Rice noodle soup with sliced ​​shrimp

Shrimp rice noodles, also known as salty rice noodles with coconut milk, is a special rustic dish of the Southwest region. Every summer, I get to indulge in my grandmother's rice noodles.

First, my grandmother chooses good sticky rice, soaks it overnight, then rows the boat to the market to grind it into flour. After grinding, the flour is tied tightly into a bag (a cloth bag used to filter the flour and water), and a large cutting board or board is used to press out all the water, forming a thick, sticky dough. Next, she finds a kitchen chopstick with flat sides that are sharp enough to cut the dough. Prepare a 3-quart bottle to roll the dough and a table to grater the coconut by hand. Prepare onions, pepper, garlic, chili, sugar, etc., a bowl of tapioca starch to coat the dough while rolling it so it doesn’t stick to your hands. She climbs a tree to break the coconut.

In a corner of the kitchen, the youngest aunt was grating coconut. Her feet were firmly pressing the grater handle, her two hands holding half a coconut, pressing and pushing the coconut flesh onto the grater. Each white coconut strand fell into the aluminum basin below.

Taking a basket of fresh shrimp, Grandma picked the heads and tails of each one. In just a moment, a large bowl of shrimp was filled. She washed them and put them in a basket to drain. Grandma put them on a cutting board, chopped them finely, put them all in a bowl, seasoned them with spices and shallots, and mixed them well to absorb the flavor.

She poured hot water into the bowl of grated coconut and mixed it well. She used a spoon to scoop it into a cloth and squeezed it hard. Streams of coconut milk flowed out, white and pure, into the clean bowl. She set the bowl of milk aside and continued to add warm water to the remaining coconut to squeeze out the coconut milk into another aluminum pot.

Now it was Grandma's turn to show off all her skills. Put the pot of water on the stove until the wood was just burning. Take the ball out and take the dough and put it on the tray. Grandma's two hands pressed down and kneaded the dough continuously. Occasionally, Grandma added a little flour to knead so that the dough wouldn't stick to the tray and her hands. After about half an hour, Grandma stopped and used her hand to press on the smooth, white dough, which was no longer sticky and had a certain amount of volume. Grandma applied more flour and then broke off small pieces of dough and rolled them into balls like tangerines. Using a rolling pin, the dough gradually became as thin as rice paper. Grandma rolled the dough so that it stuck to the bottle, held the mouth of the bottle with one hand, and pointed the bottom of the bottle toward the simmering pot of water, while using the other hand, she used a kitchen chopstick to continuously cut the edges of the dough on the bottom of the bottle.

Western style sliced ​​rice noodle dish made by the author

Each piece of dough, long and flat, falls into the pot of water. The secret lies in cutting the dough with chopsticks. It has to be fast and precise, with just enough force to separate the dough into pieces but not break when dropped into the boiling water, and the hand has to rotate the bottle mouth continuously. It all depends on the technique of kneading and cutting the dough. Continue like that until the last piece of dough falls into the pot of boiling water.

Grandma turned up the heat, quickly stirred the pot of boiling water gently, so that the cake would not stick to the pot and when cooked, it would turn clear white. Grandma took the pot down, put the pot of boiling water on the stove, and reduced the firewood to keep the heat low. The boiled cake was taken out and rinsed in a basin of cold water to dissolve the viscosity and make the cake more chewy.

The pot of water started to boil, grandma poured in the bowl of shrimp that had absorbed the spices. Waited for the stove to boil for a few minutes until the shrimp cooked evenly and turned light pink. Grandma put all the noodles into the pot, added firewood to burn the mixture, and occasionally used a ladle to stir evenly.

"Why don't you put coconut milk in, grandma?"

"That must be left at the end to keep the fatty taste and aroma of the noodles," my grandmother slowly answered my concerns.

The pot of banh canh boiled, my grandmother took out all the firewood, seasoned it to taste and gently added coconut milk, stirring it briefly to mix everything together. The charcoal fire was enough to make the pot of banh canh boil gently, the fragrant aroma spread everywhere. The smell of rice from the banh canh mixed with the smell of freshwater shrimp, blended with the rich aroma of coconut milk, dissolved into the spices. Creating the fragrant countryside smell of childhood.

Looking at my grandmother scooping the sliced ​​rice noodles into a bowl, with the green of the scallions and cilantro, the red of the chili and the light pink of the broth on top, there is no picture more beautiful than the picture of the taste of the homeland.

Rice noodle soup with sliced ​​shrimp

Love for the homeland is always in the heart.

Source link: https://thanhnien.vn/huong-vi-que-huong-banh-canh-bot-xat-tep-dong-185230618123907119.htm