Grandma's Spring Recipes

When the spring breeze blows the young leaves on the two rows of trees along the field, and the stomachs that have been soaked with grease all winter start to stir, Grandma is busy preparing her spring menu.

Crunchy cucumber

Grandma piled up the soil on the balcony of the house, opened a small canal, and sowed the seeds of vegetables and fruits in early spring. When the seeds sprouted sharp little shoots, she sprinkled them with wood bran to keep them warm.

In the middle of spring, when there was plenty of rain, the shoots grew like crazy. Occasionally, small green cucumbers emerge from between the leaves, with a yellow flower on their tails and a layer of fuzz on their long, slender bodies. Soon, the little cucumber becomes a big cucumber and the little hairs turn into little thorns. At this time, I always salivate to pick one first, without peeling the skin, directly with the hand to jerk the small thorns into the mouth to chew up. A mouthful of sweet and crisp, full of the taste of spring.

Grandma would pick the cucumber, peel and cut it into slices, sprinkle a handful of sugar, put two tablespoons of rice vinegar and let it stand for half an hour, then it becomes sweet and sour pickled cucumber. Every time I ate this dish, my appetite would be particularly good, and the crispy pieces of cucumber would jump on my tongue with a pleasant fragrance.

Mugwort cake, fat

When the mugwort leaves are green all over the village, it's time for grandma to make mugwort cakes.

Grandma picks the fresh mugwort leaves, blanches them, then dries them and minces them with a knife, puts them into a large stainless steel bowl, adds water, glutinous rice flour, and yeast, and ferments them together. While the flour is fermenting, Grandma starts making the filling. The salty fillings are mainly: diced salted pork, wild rice, and dried pickled radish. The sweet fillings are fried sesame seeds, melon sugar cubes made from winter melon, and fine white coconut paste.

Whenever the mugwort cakes were made, I would happily stand in front of the big basin and watch my grandmother's skillful hands turn the pieces of dough into chubby mugwort cakes, and then they would line up in the steamer.

The fire of the wood stove licked the bottom of the big iron pot, which sang with a gurgling sound, and the air was filled with the unique fragrance of mugwort leaves. My mood was also getting more and more excited by this smoky and refreshing aroma.

When the dark green body of the mugwort cakes appeared in the steam, I often couldn't resist the craving and grabbed one and ate it, which was so hot that I jumped up and down. With one bite, the whole mouth and nose is a strong aroma of mugwort. The filling is either salty and fresh or sweet and leaves a fragrant taste on your cheeks after eating.

Pan-fried Tilapia

The fish in spring is especially fatty, and grandma would buy a big bucket of tilapia every time she came across it.

Grandma would clean the fish by the stream, open the back side, take them back and sprinkle them with fine salt, spread them one by one on bamboo splints, and bake them in the sun during the day and on the hot stove at night. When all these fish are baked into dried fish, they are tied up with string and hung under the eaves so that they can be taken down and cooked when they want to eat.

The sizzling sound of the fish flesh in contact with the hot oil and the hot and spicy chili aroma in the air made my mouth water.

When the dried fish is lightly browned, scoop a spoonful of soybean paste and sprinkle a handful of cilantro on the pan. The slightly tough fish meat is very chewy, and when you bite into it, it is so spicy and crispy that it seems to spread the freshness of the stream on your tongue.

Occasionally, my grandmother would spread a few dried fish on the hot stove top while cooking rice, and when the rice was ready, the dried fish was also baked, making it a delicious snack that tasted like dried squid with a lot of MSG.

Snail with sauce

There is a clear stream at the edge of the village's paddy fields, and the water is not too deep.

Grandma would put the snails in water for two days to clean the sand, cut off the tail with a screwdriver and wash them. Add a handful of garlic and chili pepper to the hot oil, then pour in the snails, stir-fry for a moment, add shiso and a handful of garlic leaves, and soon the whole kitchen is filled with the unique aroma of shiso.

Grandma said that the shiso not only removed the muddy smell of the snail but also brought out the freshness of the snail. When I picked up a snail and put it in my mouth, I gently inhaled it, and a spicy sauce rushed to the tip of my tongue, with the aroma of shiso and garlic, which instantly made my whole mouth feel like an aroma gathering place.

After sucking the sauce, the fatty and tender body of the snail is sucked out with strong suction, and the taste is smooth and elastic, so people don't want to stop after eating one.

Occasionally, when I came back from school and lifted the lid of the dining table, I would ask disgruntledly, "There's nothing to eat today?"

Grandma answered slowly, "How come there are no dishes to eat? There are vegetables everywhere." After saying that she went to the vegetable field to grab a handful of tender water chestnut back, and then knocked two eggs laid by the family **** chicken, stirred a little, and put them into the pot. The shepherd's purse is fragrant and the eggs are tender.

Nowadays grandma does not turn her vegetable patch much, but she sees discarded sweet potato leaves in the market and will lament, "peeled very tender, under two cloves of garlic stir-fry is a good dish ah." Grandma's food contains her admiration for food. Every meal and vegetable is a gift from nature.