Early in the morning, it is a light rain, which has already soaked the ground. The leaves of the vines are more numerous and luxuriant, stretching and sucking the rain happily, and the air is particularly fresh.

It's suitable to stay at home in rainy days, and after dinner, I will nest under the covers and read books. Wang Zengqi's Taste of the World is a collection of classic essays on food. I bought this book because I wanted to see how Wang Lao wrote about food. After reading these two articles, I had to admire and admire in my heart.

Wang Lao said: A person's taste should be wider and more miscellaneous, and "sweet in the south, salty in the north, spicy in the east and sour in the west" should be tasted. This is true for food, and it should be true for culture.

After reading "Tofu" written by him, I learned about the bean curd skin and dried silk, and the thin skin condensed on the surface of the soybean milk pot was lifted to dry, which was called bean curd skin or oil skin. I used to be confused about tofu skin and oil bean skin. I finally know today. Dried tea is made of bean curd residue, which is a wonderful product to accompany tea. It is chewy and the more you chew, the more fragrant it becomes.

"Dried bean curd is a famous dish in Huaiyang. It is generous and dried bean curd. It is a good master of slicing with a sharp knife. One piece of dried bean curd can be sliced into 16 pieces, and then it is cut into filaments with a vertical knife. This kind of dried bean curd is specially made, extremely tough, constantly shredded, soft and easy to absorb soup."

A piece of Tofu, from south to north, tells you how to call it, how to cook it and how to eat it, just like a recipe, but it is much more interesting and contains more connotations. Wang Lao, like a gourmet, has tasted delicious food all over the world, and then summed it up. Apart from the rich cultural background, experience and experience, his writing is as simple and natural as chatting with you, and he can't help but be attracted and knowledgeable.

At the beginning of Potato, it is written as follows: There are many names of potatoes, Hebei, Northeast China, Inner Mongolia, Zhangjiakou, Yam, Shanxi, Yam Egg, Yunnan and Sichuan, and Shanghai. Except for people engaged in agricultural science, few people are used to potatoes, but I am used to them. I once drew a potato atlas of China, which is a very strange one in my life.

End: I wonder if farmers in China will eat Luo Songtang and salad one day? Maybe even if their life has improved, they will not eat Luo Songtang and salad, and would rather add more pieces of fat mutton to the braised dishes, but maybe. People in China didn't drink beer in the past, but now farmers in Beijing suburbs are used to drinking beer. I hope farmers in China will also like Luo Songtang and salad. Because Luo Songtang and salad are delicious.

I, a native of Gansu who grew up in "I can't cook without potatoes", but I'm not familiar with potatoes. I learned about the habits of potatoes in Wang Lao's article. The crops grown in alpine regions, and the reason why Dingxi produces potatoes and tastes delicious is also because of Dingxi's geographical environment.

"Potatoes originated in South America, and now they are all over the world. In the novels during the Soviet Patriotic War, potatoes and the motherland almost became the same term. Luo Songtang and salad can't be made without potatoes, not to mention baked potatoes and chips with cream. ".

"I don't know when the potato was introduced to China, but I think it was probably in the Ming Dynasty, which had a little fate with Zheng He's voyage to the West. Now it can be said that it is all over the country. "

It also reminds me of the potatoes frozen into ice bumps in the arms of those soldiers in The Battle at Lake Changjin.

Wang Lao writes an ordinary diet so attractively, quoting classics, all because of his love for life, rich experience and profound knowledge, so he can write such a good text.

I don't know when the intermittent rain stopped, but the sunshine jumped in front of me through the window, and my heart danced with it.