Author / Ying Zhigang
Tang Shu and Tang Yan quarreled, saying that they would not be ruthless when they said, "No matter what, I'll pick two tassels to Nanjing."
Nanjing, naturally went to my nephew. Taro, planted in its own land, is not expensive, but it weighs on the burden and has weight.
Picking up two tadpoles to find me thousands of miles, uncle Yu Tang, this is a very glorious thing, I will naturally look at this "heavy gift", and invariably save him for a few days.
Fenghua's taro is well-known. I heard a female student from a relatively young family in a primary school classroom.
The teacher asked, "What are the special products of Ala Fenghua?"
The female student raised her hand and stood up, shaking her head and shaking her head, "I ran across Sanjiang Liuquan and had eaten Fenghua taro buns."
There are three water systems in Fenghua River, Yongjiang River and Yaojiang River in Ningbo area. There is one dock on each side of the river, which is called "Three Rivers and Six Wharfs".
"Running across the Three Rivers and Six Piers" means that they have seen the world. Fenghua taro steamed bread is so unexpected that it has been used by people around the world to show off.
My grandfather planted it all his life, and he always planted a ridge every year. I don't have excessive feelings for taro, because this stuff is too much to eat.
But I like its puffy leaves. When you look at the watermelon field, you can pick it off and shade it on your head.
Later, I looked at some novels with unknown origins. Some fairy-like characters collected dew for tea, and lived 99 years old.
So every day I picked a crock pot to go to the taro ground, and collected the morning dew surrounded by leaves.
Naturally, there is no tea to cook in the family, but she is forcing her grandmother to drink it. "Aniang, Ainiang, the book says that drinking this dew can live forever."
The grandmother smiled, and carefully observed whether the water in the tank was clean or not, and coped with it.
Wait a few days after the summer vacation, you can collect taro. Everyone has a big head of taro, and there are several egg-sized taro on the side.
Remove the stems and leaves, with a touch of pink taro on top of the brown-yellow skin, ranging from one or two pounds to three or four pounds.
The taro was picked up that day, and my grandfather used a bamboo basket to carry it to my home in the city. He put down the load and had no time to drink a bit of sugar water from his mother. He even shouted, "Go, go, and go taro." . "
Fenghua taro skin is thin and powdery. The big ones are usually steamed and cut in a pot.
"Soy sauce is delicious, Mi Dao Zan Sha", this is the authentic way of eating in the past. Grandfather can eat half a meal, and pouting while eating. "Taro has eaten, the energy is lame."
Later, someone picked taro to go to Shanghai to see relatives, and came back to talk to the villagers, "Shanghai people eat Zansha, dipping sugar, it's delicious!"
So it spread, and in the future, whenever guests came to the house, they also learned Shanghainese, cut the taro into thin slices, and used a shallow bowl to "finely package" and dipped in sugar to entertain.
This "imported" way of eating was not used to my stomach. I went back to the mountain village to visit my grandparents on weekends, and I was pulled and eaten a few tablets when I was visiting each house.
At dinner time, looking at the taro on the dinner table, the stomach slammed into the river, and it itched in the throat for a night of "bitter bile water".
But I like the roasted meat of taro dumplings. The taro dumplings with the gravy fragrance wrapped in soft glutinous.
There is also a kind of "roasted taro" burned with the marinade of pickled seaweed. The outer skin is dried, salty and fresh, and the powder is eaten in the mouth. When chewing, there is a feeling of fullness in the mouth.
When I left my hometown and lived in various places, I also saw farmers harvesting taro, all of which were throwing off the taro and throwing their stems and leaves into the ground to make fat.
What a pity.
As a child, my grandmother would pick up the thick stems to go home, tore off the skin, and use a thin layer of salt to layer the rice in a clay jar to marinate "taro".
After the New Year's Eve, the taro stalks fermented by time will be salty with acidity and soft and waxy at the entrance. It is the "pressed rice hammer" that the ladies in the village have the best.
Shaoxiao left the boss and returned to his hometown.
When I returned to the mountain village where I was a child again as a middle-aged person, I saw that Tang Yao had a dish of sesame oil and sprinkled a few MSG "taro noodles". I rushed to the front and gave up a table of seafood.
Uncle Tang met with amusement. "It's so light. I don't need to pick taro in the next trip to Nanjing. I can just hold two cans of taro."
"There are fewer people pickling right now." Tang Yan was busy looking for a clean glass bottle. He searched for the remaining taro and took me away, and asked me, "It doesn't look like pickled. Yummy?"
Can't help but wonder. The original land and mountains have not changed, but the old people add new tombs, and their familiar faces are no longer found.
Village curing technology has benefited from generation to generation, and my grandmother did not inherit it after my grandmother died. In fact, those homeland flavors that are stubbornly rooted in my taste buds are not only easy for mountain villages to inherit or change the taste.
It's hard to tell if the taro was really sour. The middle-aged man who lived hard in the foreign country all the way, opened his eyes, worked hard for a while, and shed a tear of homesickness.
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