Dream bowl of rib porridge
I wonder what kids crave for these days? I wonder if the nutritious porridge shops that are everywhere on the street are any good? But for us kids back then, there was nothing better than a bowl of hot, smooth rib porridge, with a little lean meat and loose cartilage from the ribs.
Pork rib porridge became a childhood memory, from the time I was weaned I got used to the porridge. When I grew up a little, had a baby in the house, and was busy grinding rice, stirring the porridge, feeding the baby porridge, and the joy of scraping the leftover porridge, scraping the burnt layer stuck to the bottom of the pot. When I grew up a little more, I followed my mother to the market and ate a bowl of pork rib porridge.
Pork rib porridge is clearly a porridge for children because it is light, soft, and safer than any other food. This porridge is cooked with rice flour and stewed pork ribs or cartilage ribs, creating a thick paste with a fragrant rice aroma, enough to make the child's stomach and stomach wet like after a rain shower.
One day of the Duanwu Festival, my little brother and I followed our mother to My Tho market and Ly Thuong Kiet market in Nam Dinh city to shop for the fifth day of Tet. Although our feet were tired, everyone was full of excitement, their eyes turned to the front of the market. There were no toy stalls, cotton candy or taffy.
There was only a warm wisp of smoke that appeared and disappeared, rose and then disappeared, leaving behind a fragrant aftertaste. The owner of that magical warm wisp of smoke was an old woman chewing betel, wearing a conical hat stained by the sun and rain. Next to her was a large bamboo basket stuffed with rags, placed inside a shoulder pole to keep warm.
There were always eager faces sitting around the basket. In the middle was a large cast iron pot containing a thick white porridge, as thick as glue and as smooth as the little girl's cheeks. When the old lady opened the lid, fragrant, warm clouds of smoke poured out hastily.
The child’s eyes looked up at her mother pleadingly. The mother smiled gently and pulled her child to sit on a small wooden chair, shiny with nails that were also shiny from the wear and tear of time. “Two bowls of porridge, grandma!”. There is nothing more delicious than the hungry eyes of a child in front of a pot of porridge.
Her eyes seemed to condense into drops on the old woman's hands as she slowly opened the lid, put the ladle in to scoop the thick porridge mixed with pieces of meat, pieces of cartilage, emitting the aroma of rice and pork into a medium-sized, delicately shaped, smooth blue glazed bowl.
Back then, there were no fried dough sticks or shredded meat. A little bit of Northern pepper and a little bit of red chili powder were enough to add flavor and color, making the rib porridge a delicacy in the eyes of children. In those eyes, the old lady's skillful hand holding the ladle and running it around, filling the ladle with porridge without stirring the pot, was truly a fairy's hand.
Pork rib porridge is not a porridge to be slurped around like other porridges, but must be eaten with a spoon. Gently, spoon by spoon, until the bowl is completely cleaned, not a single bit of flour left. The concept of “smooth as wiping” should probably be changed to “smooth as scraping rib porridge” to be more appropriate for the children of that time.
Smoke nostalgia
I grew up, then followed my pen and left the small city, my mother, the afternoon markets and the bowl of rib porridge. The image and taste of the dreamy rib porridge of my childhood gradually faded away with the hustle and bustle of life. Nowadays, children eat fast food, fried chicken, sandwiches... but who eats rib porridge?
Yet, my wandering steps in middle age brought me back to the warm smoke of the rib porridge basket. That rib porridge shop only opens from 2 pm in a small alley in the middle of the capital. I passed by, suddenly the owner opened the lid. A fragrant smoke rose up, entangling the nostrils.
Tho Xuong, like hundreds of alleys in the 36 streets of Hanoi, is located crookedly, connecting two other alleys, Ngo Huyen and Au Trieu. That place is quite famous because of a misunderstanding. Many people think that this is Tho Xuong alley in the folk song praising the beautiful scenery in the West Lake area: "Tran Vu bell, Tho Xuong rooster crow". But that is not true, Tho Xuong where the rooster crows to mark the watch is the name of a village located on the shore of West Lake.
Tho Xuong alley is a vestige of Tho Xuong district (Hanoi) established around 1530, where Bao Thien ward (including the entire Bao Khanh, Nha Tho, Ly Quoc Su areas... now) is located. In Tho Xuong alley, there is no famous "chicken soup" (as a teacher taught her students), but only a bowl of smooth rib porridge.
Smelling the warm smoke of the pot of rib porridge, everyone's heart sinks like a hammock and the beautiful, sparkling memories of childhood. The childhood of the past must be rib porridge, not the "soulless" nutritious porridge that cannot arouse cravings, cannot make the teeth of children with poor appetite due to excess of this and that substance.
I suddenly smiled and sat down on a small chair at the rib porridge shop in Tho Xuong alley. That day was neither sunny nor rainy, neither hot nor cold, the perfect weather for eating rib porridge. The rib porridge lady, who was about fifty, did not look tired, the corners of her lips still had lipstick on them, and she quickly talked to the customers while still remembering every request.
No longer is the cast iron pot of porridge kept in a cloth-lined bottle basket, the rib porridge is now cooked in large but light aluminum pots, always placed on a slowly burning honeycomb charcoal stove to keep the porridge hot, occasionally air bubbles run from the bottom to the surface, making a gurgling sound like a desolate sigh.
The owner quickly scooped the porridge into the bowl, then used scissors to cut the fried dough sticks into the bowl, and finally sprinkled the pork floss on top. Whoever ate a lot of pork floss would let me know, and I was never wrong. The rib porridge was delicious, smooth, and fragrant. The crispy fried dough sticks made the rib porridge more enjoyable to the ear. Once, when I was late, she slipped me a whole bag of fried dough sticks and told me to eat as much as I wanted.
The fried dough sticks are crispy and fragrant, and more delicious than cut fried dough sticks. If you go to a party, you should go first, but if you go to eat pork rib porridge, you should go later so you can eat a bowl of porridge with the fragrant smell of burnt pot bottom, and have the fried dough sticks to fill your pocket. But don't be too late, or the porridge will be gone because that restaurant only sells out around 4 pm.
Pork rib porridge is delicious and very cheap. Only 10-15 thousand dong, like the money for snacks or to pump up a tire. But it still warms the hearts of those wandering around the old town, or killing time all morning and noon in the surrounding cafes.
They don’t need lunch, but they need to eat a bowl of Tho Xuong rib porridge like an afternoon ritual. They eat that warm smoke in the ringing bells from the Great Church, in the chattering of Western backpackers, and in the drops of time alone in the small alley.
But the rib porridge shop in Tho Xuong alley no longer exists. Someone bought the whole row of houses in the alley and the rib porridge shop had to move. Maybe in the future, a hotel will be built in that alley, but the rib porridge shop is gone, leaving only a sad notice of its new location.
And then, that rib porridge shop is now just a memory. But it also left behind a dozen rib porridge shops along Ngo Huyen, Chan Cam, Ly Quoc Su or somewhere on the sidewalks of Hanoi. And the Tho Xuong rib porridge shop that gave me a ticket back to my childhood has disappeared forever with the land changes worth hundreds of billions, thousands of billions.
Only rib porridge is forever a smoky memory!
Source: https://laodong.vn/lao-dong-cuoi-tuan/khoi-chao-suon-am-ca-tuoi-tho-1347162.ldo
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