Parents' gourmet niangpizi composition

Niangpi, also known as cold rice noodles, is a traditional food for residents in Weihe River Basin. Because of its simple production, main and non-staple food and delicious taste, it is loved by everyone in our hometown.

Niangpi is its nickname, just like rural children were called sheep babies and dog leftovers at home when they were young. So the word "brew" is used instead of the word "brew" in the dictionary. It is also wrong to use "Mao", although some books use it this way; The interpretation of the word "■" is a kind of pasta, but the pronunciation is not quite right. I wonder if it refers to this kind of dough. If you create a word "■" (pronounced ràng), it will be more appropriate, that is, love food. It was not until I went to the summer sleeping mat that I got a scientific name called cold rice noodles, because it was dried and eaten. Cantonese people didn't know what it was at first. Although you have told them vividly for a hundred times, they are still at a loss. At first glance, they thought it was similar to the local river powder. In fact, cold rice noodles are made into a thick paste by adding water to flour, scooped into a special iron or copper container shaped like a gong (commonly known as "gong" by Shaanxi people), so that the batter is evenly covered at the bottom of the gong, then steamed in boiling water for a few minutes, cooled in cold water after taking out the pot, and then circled along the edge with a shovel, and uncovered with both hands, and it was successful. After cooling, cut it into finger width, add oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, garlic, pepper and sesame sauce, and add some blanched mung bean sprouts. It's very delicious.

When I was a child, my family lived a hard life. Cold rice noodles are a delicacy, only when entertaining guests and having a holiday.

Go to eat. In those days, anyone who didn't eat a good meal for no reason seemed reckless and uneasy, and the poorer he was at that time, the more glorious he was, so he always felt that it was wrong to eat a good meal and had to enjoy it secretly behind closed doors. As long as I can remember, whenever my mother just steamed out a few slices, I couldn't wait to roll them up and enjoy them quietly in my yard. I still remember the voracious eating and the loving eyes of my mother.

Later, life became better and better, and cold rice noodles became a common practice for ordinary people and a snack in restaurants in the city. There is also the name of cold rice noodles on the menu. In those small shops that specialize in cold rice noodles, the number of seasonings has also increased to more than a dozen, and the taste is unmatched by families. So there are not many steamed cold noodles at home now. When you want to eat, you can buy it in the street.

In my life, cold rice noodles are one of the first choice foods alongside mutton buns, sour soup jiaozi, glutinous rice balls and oily noodles. Unfortunately, after working in Shenzhen, the food was greatly reduced. These hometown home-cooked dishes should be tasted in some Shaanxi restaurants here, and the taste is hard to compare with hometown. People's eating habits are like this, and their longing for food handed down by their ancestors is like homesickness. The farther away, the more I miss them.

I remember one day in the 1990s, on my way home from work, I accidentally caught a glimpse of a bicycle carrying a food box with the words "Shaanxi cold rice noodles" written on it. I quickly caught up with it. Just like a code word, I asked and answered in Shaanxi before I knew it was really the craft of Shaanxi people. I bought two catties at once, and went back to my residence to mobilize all the seasonings I could put, that is, I buried myself in chewing. At that time, there were many high-rise buildings in Shenzhen, and the prosperity retreated thousands of miles, and I seemed to be sitting on a food stall at the root of Xi' an's thick city wall, full of local accent.

Suddenly, a children's song that was sung well in childhood but has long been forgotten floated from the depths of my mind:

Truman, tall nose,

I want to eat China's minced meat.

Pepper wiped her nose,

Run to the river and wash your nose,

The frog kicked a hoof,

Run to the hospital to see your nose,

The doctor gave a knife,

Oh, my tall nose.

Suddenly, my hometown land, villages, trees, roads and my childhood friends appeared in front of my eyes. ...

Who is the author of children's songs? I don't know. Maybe just a wild old village man. Children's songs reflect the mentality of China people towards the United States during the Cold War, and also reflect the position of bean jelly in the eyes of local people from another aspect. What even President Truman of the United States wants to eat is definitely a good thing. Of course, these words are now comments on this nursery rhyme. At that time, when we were singing, our minds were full of longing for cold rice noodles. The reason why I always love to sing is that this children's song is catchy and has the effect of drawing cakes to satisfy my hunger and thirst.