Memories of the winter melon cup have been since childhood. At that time, my home was near the sea, and every weekend my father would ride his permanent bicycle to take me to the beach to fish.
In the southern winter, even if the sea breeze is whistling, the shore is a vast green, and the ground is crawling with various vines, including many wild winter melons.
My father was fishing, and I was carrying a small bucket on the rocky shore of the child, rummaging through one foot deep and one foot shallow. Don't look at it's winter, but the crevices of the stone are full of small crabs running around, small fish stranded at low tide, and conchs that have not come and are hiding. Although the stones were covered with sharp oysters, they could not resist my interest in catching crabs, and in a short while, there were half buckets of large and small crabs and various conchs. At this time, my father would laugh and shout, go pick a good winter melon!
The winter melon by the sea is probably the seed in the core of the winter melon discarded when the fishing boat went to sea in the past, and it grows on its own every year, gradually growing into a large piece, and the result is quite a lot, the size of a small fist, and the largest can be as large as a small watermelon. If you encounter a small watermelon-like winter melon is the best, pluck it and wash the thick fluff on the melon with seawater and take it home.
Bring home the little winter melon, mom will carefully cut the top, with a spoon to remove the melon and set aside. The small crabs caught are brushed and cut in half with a toothbrush, then salt, dried scallops, and shiitake mushrooms are added into the winter melon, and then the broth is poured into the broth (usually boiled water) and then steamed in water until the winter melon is cooked and the soup is golden, and the delicious winter melon crab cup is ready!
When I eat it, I scoop it out spoon by spoon, and the taste is really sweet, and there is a thick layer of golden crab paste on the soup noodles. When the soup is about to end, use a small spoon to gently scrape along the edge of the winter melon, and the stewed rotten melon flesh will be filled with a spoonful, put in the mouth, and the heat will melt directly.
Time flies, and now I have my own children, far away from home and far from the sea, but whenever I think of the taste that belongs to my mother, I will still buy a small winter melon back, put in the chopped chicken, and stew a bowl of winter melon cup with my own taste for my son.
Winter melon cup, picture taken from the Internet