I can't forget the smell of fermented bean curd in my hometown. Everyone's hometown has its own unique cuisine. Among them, sufu is a kind of bean product with unique flavor, which can make people feel delicious. Let's share an unforgettable article about fermented bean curd in my hometown. Let's have a look.

Unforgettable hometown of fermented bean curd 1 I have always had a preference for fermented bean curd and other foods, so that I have a special liking for all kinds of fermented bean curd foods currently on the market, including stinky tofu milk that many people are afraid of.

A few days ago, I accidentally ate a bean curd in a snack bar. It was white and tender in color, salty and delicious, fresh but not greasy. I can't help but shout that it's delicious and enjoyable, and the smell of tofu made in my hometown before. I can't help but miss the smell of tofu in my hometown.

In the early 1980s, life in rural areas was still very poor. During the Spring Festival and New Year, every household should make a plate of tofu. Beans, the raw material of tofu, are rich in protein and have high nutrition. Tofu is a homonym of "everyone is happy". Rural people pay attention to auspiciousness during the New Year, which means praying for the whole family to be "happy". First, grind the soaked beans into bean juice with a stone mill, and filter the bean dregs with a mesh cloth. Boil the bean juice in a pot. After the bean curd brain is boiled, use "brine" to make bean curd, then rub off the pulp, put it in a bamboo sieve with bean curd bags and press it with stones. When the water pressure is almost yellow in the bamboo sieve, the tofu with moderate hardness is ready.

After the tofu is ready, you can make tofu milk as needed. Tofu milk is a delicious, unique and nutritious food, which is mainly made of prepared tofu through cultivation, pickling, mixing, canning and fermentation. According to the fermentation technology of sufu, tofu can be divided into four types: pickled tofu, mucormycotic tofu, rhizormycotic tofu and bacterial tofu. In my hometown, sufu is usually preserved, that is, tofu is boiled with water, preserved and fermented into sufu. This processing method is characterized in that the bean curd blank is directly put into a jar without pre-fermentation, and then fermented at a later stage, and matured by microorganisms brought in by auxiliary materials. Tofu made by this method is delicious, salty and palatable, with no peculiar smell, neat and uniform lump, fine texture and no impurities, and has the unique aroma of white tofu, which usually takes about 15 days to eat.

I remember that at that time, our tofu was sealed in a big jar. Every time I eat, my mother always opens the jar of tofu brain and carefully serves half a bowl of tofu brain soup. Because it tastes delicious, the whole family loves it. It's delicious, but they can't let it go. Usually every meal is only the first half.

Now that I think about it, the delicious tofu made in my hometown should have a lot to do with the good tofu, the raw material for making tofu milk. Tofu sold in the market now has too much water, which is soft but not hard, and other additives are added, so it is difficult to have the unique flavor of tofu made in my hometown. Homemade tofu needs to be marinated for a longer time, squeezed for a longer time and has a lower water content, so naturally made tofu needs to be delicious.

I haven't eaten tofu cooked in my hometown for many years, and I really miss the thick tofu smell in my hometown.

Unforgettable taste of fermented bean curd in hometown II. The path in my hometown.

When I was a child, our family lived in the country. It is a very remote village in northern Jiangsu, surrounded by water on three sides, gurgling around the village like a leucorrhea. The hometown road in my memory is more than two steps wide, and the bay is winding and rugged, leading to the town. It takes about two hours to get to the county seat by car from the town. Although the village is only more than 60 miles away from the county seat, it always takes a long time to go one way. Generally, you can't come back on the same day when you go to the county seat. Our family is very poor, because we can't afford to travel. Going to the county seat is an unattainable luxury. Sometimes we go to the town occasionally, and we can't forget that scene for a few days, especially our children are always excited for a long time.

The path in my hometown left a deep impression on me. At that time, due to the weak economy, the villagers in the village were very poor, and every household did not even pick up the lights. I remember that whenever night falls, people who have worked hard for a whole day, carrying oranges and holding cattail leaf fans, sit at the intersection of that country road and around the bridge head, shaking cattail leaf fans, telling stories and pulling them home. The sultry air is full of coolness and laughter. It was on the roadside of my hometown, under the bright moonlight and flashing fluorescent lights, we sat around the old man's knees, with our eyes wide open, listening to the strange stories handed down by the old man from the previous generation. Most of the stories told by the old people are absurd, and some stories often frighten us from walking all night. In the dead of night, we quickly grabbed the adult's hand and slipped home, afraid to show our heads when we got into bed all night.

Although the path in front of my hometown is only two steps wide, it is the traffic lifeline of more than 200 villagers in our village. Neighbors have to go through this path from south to north, so it is a bustling path and a accessible path. People in our village have a tradition of fishing at sea. The villagers organized several large wooden boats to go fishing. Every time they come back, they are all fish Man Cang, and every family can get a lot of fish. At this time, people carried or carried back from the boat with wicker baskets. Along that path, they were like a dragon, one after another, and their faces were full of joy. At that time, I only knew that there was a river on the other side of the road, and there were many boats in the river. Only one day, I sneaked into the town with several children, and I realized that there was such a bustling place at the other end of the road. Although this town is only a two-mile long street, it seems to me that it is a city. From then on, I have a dream in my heart, which has been urging me to pursue unremittingly on the road of life.

There is a power station not far from my home, and there is a computer room in the station, which helps villagers process agricultural and sideline products such as grain and feed while draining water. There are seven brothers and sisters in our family, and we have to process food once every month. Because my uncle's son is my friend, I have to take part in this task every time. The fourth brother pushed several bags of grain with a scooter, and I pulled it with a rope in front. Along the path in front of the door, there were green crops on both sides. White hair floated in the river and green water, accompanied by the creaking of wheels, touching sweat and humming country songs. This scene is simply a landscape painting.

The path in my hometown has left me infinite joy in my youth, but it is not our eternal paradise, and sometimes I feel a little distressed and helpless, which has become an indelible memory in my life. That was when I was in the third grade of primary school. My hometown implemented land reform, and all the farmland was distributed to all families for planting. This policy has gradually improved the conditions of our family, especially because our family has a large population and there is not enough food to eat every year. After the field was divided into households, our family had surplus grain for the first time, which could sell several thousand kilograms every year, enough for our school expenses. One autumn, in order to raise enough tuition for me, my father used a small scooter to push several bags of grain to the town to sell. On the way, a heavy rain poured down and the path became a stirred mud paddle. My father is stuck on the road. The road is dry, the ears of grain have sprouted, and my father has been sad for a long time. At that time, in my young mind, I suddenly felt that this was the biggest difference between rural areas and cities.

That spring, our hometown developed family sideline in an all-round way. Many families unite to make bricks and burn small kilns. My sideline is making tiles, all of which are mechanical operations, producing hundreds of pieces a day. Lubricating oil is needed to make tiles. At that time, there was no special lubricating oil, which was all leftovers from oil processing plants. Every time it must be purchased and transported in a petrochemical plant 40 miles away. Once, due to busy production, I had to ask for leave to help transport oil. Because the road is too small to open to traffic, we have to paddle a cement boat south along the side of the road. Brother paddled behind the boat, and I held on hard at the bow. Due to the headwind, the ship crawled like an ant and moved slowly. When the wind is strong, the ship will go backwards for a while and can't walk for a day 10. The next day, I suggested pulling the boat ashore, but eldest brother had to agree. He steered the boat and I pulled on the shore. There are many thorns on the shore, especially many black locust with thorns. Every step, I have to go through thorns. In order to finish the task and go home to school as soon as possible, my leg was cut and my shoulder was red. Sweat dripped on my injured shoulder and hurt like salt water. My legs were as heavy as lead, and it was difficult step by step, but I persisted. When I came back that time, I lost a whole circle and everyone was black. That oil trip is a pain in my heart forever. I have a dream that one day, people can pull oil back from the road without pulling a boat or crossing difficulties.

Gradually, the villagers are no longer satisfied with that road, and many villagers still hold resentment against that road. One year, as soon as everyone discussed it, they began to dig the road backwards, then widened it two or three times and covered it with brick residue. The villagers said with a smile, this is the way. They drove the tractor back and forth, and the spring breeze rippled on their faces. Later, the leaders of the town said that if you want to be rich, you should build roads first, so as soon as the town started, brick roads became asphalt roads, and people walked on the roads, like mirrors, which were not only smooth but also shiny. Last year, I returned to my hometown. There are no trails, not even asphalt roads. The road to my hometown is a cement road four meters wide. Everyone told me that it was time to build a well-off society in an all-round way. We should make our hometown look like a city. You see, the roads are all paved with cement. Yes, the road is cement, and the house has been replaced by buildings and villas. The road is open, and the villagers live like the city. What's the difference between rural areas and cities? In the future, cement pavement will not only lead to villages, but also lead to every household. In the near future, the river in the village may be built of bricks and cement. I don't think this dream is too far away.