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I dare not say that I can go up to the hall, but the kitchen is exercised from a young age.
In the 1970s, children born and raised in the countryside, as long as their health allowed, which one was not a good helper for their parents to govern the family. At a young age, in addition to going to school, returning home, herding sheep, mowing grass, feeding pigs, helping my mother cook on the fire... As long as it is within the reach of the ability, everything can not be done, and the mother has arranged it, and it cannot be done. At that time, rural children were disobedient, and it was very common for them to be scolded and beaten at worst.
In our family, the four sisters were often disciplined by their mothers, and in my memory, my father never quarreled with us, but we feared the serious father from the bottom of our hearts, and the father's words were many times better than the mother's. My father has been out of the sports car for many years, has a wide range of knowledge, and has also eaten east, west, south and north dishes, so my father has a hand in cooking, and in our family, all the big dishes are guided or spooned by my father. For small dishes, the father is also quite particular, such as cold cucumber, the father must be crushed and then cut into small pieces, so that it is much crisper than sliced, and it is easy to taste. Especially in the New Year' season, cooked meat shredded with cabbage shredded, must be handled by the father himself. The shredded meat should be cut smoothly, the leaves of the cabbage heart should be cut into strips, and they should be cut very finely, add a little shredded green onion, and mix well with garlic paste, soy sauce vinegar, sesame oil, the taste is really good. This dish has always been the highlight of our family reunion dinner table, continues to this day, and will continue to be passed on.
Much of my love of the kitchen comes from my father. The silk-cutting technique I was best at and loved was something I learned from my father. When I was a child, when I could cut vegetables with a knife, my father saw that I was chopping potatoes in a disorderly way, not only laborious, but also like sticks of different lengths. Father will demonstrate, while patiently explaining the essentials of shredding, to first cut the peeled potatoes into thin slices of uniform thickness, and then obliquely step by yard together, the right hand holds the knife, the fingers of the left hand naturally bend and hold the potato chips, the first knuckle of the finger should be against the knife surface, the fingertips are inward, to prevent cutting hands. When cutting the wire, the knife is next to the knuckle, do not lift too high, and gently rise and fall. I became deeply interested in the method taught by my father, and after repeated practice, I soon cut out a thin and uniform variety of silks, which was very fulfilling, so that when I was in Tai'an Secondary School, I once helped cook in the school canteen and saw my skillful skill in cutting shredded pickles with a knife, and a master chef directly concluded that I came from the countryside, and he said with a sigh: The children in the countryside have long been in charge. Presumably, he is also a rural man, and he feels empathy.
As the saying goes, often walk by the river, where there are shoes that are not wet. Cutting vegetables, I have suffered a wound that is not light or serious, and I still remember it vividly. In the summer of the year I graduated from junior high school, in the kitchen, my sister burned the fire, my mother held the pot, and I was responsible for cutting vegetables. A large freshly washed wet eggplant, cut with skin, because the eggplant skin is light and slippery, just cut a few times, a careless, sharp blade cut on the finger of the left middle finger. I "Ah" a sound, as soon as I looked at my hand, it was already covered in blood, and my fingers and stomachs were cut open with a deep and large opening. My mother hurried to find something to bandage me, but because the wound was too deep, the blood could not be stopped. My mother asked me to pinch the wound tightly with my right hand and asked my sister to take me to the village clinic on a bicycle. Maybe I hadn't seen so much blood, and my sister was in a panic when she rode her bike. When I got to the place, the doctor took a look and said that the wound was too deep and must be sutured, or it would not grow well. I wasn't afraid to bleed, I was really shaking when I stitched. In the absence of anesthesia, a thick and large curved needle pulled the thread raw through the flesh, the pain was drilled, my tears came down, only a stitch, never let it again. This accident left a great shadow in my heart, so that for a long time I did not dare to use the knife, and I felt palpitations when I saw the eggplant.
People are the easiest to forget, that is, as the saying goes, "good scars forget the pain". After I started my own family, I think it is a very happy thing to cook for my husband and daughter, and I can basically afford to put down the work in the kitchen, no matter what the taste, whether it is popular or not, I am happy in it. Perhaps under my leadership and inspiration, my daughter was very willing to tinker with small tricks in the kitchen in elementary school, and it looked decent, and she created a kind of salty porridge that I never forgot, but after middle school, the school was heavy, and the number of times my daughter went to the kitchen was less and less. But Lao Xia, in the past two years, the enthusiasm for the kitchen has continued to increase, even surpassing me, often learning new dishes from the Internet to try their hands, braised pork is the most successful model, and has been unanimously praised by me and my daughter. Looking at the fat old Xia tie a flower apron busy in the kitchen, it is simply a little cute, it is not the same fireworks. I stole pleasure in my heart, and while praising him, I enjoyed it.
Now, no matter the spring, summer, autumn or winter, as long as I go back to my hometown, I have wrapped up the work of washing vegetables, cutting vegetables and stir-frying, and I will not let my parents do it. My father and mother were most willing to boil corn porridge in a pot, which I couldn't drink in the city. With the thick aroma of porridge and vegetable smoke steaming around the kitchen of my hometown, I was intoxicated and haunted for a lifetime.
About the author: Qingfeng, formerly known as Niu Qingwen, is an electric worker who is fighting in the front line. Read and write in your spare time. Live with your heart, simple and happy!
One Point Heart Dream Literature