Home is in Leshan. The noodles in Leshan, unlike the Zhusheng noodles in Guangzhou, are almost always handmade, half a catty, placed in baskets woven with rattan, and sold by the catty. The average person eats two taels, one tael for small appetites, three taels for large appetites. There are only three kinds of flavors: beef noodles, dry bashful noodles and fried noodles.
On the first day, the whole pot of beef is boiled, adding bamboo shoots, star anise, fennel and chili pepper, and the ruddy soup looks bloody but is incomparably tempting. The white noodles come out of the oven, a spoonful of beef is poured over them and plated with red, butter floats on the surface of the soup in the form of small bubbles, some coriander and scallions are sprinkled, and a few seasonal vegetables are served.
Dried bacon is a type of noodle I’ve hardly ever seen in foreign countries. The meat is minced and fried in oil until golden brown, and then removed from the pot to make the noodles, which are crispy and, most importantly, have a fresh meat flavor, with the fatty and lean meat mixing together and reacting chemically with the oil to create a flavor that you can’t get enough of. Dry bacon noodles without soup, noodles out of the pot, covered with half a spoon of obvious particles of dry bacon, meat flavor and noodles together with the hot air, that is irresistible delicious.
As for the fried sauce, I personally think it is a dry bacon with water, the steps are almost the same, but not as dry, watery and less greasy.
My dad and I love beef noodles, and my mom loves fried noodles. Every time I go to eat noodles, I come to two taels of beef, more soup and less oil. The father is, two two beef, plus spicy plus vegetables. And Mom is, two or two fried sauce, not pepper.
Although the noodles on the three, but each family also has its own approach, such as this beef with dried bamboo shoots, that dry bash put some sprouts (Sichuan specialty, to season), or a fried sauce mixed with some chicken oil …… town is just two or three square kilometers, but there are no less than thirty noodle shops, and each business is booming, relying on those unique The secret recipe.
These stores compete with each other, but also peaceful, good relationship. The street in front of the old house is less than 100 meters long, and there are four noodle shops in front and behind, two of which are next to each other. They have been there for as long as I can remember, and the owners are now middle-aged women (according to the logic of my memory, they should have been in their youth, selling noodles until middle age), and the names of the stores are even similar, one is called “Traditional Old” and the other “Authentic Old”. “, as if they want to stand out and say, I am the oldest. The relationship between the two is not as tense as the name of the store, more than once to see the two bosses exchanging loose money with each other, the clerk also from time to time to say hello. Tables and chairs are placed across the border, and occasionally give way to the more crowded one to sit.
So many years, they should have long been used to each other.
As for the customers, they are all familiar customers. Take me for example, almost grew up eating the row of noodle shops in front of the door. When I was in elementary school, the 7:30 class, the daily always its very early, especially in winter, cold people, foggy, walk a few steps hair full of water drops. The first thing you need to do is to get up early and drag me out to eat noodles, along with your mother’s footsteps, there are several lighted noodle stores, through the mist, through the water droplets, hazy and clear, only to lead you there. Sit down and order a bowl of noodles, two or two beef, more soup and less oil, two or two fried sauce, not pepper. A few minutes, the steaming noodles will be served up, rub your face over, huffing and puffing, a stream of hot air hit your face, really warm.
This is how the first five years of elementary school passed, until they moved.
The town is small and the chances of running into someone you know in the morning are high, often eating and looking up, sitting next to a certain classmate or a certain colleague, a polite greeting each exchange of pleasantries, and then trying to pay the bill, is almost always staged scenes. Two people were fighting for a few dollars of noodles and kept saying “I’ll do it”, “I’ll do it”, as if their voices were louder than each other, and those who didn’t know thought they were going to fight. The boss looked on indifferently, unperturbed. Finally, there is always one party who feels that it is almost time to go to work, or rushed to buy food, so they give up and leave a sentence, tomorrow I’ll! And he left. The boss hey, tomorrow there will be money to earn.
The noodles of the hometown are wrapped in childhood and memories, which keep turning in the mind. My sister said that after going out, even to Chongqing, which is famous for its small noodles, still think that Leshan’s noodles are the most delicious. Every family is the same noodle, but every family makes a different taste, never repeat, but all the same delicious. There are friendships, memories, neighborly pleasantries, and a wanderer’s longing.
The other day, when helping a friend move, I stumbled upon a noodle shop, a small storefront, not very flashy decoration, but a familiar Leshan flavor. Remember that place, after homesickness, go to eat a bowl of noodles, commemorate all the love and sorrow.
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