People called out to each other. Many people who were half asleep in the huts to avoid the blazing midday sun on the sand by the beach woke up, picked up their main poles and pushed the shrimp into the water. They followed the dark trail of shrimp that appeared and disappeared in the water, the main pole leaned forward, the shrimp drifted behind, making the bottom bulge. The shrimp were surrounded by the crowd, drifting further and further away from the shore. Without stopping, the people carrying the shrimp leaned their main poles into the water as a support, took off the stilts they brought with them, put the stilts on their feet to chase the fleeing shrimp. Far out in the distance, several motorboats with nets spread out in front of their bows circled around to catch the shrimp, determined to exterminate the tiny shrimp. The bodies of the people walking on stilts leaned forward, creating small moving dots on the vast blue surface of the sun-drenched sea.
On the shore, women with shoulder poles gathered in groups of three or five, watching the moving dots. Occasionally, a dot would approach the shore. A few people rushed forward, transferred the shrimp from the net into a basket, and then carried it across the sun-drenched sand to their homes. The trays and mats were placed wherever there was sunlight to dry the shrimp, or they simply swept the brick yard clean and poured a thin layer of shrimp so that the sunlight would wither the tiny shrimp. Only by withering the shrimp, not drying them, would they have the bright red shrimp paste with its distinctive flavor.
One sun, just need to dry one sun if the sun is good. (But, why is everything that is one sun in the coastal area “delicious”? Like one sun dried squid, one sun dried mackerel… What about one “fire” girls? Are the old people wrong? One “fire” girls or one girl look so delicious! But this one girl thing is certainly not only true in coastal areas). Before mixing the dried shrimp with the right amount of salt, the fish sauce maker carefully picks up the trash mixed in the shrimp, then puts it in a large mortar and grinds it. That is to make fish sauce in small quantities, but to make fish sauce in large quantities, one must use a grinder, the ancients also used human strength by putting the shrimp in a wooden barrel and pedaling it with their strong feet wearing huge wooden clogs. After that, the fish sauce is kept in jars, jars or wooden barrels for a while until the fish sauce is ripe before eating. Shrimp sauce is a gift from the ocean that enhances the flavor of meals, snacks and enriches the culinary art of the homeland.
Hang was half asleep. The wind filled the small passenger car, chasing away the heat rising from the asphalt road, radiating down from the low ceiling; chasing away the unpleasant smell of burning engine oil, and the acrid steam coming from the old engine. Every time, returning from Phan Thiet to her home in Long Huong, Hang, besides feeling anxious to see her parents and younger sister again, also felt an indescribable joy and… it was hard to tell to someone who was not close to her!
The bus stopped at the South Bridge Intersection, making Hang wide awake as if she had never fallen asleep. The busboy banged his hand hard on the side of the bus and shouted:
- Phan Ri Cua! Phan Ri Cua! Who's going to Phan Ri Cua?
It seemed the bus conductor shouted loudly but alone, unable to drown out the crowd's voices surrounding the bus.
- Who wants rice paper with shrimp paste? Who wants rice paper with shrimp paste?
“Who wants rice paper with shrimp paste?” or “rice paper with shrimp paste”; or simply “rice paper, shrimp paste”… are all advertisements for a typical snack of the coastal region of their homeland. Dozens of people carry bamboo or plastic baskets on their hips, in which the only item is grilled rice paper carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and a small pot with a lid containing shrimp paste.
Not only Hang, many customers bought this snack. The seller carefully opened the plastic bag, gently took out the crispy grilled rice paper for fear of breaking it; then opened the lid of the shrimp paste container, used a spoon to scoop the shrimp paste and placed it in the middle of the rice paper. Hang's mouth watered just by looking at it, her digestive system was working urgently, both her taste buds and sense of smell were moving because of the fragrant smell of the shrimp paste mixed with garlic and crushed chili; then the sour taste of tamarind, the sweet taste of sugar... The crispy rice paper, the rich aroma of rice, the fatty aroma of sesame and the shrimp paste mixture seemed to melt on the tip of her tongue, seeping between her teeth and slowly seeping into the esophagus of the female student who had been away from home for a month. Oh! But in Phan Thiet, there was a time when she craved it so much, Hang bought shrimp paste rice paper from the old lady selling it at the beginning of the alley to her boarding house, but she was disappointed because the sauce was not fragrant and did not have the bright red color of the shrimp but the dark red color of food coloring.
When the old bus started to huff and puff as it slowly climbed Cung hill, Hang had just finished her favorite dish. She lightly brushed off the rice paper crumbs on her clothes before the bus pulled into the station.
*
Hang Pagoda is located on a low hill in Binh Thanh commune, starting from caves with roofs made of rocks stacked on top of each other (later the pagoda with houses across and along as it is today was formed). After a few days off from school, Hang often invited her younger sister to go to Binh Thanh garden and visit the pagoda. The two sisters stood on a high rock overlooking the sea, watching the sails filled with wind heading towards Phan Ri Cua. (In those days, fishermen still used sailboats, not large-capacity motorboats like today). Many times after that, Hang Pagoda returned to the bustling and bustling atmosphere, no longer as quiet as when Hang was a young girl. She still liked to stand on the high rock facing the sea in the past, letting the wind rub against her, although sometimes she felt sad because her youthful hair had fallen out a lot over time. Hang took a deep breath of the salt in the sea breeze, it seemed to have the smell of algae and many creatures in the ocean that the wind generously carried away to give to all things.
Before leaving, Hang and her sister always strolled around the colorful rocky beach, choosing some beautiful rocks to put in the aquarium glass, so that the guppies could have holes to play hide and seek. The Seven-Colored Rock Beach, with tens of thousands of rocks smoothed by the waves and washed ashore at some unknown time, was a unique scene that Hang often showed off to her classmates, promising to bring them back to visit one day. Occasionally, Hang and her sister visited a relative, who gave them a backpack full of bananas and lemons, two specialties of Binh Thanh sand village. The plump, sweet bananas and the plump, juicy, fragrant lemons were two gifts that lived forever in the memories of Hang and her sister's beautiful days.
Hang’s hometown Tuy Phong is the most beautiful place! Hang imitated the saying of a person who had been away for many years and returned to his birthplace in a reading exercise in a textbook she studied in the past. When asked: “You have been to many places, in your opinion, which place is the most beautiful?”. She answered: “My hometown is the most beautiful place!” Indeed, Hang’s hometown is Vinh Hao spring water, Bay Mau rock beach, Hang pagoda, Binh Thanh giant catfish, Phan Ri Cua fishing industry, grapes, apples… And there is also a favorite dish that makes Hang’s taste buds and sense of smell work urgently: Duong shrimp paste!
*
Hang has been away from home for many years.
Every time they visit the free church that their sister preserves, the two sisters have the opportunity to reminisce about their youth.
- Do you remember the old Chinese man's coffee shop in front of the bus station?
She whispered with a sarcastic smile.
- Remember, don't you?
- Remember the person who bought you buns and coffee?
Hang looked at her sister and smiled shyly. The smile of an old person who had lost several teeth looked very misshapen!
The bus station operates from past midnight, with only a few small passenger vans running the Phan Thiet, Phan Rang, Da Lat routes... At that time, after finishing the first level of high school in Long Huong, Hang and her friends whose families had the means went to Phan Thiet to continue their secondary school classes. Every time she returned to school, Hang had to wake up very early, carrying her bags and walking to the bus station to catch the first bus on the Long Huong - Phan Thiet route that departed at 4am. Every time she waited for the bus to leave, Hang enjoyed a cup of hot milk coffee and a steamed bun from the old Chinese man's shop in front of the bus station. The hot steamed buns and hot coffee warmed Hang's stomach throughout the hundred-kilometer journey, until it was time to go to class. Hang often joked: The steamed buns and coffee were delicious not because of the baker and the coffee maker, but because she... didn't have to pay! Hang was given them by a classmate of hers, whose boyfriend's family was very well off.
Love sometimes starts from the first glance, then four eyes meet and it is a shock that makes both of them dizzy. But there are also times when two people live in the same neighborhood, sit in the same class, ride in the same row, share the same hobby of eating buns and drinking hot milk coffee in the cool air of the early morning, and are close, love each other, but they cannot love each other. Hang often wondered why she did not love her classmate who had been in the same class and school for many years? Even though she had expressed her deep feelings for her many times.
Hang cited many reasons, one of which she thought was not solid but kept sticking in her mind. This reason was related to her favorite snack, rice paper with shrimp paste.
On a shared bus from Phan Thiet to home, when the bus was about to reach Nam Phan Ri Cua bridge, Hang confided to her boyfriend her joy and the difficult thing to tell someone she was not close to: she was about to eat rice paper with shrimp paste. Her friend pouted and blurted out:
-Smelly shrimp paste!
She felt disappointed, felt betrayed and retaliated by buying two rice paper rolls with shrimp paste. She slowly broke off small pieces of rice paper, dipped them in the fish sauce and slowly chewed the two rice papers. The fragrant smell of fish sauce with chili, garlic and the crispy rice paper passed through Hang's teeth did not affect the guy sitting next to her. He glanced at Hang indifferently, several times showing annoyance as he brushed the rice paper crumbs that had stuck to his shirt in the wind.
From then on, Hang avoided sharing a car with her friend. She also never took the Nhat Long Huong – Phan Thiet bus again, even though she missed the smell of steamed buns and hot milk coffee.
Is Hang too strict? She just wants to be respected. Rice paper with shrimp paste is her favorite snack. If you don't like it, then don't eat it. If you say it smells bad, you insult me, you insult my privacy. We haven't even been together yet, but if you disrespect me, then... No more talking! Go play somewhere else!
Nowadays, passenger buses travel with their windows closed and air-conditioned. Drivers do not like customers eating snacks because they are afraid that the food will smell bad in the air-conditioned vehicles. The women and girls who sell rice paper with shrimp paste at Nam Phan Ri Cua bridge have long since retired… but what should Hang do if she still likes to eat this delicious snack? Well… Hang should find a good shrimp paste, mix it to her taste and enjoy it, right? How can she give up a rustic dish of her homeland that has seeped into her blood?!
Source: https://baobinhthuan.com.vn/ai-banh-trang-mam-ruoc-khong-129116.html
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