In the north of our hometown, Ququ cuisine has another name-but some villages in the east of the city are quite critical of it, while some villages in the west of the city are quite critical of it. But I like to call it Ququ cuisine, and there is no other meaning. I just think it's interesting. Never mind its name, it is a kind of wild vegetable that farmers like to eat. Every spring, when everything is revived, clusters of Qu Cai grow unconsciously in green fields, ditches and fields.

Ququ is a perennial herb of Compositae, which is leaflike when it is young and stems when it is mature. The stems are erect and about 40 cm high. Its leaves have fine serrations, and its tender leaves are loved by people in their hometown. Generally, after picking, wash it, cut it into sections with a knife, add a few drops of salt, monosodium glutamate and sesame oil and eat it cold. Some mixed bean paste tastes better without salt. Some add a few drops of vinegar and stir-fry peanuts to make them taste more delicious. It's easier for me to eat crooked vegetables. After washing, I'll dip it in sweet noodle sauce. Sweet noodle sauce and koji, one sweet and one bitter, with sweetness in bitterness, are endless fun.

My cousin who served in Lvliang a few years ago came to see me. He told me that diabetes can be treated by cooking half a bitter herb with four duck eggs and eating it three times a day. I haven't tried whether this prescription can cure diabetes, but I think it will definitely lower blood sugar.

One of my colleagues is studying Chinese medicine at school. He told me that Qucai, as a medicine, has the functions of clearing away heat and toxic materials, promoting blood circulation and expelling pus. Chinese medicine uses it to treat sore throat, bacillary dysentery and appendicitis.