I told my mother: I want a special old mold for dumplings.
Mom: The new ones are also very useful!
Me: I just like the old ones.
And then...... My mom went to find her mom.
I got the mold that my grandmother had used for decades, and the years wrapped it with a thick layer of pulp, and four words were engraved on the back: Yu San Bang Tang.
Yu is grandpa's surname.
This detail is very moving. Grand narratives tend to provoke short-lived excitement, but obviously only when they fall into concrete descriptions and records can they be moving. Because it is easy to generate private emotional links.
The mold is not perfect, every texture is engraved with traces of grandma's use, and those wear correspond to the birth of food, which nourished grandma, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and when I was a child, at least four generations have been blessed by it.
Where is my attachment to old things, where is the attachment to the object itself? What is coveted is the precipitation of time in them, and the interpretation of human feelings worn by food in the old times. Therefore, when I touch it, I will have a deep feeling, because where I have touched it, my grandmother has touched it, my grandmother has touched it, and my mother has also touched it.
At the same time, My mother sent some pine pollen, and I thought about going up the mountain to pick pine needle pine buds and come back, and use this mold to make an upgraded version of the pine blossom cake.
This can be described as a food heritage.
