porcelain bowl and mixed them with green onions. Pour it into the pot with a "chish" sound. Immediately, a strong aroma wafted directly from my stove, and suddenly there was a aroma floating in the sky over the entire village. At that meal, I will definitely eat two more bowls of rice than usual. It can be said that that was probably the most beautiful taste on my tongue at first.
In a country home, it is unrealistic to eat scrambled eggs with green onions for every meal. Carrots, salted beans, homemade bean paste, etc. became the standard ingredients for three meals a day when I was a child. Therefore, I most hope that there will be guests at home. Once guests come, my mother will always try her best to prepare a few decent dishes. Even if it is vegetarian fried lettuce, more oil will be added. This is also the sincerity of mother's hospitality.
I remember there was Secretary Wang, who was said to be the director of the production team stationed in the city at that time. According to the usual practice of the production team, it was his turn to come to my house for lunch that day, and the production team leader specially prepared half a catty of meat. Give me home. I haven’t smelled meat for nearly six months after the Chinese New Year. When I was eating, Secretary Wang picked up a piece of pork belly with chopsticks and put it in my bowl. The moment I took my mouth, the aroma of the meat lingered for a long time. On the tip of my tongue, it's almost too much to swallow.
Although I rarely eat meat, my family does feed pigs. What I remember most is that every time after dinner, my mother would carefully sweep up the unwanted leftovers on the table, pour them into an old washbasin, and put some rice bran, along with Stir the pot-washing water together evenly and bring it to the pig pen to feed the pigs. The kitchen and stove are clean and tidy, and nothing is wasted.
Six months later, the pig fed by my family will be driven away from the pig pen by the production team leader, and divided into small portions by the village butcher. They will become the food on everyone’s tongue in the production team. delicious. My family is a half-family household, and my father works in a factory in other places for many years. When work points were the only basis for distribution, my family only received a pot of pig blood, a pair of small intestines, and two pounds of neck meat, which was considered a generous reward for my family's six months of raising pigs. No matter what, this is considered meat, and my brother and I were still very happy. Seeing us happy, my mother's tired face actually showed a warm smile.
Food is the most important thing for the people. On the premise of eating well, the first thing is to eat enough. It can be said that in my father's and grandfather's generation, they were all struggling to have enough food and clothing. They go out early and come back late, working hard, and the hunger in their bellies has long covered all the flavors on their tongues. Therefore, when it comes to food, the most important thing for generations of my family is food, and they strictly follow a family rule, that is, do not waste food, and eat as much as you put in the bowl.
I heard from my father that there are seven sisters in the family, and they all sit at a large square table when eating. Although it was a very spectacular sight, my grandfather's request was not to eat or sleep without talking, especially not to allow even a grain of rice to fall on the table. In those days, it was pretty good to have rice to cook with. When had you ever seen dishes that were delicious, tasty, and tasty? No, you can only taste meat during the Chinese New Year. One time when my father was eating, there were a few grains of rice left in the bowl. My grandfather's face dropped immediately, and he called my father to the dining table in the kitchen, pointed at the bowl with his rough index finger and said loudly, "Eat clean!" Don’t you know that one grain of grain is one grain of sweat? ! I think that my grandfather at that time was not only an order, but more importantly, he was passing on an indestructible family tradition of diligence and thrift.
There was no good food to eat at that time. It was a blessing to be able to fill our stomachs, my father said.
Everything my father said was true, especially in those days. I believe this very much. Perhaps it is because of the traditions inherited from my father that I still have a reverence for food. There will not be a grain of rice left in the bowl after every meal. No matter whether there are vegetables or not, or whether the food is good or bad, my family On the dining table, there are basically no leftovers thrown away.
When I was seven years old, I was studying in my hometown. When I was studying, I had to walk through several fields and a village before arriving at school. My mother got up very early, put the prepared breakfast on the table, watched me finish eating, and then went to work in the production team. After eating, I put the remaining rice into a ceramic cup that my father brought back from the factory, and I took it to school for lunch.
One time, my mother even put half a piece of salted fish on top of the meal! It was such a long walk, and I was already hungry before I even got to school. I knew that was my lunch meal and I definitely couldn’t eat it on the road.
During class, the rice and half a piece of salted fish in the ceramic cup placed under my desk attracted me like a magnet, tempting my hungry stomach. When get out of class finally ended at noon, I rushed to the playground behind the school with my cup in my hand, and couldn’t wait to open the rice cup. Soon, the rice and the half piece of salted fish were quickly put into my mouth one by one. In today’s terms, It's called "eating in seconds". That taste is really good! After the food only stays in the mouth for a short time, it is quickly stirred by the tip of the tongue and quickly enters the bottom of the stomach. The cup that had just been filled with rice looked as clean as if it had been washed. I saw on the side of the playground, the puppy that had been looking at me left in disappointment.
As we grow older, and the fields are divided among households, the family no longer has to worry about running out of food. During the Chinese New Year in the first year after the farm was divided into households, my mother went to a town ten miles away and bought eight kilograms of pork. I still clearly remember that the fat of the pork was really thick, shining brightly in the winter sunshine. My mother said that on the 29th of the twelfth lunar month, all the new year’s goods will be available, so feel free to eat them! The more we eat, the more we will have! There are grass carp and pork hanging on the wall of the kitchen house. In the wooden barrel, there are tofu made from soybeans ground by my mother, and celery grown in my own land. The firewood in the stove was burning brightly, and I saw the red flames rising to the edge of the pot. The aromas caused by the collision of meat and ingredients quickly came out of the pot and directly stimulated my taste buds. All these ingredients are turned into sumptuous dishes on the table through mother's hands. On the night of New Year's Eve, while eating the New Year's Eve dinner and looking at the table of sumptuous dishes, my taste buds gradually opened up like a lotus flower.
The days are slowly getting better. The dishes on the dinner table have gradually become more abundant. The dishes cooked by my mother also have a delicious color and aroma. Sometimes I accidentally dream that I see the dishes my mother cooked are still steaming on the table, and I bring them into my mouth with a chopstick. I feel a taste of happiness that I have never experienced before on my tongue.
As we get older, many things fall into the long river of time. When looking back on the past, every sight and thing in my hometown seems to be clearer, especially the taste of the rice I have eaten, the light jar dishes, and the feeling of hunger, which are always preserved in the memory of my tongue. , no matter when, no matter where, I will remember and often reflect on it.
On TV, there is a channel showing a special program about the taste on the tip of the tongue. It was all country delicacies, including firewood in the stove, bamboo shoots on the mountain, and even snails in the fields. Their color and fragrance arouse people's appetite again and again. The ingredients and scenes that are the same in my hometown are played again and again by the photography equipment in the city without any taboo.
I suddenly thought that the more time passes and the more time passes, no matter the delicacies of mountains and seas or the delicacies of the world, the simplest taste that remains on the tip of the tongue in hard days will always remain in life. In the taste buds.
Author: Tang Shuxun, a native of Yongzhou, Hunan, works in Xiangtan. He likes reading and writing, photography and calligraphy, growing flowers and grass, and everything beautiful in life. This article is a work contributed by the author, and the pictures are all from the Internet.