Nowadays, whenever I pass by Lintong Street and see the "Three Fresh Boiled Steamed Buns" signboard hanging on both sides, I can't help but think of the state-run canteen in the northeast corner of the cross of Lintong County's South Street in the past, and think of the scene of eating red meat and cooking steamed buns with my eldest brother.
In the 1970s, rural people used coarse grains such as corn as their main food for many years, and there was always a lack of oil and water in their stomachs. Every time the villagers of Lintong go to the county seat, they must go to the state-run canteen and cook a bowl of steaming red meat. This snack is delicious and affordable, especially moist, and the fragrant broth is even more fragrant. At that time, every time before going to the county, my mother had to bring our brothers a few steamed steamed steamed buns, or burn a pot helmet with coarse and fine grains, in order to save a few cents of steamed bun money when eating red meat, so strictly speaking, we should eat "red meat steamed buns".
The so-called red meat boiled bun is actually a pork steamed bun, and the method is similar to the three fresh boiled buns that are often eaten now. At that time, a broth was three cents and a half cents, and the broth usually had a few slices of rib meat, accompanied by vermicelli, fungus, and coriander, garlic sprouts, and green onions floating on the soup. When the waiter brought us the broth out of the sea bowl, my eldest brother and I approached the edge of the bowl and sniffed it fiercely. The aroma rushed into my nostrils, straight to my throat, and before I could move my chopsticks, I had swallowed my saliva a few times. Then, the eldest brother took out his own steamed bun or pot helmet from his pocket and handed it to me, and we broke the steamed bun into small pieces and soaked it in the bowl. In an instant, the large layer of oil floating on the top of the bowl was absorbed by the soaked buns. We added a little more oily red spicy seeds to the bowl and enjoyed them impatiently. I used chopsticks to put a piece of steamed bun soaked in broth into my mouth, and I suddenly had a feeling of happiness, just like the New Year, the taste of oil, fragrant, and very delicious to eat. What makes me feel the most refreshing is to occasionally fish out a piece of fat and lean pork from the bottom of the bowl, put it in my mouth, chew it up and chew it up, until the teeth are fragrant and unforgettable.
Unfortunately, in the early 1980s, the state-run canteen closed its doors, and the nostalgic red meat steamed bun disappeared.
