My youth with steamed buns

Without this business trip, my return to school trip might have been postponed indefinitely. After all, I have never been back to Xi'an since I graduated from my alma mater, Xi'an University of Electronic Science and Technology.

The reason is very simple, I don’t like this city. In my memory, the gray air, the gray city walls, and my gray reading scores are not so pleasant things. When a memory is labeled as dark from the beginning, it will inevitably make people feel intimidated and unwilling to go through the door and explore the deep scenery.

However, I still can't forget this place. I deeply feel that some kind of subtle and secret emotion like silk thread connects us. When I revisited my hometown this time and sat in the mutton steamed bun shop in front of the school that I had visited countless times, this emotion immediately became clear and real.

It is still the most authentic and authentic Xi’an mutton steamed bun in my memory!

Mutton steamed buns are Xi'an's signature dish. Countless people have eaten them, read about them, and written about them, but everyone is different, and the steamed buns that everyone eats are also different. no the same. From taste buds to feelings, from feeling emotions, and finally from emotions to thoughts, in the final analysis, what you eat is something related to memories. As a result, food becomes a matter of personal appreciation, and everyone's taste is unique. My mutton steamed bun story, of course, is the same.

When making steamed buns, the base is of course steamed buns. There is still debate over whether steamed buns are the same thing as steamed buns. But before I went to college, in my hometown in Hubei, I only knew about steamed buns but never about steamed buns. The first time I heard and saw it was on the first day of military training in college. At noon, I followed the team to the canteen. Each person put a steamed bun on the table. It was hemispherical and gray in color. It looked like a steamed bun, but it was bigger than the ones in my hometown. It made me feel full just by looking at it. But when I took the first bite, I knew that my judgment was very wrong. This was definitely not a steamed bun, at least not our Hubei steamed buns. In my mind, the steamed buns were sweet and soft, but the ones in front of me were as hard as rock and tasted like wood residue. If I didn't add pickles, I couldn't eat them at all. I swallowed it with saliva, and there were tears in my eyes, but the instructor still forced us to finish it. It was simply a torture, like a killing blow for the newcomers. When I first entered the university campus, my attachment to my hometown and fear of the future reached its peak, and I couldn't sleep for the first time that night.

However, the difficulties are only the beginning. Military training is more difficult than imagined. Because our school was transformed from a military school into a local university, many military school traditions have been preserved, including the intensity of military training. Where other schools can be at odds with each other, our school never deals with it. Other instructors and students enjoy themselves happily, but our school regards each other as enemies. Although it was September in the golden autumn, the lingering power of the scorching heat was not diminished at all. We kick forward, stand in military posture, and do military boxing. We sweat profusely every day, soaking our clothes, and then drying them in the sun, leaving white salt stains on our backs. From a distance, they look like pickled dried meat. Chuanchuan stalls on the playground. The instructors and trainers, carrying copper-tipped leather belts, stared at the dried meat eagerly, ready to devour it in one bite with a ferocious face. According to word of mouth among the students, the instructors are active duty soldiers and the trainers are from local military schools. They were bullied by veterans when they first joined the army. Now they finally found an opportunity, so they wanted to take revenge on us. Of course, boys have nothing nice to say about them in private, but the delicate girls are also resentful of these big-headed soldiers who have no mercy and no less venomous words and curses than boys. But after all, arms cannot twist thighs. Under high-pressure rule, how to escape oppression has become the most common question we think about.

Asking for leave is the first solution that comes to mind. Several roommates and I were locked up for half a month before we found the opportunity to take leave and go out. Several people immediately rushed into the food street outside the campus, like hungry wild beasts, looking for food everywhere with green eyes. Anything that could not be bought in the cafeteria was our coveted target. After a heavy meal, the boxes of mung bean cakes I brought back became a panacea for everyone's taste buds. Girls have used this method to the fullest. The pain, discomfort and troubles that women may encounter are almost all shown in the reasons why girls in our school ask for leave, so that we once guessed that the instructors probably learned more about it. It’s common sense about women’s physiology.

Of course, you cannot ask for leave every day. Being lazy without being noticed is the best way to deal with it. The main secret of this method is to locate the instructor's position at any time and quickly transmit the information to everyone's ears.

So there was the following strange scene on the training ground: everyone kept whispering some very concise words and phrases, such as "the left hand side of the first row", "the direction of ten o'clock", and "the southeast corner faces the northwest". As the words spread, in a large group of hundreds of people, everyone seamlessly switched between doing training exercises seriously and being lazy at any time. This strategy was so successful that the instructor did not discover the secret until the end of the military training, and we were able to relieve our fatigue a little from the harsh training.

After the training during the day, I couldn’t bear to finish the dinner in the cafeteria as usual. The only thing I looked forward to was the sleeping meeting after lights out at night. It seemed that I wanted to make up for the time I couldn’t talk during the day, so the meeting always lasted until very late. Night. There are three people from Hubei, two from Beijing and one from Fujian in our six-person dormitory. The topic every night is the competition between the north and the south. Students from Beijing have the sharpest tongue and specialize in popularizing Beijing-style jokes and gossip about celebrities who cannot be put on the stage. The students from Fujian were the most vigorous in explaining the traditional customs of southern Fujian, so much so that we once questioned whether Fujian people would dance around the bonfire after dark to pray for success in the war against neighboring villages the next day. As the largest group, the Hubei people contributed their hometown dialects and curse words, and explained why our water quality is actually no better than that of our northern brothers. Of course, since there are no Shaanxi people in this dormitory, Shaanxi will naturally fall to the bottom of the contempt chain in the dormitory, allowing everyone to complain and gain everyone's unanimous approval.

We chatted enthusiastically like this, and then fell asleep one after another when we were tired. We continued to train and work hard the next day. Every day passed over and over again, like a song on a loop. After looping thirty times, it finally came to the end. The military training was about to end, and something magical suddenly happened. The instructor who was hated by everyone turned into the cutest person overnight. The boys lingered in front of the instructor's dormitory and called his name. The girls cried bitterly regardless of the image, and acted out the life and death scenes in the TV series. To this day it is difficult for me to understand this wonderful transformation, a month of gnashing of teeth and hatred, and the last day of being as close as family. How can I explain this? I guess it was probably because we were too easily infected by the atmosphere at that time! Having just left the arms of my parents, and living so closely with peers of the same age for the first time, one person's sentimentality will soon be contagious to everyone, and such intense emotional beatings will only appear in young years. Young people are like grass on the wall with no firm stance, always swinging back and forth on the boundary wall between hate and love. I gnashed my teeth in hatred, but when a warm breeze blew, I remembered the kindness of that person, and immediately fell into the garden of love, loving her heart-breakingly.

After experiencing the hardships of emotion and body, we all have the feeling of being reborn. Military training is indeed a strict coming-of-age ceremony. After the ceremony, college life quickly gets on the right track, and the new world begins. The doors are finally starting to open to us. Freedom is not only back, but more than before. The study room and library are a treasure trove for good scholars, and those who love fun can also find a paradise in clubs and Internet cafes. The cafeteria finally no longer has a monopoly on our mouths and stomachs, and I was able to discover another face of steamed buns in a small shop outside the school. It turns out that the unpalatable steamed buns can only be broken into pieces and soaked in hot mutton soup to release the refreshing wheat aroma and soft and glutinous texture, becoming the basis of the deliciousness of a bowl of mutton steamed buns.

With the strong capital of steamed bun slices, other ingredients have the opportunity to perform, and mutton is the most eye-catching protagonist. Although there are only two or three slices in a bowl, they are the finishing touch. Good mutton must be cooked until it is soft and chewy, and it must be able to bring out the deliciousness of the soup. Its flavor can be incorporated into the steamed bun slices and vermicelli, making the whole bowl look spectacular. The raw material must be northwest sheep, because its meat is compact and has no smell, so it is the best sheep. Shaanxi is located in the northwest, so there is no shortage of good mutton, so there are too many delicacies here with mutton as the main ingredient. In addition to mutton steamed buns, there are also grilled mutton skewers, which are national snacks that can be found on the streets. Of course, you can also buy raw meat for barbecue. As long as the skill is not too bad, it will be quite interesting. In order to have a taste of this fun, we actually organized a massive group barbecue event.

It was my junior year, and the school authorities, who had always been cautious and conservative, actually approved the student union’s application for a spring outing, and they could also have a barbecue. When the news came, people were excited and we started taking action that day. Everyone was assigned tasks. They bought mutton at the vegetable market, charcoal at the market, snacks at the supermarket, and borrowed baking sheets from the canteen. Supplies were piled in the dormitory, and they talked all night long without sleeping. When the bus came the next day, I loaded up my bags and got on the bus, like a tourist group frantically shopping for goods.

When we arrived at our destination, we were greeted by the lush greenery as soon as we got off the bus. I saw green mountains and pine trees in the distance, misty clouds and mist, and gurgling streams in the valleys, coming all the way along the green grassland. There are many large rocks on the water bank, which are as high as stools. They are spaced about ten centimeters apart, just enough to hold a baking pan. Seeing that the natural conditions were so superior, everyone was already greedy, so they immediately rushed forward and formed their own teams. Some people are stacking the charcoal, some are laying out the meat, and some are lighting the fire. It is inevitable that things will always go wrong and people will be in a hurry. When the fire was finally lit, green smoke curled up, passing through the meat slices on the grill, and the aroma of the meat was smoked. So everyone stopped and sat around talking, but their eyes were only staring at the meat. Soon the meat slices were sizzling with bubbles, the aroma became stronger, and the hunger became more ravenous. Suddenly someone shouted "It's cooked". He quickly picked up the chopsticks, reached out and grabbed a piece and stuffed it into his mouth. As soon as the tip of his tongue touched it, he immediately shouted "Yummy, delicious" and raised his chopsticks to fight for it. When I ate the third piece, I was shocked to realize that it was half-cooked, so I had to laugh and curse and find some water to rinse my mouth. Although the quality of the barbecue was mixed, it was all gone in a matter of minutes. Put out a new batch, this time with experience, it will taste much better. As usual, there was another melee between the pack of wolves, and in just half a day, the inventory was all gone. After packing up his tools, he had some free time, walked across the stream, found a large flat stone, and lay down on his back, waiting for the coolness to seep into his body and slowly cool down the passion in his heart.

After returning from a spring outing, after all, we were tired from all the traveling. Four of the six people fell asleep before they had a sleeping session that night. However, they only rested for one night, and the next day they were very active. Several brothers in the dormitory shouted to start a war, and a group of people responded and rushed to the battlefield, well, the battlefield of computer games. At that time, it was still the era of PC games. The mainstream was stand-alone shooting games that could be connected to a local area network - Counter-Strike was the most popular among boys. Even if our major has nothing to do with computers, the boys are all familiar with network connection technology. Every time after class, the battles in the dormitories would go on and on, attracting thousands of spectators. The hail of gunfire and bullets was so brutal that although the participants were on a critical line of life and death, the bystanders also felt as if they were facing a formidable enemy. After a battle, I just relaxed a little, and someone immediately broke in from outside, or broke out of the door first. What happened? He also scolded his teammates as pigs. So there was another war of words, and they called each other "guapi". The so-called Guapi means fool, which is a Shaanxi curse word. At that time, we had a tacit understanding that there was no distinction between north and south. No matter how old or young people were, as soon as they entered the school, all curse words must be based on Shaanxi curses. From then on, students from the north and the south started their introductory learning of Shaanxi dialect from the word Guapi. Even many years after graduation, I can still clearly remember those sonorous and powerful words.

But compared to the Internet cafe, the fighting in the dormitory pales into insignificance. Those years were the golden age of Internet cafes. Every university could support at least one street of Internet cafe business. When night falls, behind each dim and ambiguous signboard light, the latest IT technology and the youthful and fearless atmosphere begin to jointly write a new chapter of the era. StarCraft, Age of Empires, Counter-Strike, the large game posters posted on the counters of Internet cafes are constantly changing, the hardware is updated and upgraded, the decoration is becoming more and more luxurious, and the rows of computer monitors are getting larger and larger, and their luster is becoming more gorgeous and bright. The people's eyes stared at each other, watching the sky turn from dark to bright white. But the atmosphere was always lively, with people shouting, rushing to kill, cheering, or yelling, unconsciously ignoring that time was broken bit by bit, scattered without a trace in the wanton joy.

What a waste of time? Today, when we look back on the past, we may sigh that if we had learned one more skill instead of playing games, we might have been at the forefront of the times now. If I had the opportunity to travel back in time and tell me at that time that I must learn the Internet well and save money to buy a house early, would that young me care about such advice? I think the most likely thing is that he would wave his hand and say, who wants to listen to your snobbish words? We are still young and can afford to waste, go ahead, old man, don't hinder me and my brothers from going to the battlefield.

Maybe I will regret it, but after all, it is in the vast future. In a young body at that moment, hormones are the protagonist, often overpowering reason and dominating our choices. Without the calculation of gains and losses, life becomes so simple and pure. Perhaps this is the privilege of youth. On the long road of life, only by focusing and releasing most of the passion in these few years can the dazzling brilliance be left in memories. . Therefore, experiencing life is sometimes similar to tasting Western food. In Western-style meals, beef, eggs, and vegetables usually have their own places and clear boundaries. After eating it in one bite, you can enjoy the different stages, thick and light, meat and vegetable.

The mutton steamed bun is certainly not a Western food, but the way the mutton is cooked is very similar to its attitude. The whole piece of mutton, not chopped or mixed, soaked completely in the soup, you can see it clearly. It will make you understand it before you eat it, but after you eat it, it will make you praise it. Come on, this is more of a test of the chef’s skills.

After finishing the mutton, there are still fans waiting. Although he is not the protagonist, everyone who sells steamed buns will add vermicelli to the soup. Thin rice noodles, crystal clear and as pure as jade, are slowly stirred into the soup. When the clear soup is submerged little by little, slowly seeping into the texture, it absorbs the flavor and becomes edible. Pick it up and inhale in one gulp, slide it over the tip of your tongue, roll it into your mouth, and then slip it into your esophagus. The organs along the way feel like they have been ironed, feeling comfortable and refreshed. Dopamine is immediately secreted in the brain, and pleasure overflows, as if you are in love.

The topic of love was indispensable in that era when fans simply referred to food, but opportunities were extremely rare. Because we are an engineering school, girls are destined to be rare animals. Needless to say, there is no ranking list of school beauties, as long as there are several female classmates in a class, they are all cherished by the boys. At that time, the most beautiful girl in my class was from Fujian. She had the grace and agility of a southern beauty, and her grades were among the best, so she was the center of attention. It's a pity that the girl devoted herself to her studies, had no distractions, and was never moved by love. As a result, all her suitors were defeated, and she gradually became an unattainable legend. However, what I didn't expect was that at the beginning of the second semester of my junior year, a shocking secret was exposed. The boys suddenly discovered that the girl was wearing a ring on her left middle finger, which was a sign of engagement. Later, the girls also confirmed that she entered into a marriage contract with a fellow villager under family arrangements. It is said that this is a tradition that has lasted for thousands of years in some areas of Fujian - family marriage. The news was like a bolt from the blue, and several northern men were extremely frustrated. In the end, they unanimously denounced this bad habit of the Fujian people, leaving several Fujian students in the department tired of defending themselves.

With local resources scarce and being raided by foreign enemies, it is inevitable to want to expand abroad. One day, news suddenly came that the School of Aeronautics of Northwestern Polytechnical University next door had opened a flight attendant class, and it was said that beauties gathered there. That night, all the singles seemed to hear the clarion call for war mobilization. By the weekend, a group of people set out in great numbers and rushed to the front line of NPU. That day, the autumn wind was bleak and the setting sun was like blood. The warriors fearlessly rushed into the battle formation, only to suddenly find that it was empty. Even though he went in and out seven times, he didn't see the legendary group of girls, but it aroused the vigilance of the other boys from the same polytechnic school. In the end, I had no choice but to go home. After further inquiry, I found out that there is a flight attendant major, but it is in a remote branch campus. I had to spend the long night lamenting again.

After being hit repeatedly, many people are not so active. In addition, the era is still conservative. After four years of college, as many as 90% of people have failed in love. This is incompatible with the degree of openness of universities today. In comparison, it is as pure as white paper.

Although most people are bystanders, the throbbing of love has appeared in everyone's heart. Every time you steal a glance at the person next to you, every time you quietly follow his or her steps, every time you toss and turn in lovesickness dreams every night, there are threads of love lingering, sprouting thousands of times, like water plants in a quiet pool. The water is sluggish, and the depths are secretly swaying.

The vermicelli is also like the water plants growing in the mutton soup, meandering gracefully, stretching and moving between the steamed bun slices and the meat pieces, using lightness to slightly neutralize the oily smell, and absorbing the essence of the soup. , the moment you take it into your mouth, it smells like youth.

Is this all about mutton steamed buns? No, there is also sugar garlic. Authentic mutton steamed buns must be accompanied by sugar and garlic. They are marinated whole and placed separately on a small plate next to the big bowl. This is a traditional obsession. I think that if I were to take away the steamed buns, I would definitely not eat it alone, because it is not really delicious. It just makes a crunchy sound when I bite it, like a ritual that declares this bowl of steamed buns to be authentic. Chinese people have a persistent belief in the word authenticity. Not only food must be authentic, but also life experience and personal growth must be authentic. For example, in youth, if you haven’t experienced a few deviant things, it will seem less authentic, and you will have less to talk about at dinner parties.

Fortunately, my youth was authentic, because I experienced the so-called movement.

The first movement after entering college was making noise. At that time, there was a TV in our dormitory, but after eight o'clock every night, the power would be cut off by the dormitory aunt. But the summer of 2002 was an extraordinary time.

The Chinese football team entered the World Cup unprecedentedly. Even though I had never paid attention to sports before, I was infected by the atmosphere and started to study this sport with everyone. One night, it was the Chinese team's World Cup debut. We unscrewed the beer, laid out the peanut braised vegetables, and even put on special T-shirts for cheering. Just as we were preparing for the carnival of the century, the power outage suddenly came as scheduled, and all the expectations and tensions were plunged into darkness. It turned into anger in an instant and exploded instantly. Someone started banging on the stainless steel rice bowl, and then the slap of the washbasin, tap dancing on the floor, and boos like howling wolves intertwined, and finally unified into an overwhelming cry of "call", "call", which resounded throughout the campus. And soon it echoed with other dormitories. Finally, the hostess couldn't resist the strong pressure of public opinion and opened the gate to show compromise. The students cheered and celebrated the victory. This victory was lasting. For a whole month, there was no power outage in the dormitory during the World Cup.

That was the first time in our lives that we experienced our own power, the power of the collective, which turned out to be able to resist authority. It seems that the door to a new world has opened. While we are happily tasting the taste of this power, we are also ignorant of its dangers until the real test comes.

It happened one night in my senior year. I came out of the library to study, and suddenly I saw a dark gathering of students in the square in front of the door, and someone was giving an impassioned speech. Soon a group of people cheered and began to rush outside the school. My gut told me something big was going on. But I never like to join in the fun. Seeing this passionate look, I was so scared that I hid in the dormitory. Then news came that it was Japanese students from Northwestern University who performed a show that humiliated China at the party, causing dissatisfaction among the students. In those years, almost all young students had a hatred complex towards Japan, like dry grass that had dried up for a long time. As long as there was a spark, it could start a prairie fire. Under the instigation of Tanlian students, many students from our school also joined. However, things quickly went sour. The parade attracted some gangsters from society and quickly spiraled out of control. The next day, my brothers who stayed behind in the same dormitory and I watched the mess on the ground, the overturned police cars, and the collapsed gate of Northwest University on the TV news. We were really frightened.

It was later learned that the cause of the incident was purely a misunderstanding due to cultural differences, and there was no intentional insult to China. In this way, a vigorous movement started from an absurd beginning and ended in chaos. Everyone feels that the tower made of beautiful ivory that we have lived in for a long time suddenly collapsed, revealing the true face of the world, which is cruel and insidious.

The passion of youth is always as hot and bright as fire, but danger also follows. If the fire burns too brightly if you are not careful, you may turn around and burn yourself. If one day you learn to control the fire and even know how to extinguish the flames with your own hands at the right time, that is growth. Growth always starts with resistance, and finally compromises. You can't change the world, you have to transform yourself. From then on, the passion fades, and you are gentle and thrifty. Young people are no longer willing to argue, but instead learn to sit around the dinner party, talk and laugh about life, and drink a bowl. Hot tea made with wolfberry.

So, how can they get used to eating spicy food? The garlic that appears with the steamed buns must be marinated with salt, vinegar, and sugar to eliminate the original spiciness and transform it into a mild taste before it can be served on the table. Otherwise, the strong spiciness will only ruin the appetite of diners and overthrow the friendly and gentle image of steamed buns.

After finishing the sugar and garlic, the bowl of steamed buns has come to an end. However, there is no need to leave the table in a hurry. There is still lingering fragrance in the remaining soup, which is enough to slowly savor the delicious time a little bit. , I am not satisfied until I finally see the bottom. I checked out and headed towards the school gate to continue my journey back to school. The road at the door almost belongs to the school, and most of the pedestrians are students. It is just dinner time, and the street is also lively. A group of boys were wearing uniform sports vests and shorts. One of them was holding a basketball and walking while talking and laughing. Three or two pairs of lovers were standing on the roadside intimately, as if waiting for someone, but they were not anxious. They just kept whispering to each other and giggling.

The setting sun in the distance shrunk into a red disk, gently casting a little light, and the world seemed to be covered with a rose-red veil. In that small corner with blurred light and shadow, I seemed to see my young self standing quietly, looking forward silently, with simple and blank eyes.

A black car quietly drove into the street and stopped.

A couple who were standing on the roadside immediately came over to greet them. The boy skillfully took out his mobile phone, checked the license plate, opened the door to let the girl go first, and then went up himself. The car started gently and quickly disappeared from the intersection. The world is still noisy as if nothing happened, but the young me is gone.