My uncle is only four years older than me. He graduated from junior high school and is now over half a year old. He once worked as a coolie in the construction team, bought waste materials everywhere by bike, and sold small businesses such as rice and watermelon with donkey carts. In the middle and late 1980s, the daily life of people in their hometown was not comfortable. Apart from the cost of farming, they can't save a few dollars all year round. However, honest and proud villagers always have to give generously before the end of the year to improve their lives, cut meat and buy fish, kill chickens and geese, stir-fry in oil pan, and tofu is the first choice and must be bought. Every family has prepared new year's goods to entertain relatives and friends. Hard-working villagers are busy with their own affairs in winter, humble and satisfied. Grandpa is a retired cadre of rural credit cooperatives, perhaps because of years of professional influence and some economic acumen. He realized that there was a great demand for tofu before the Spring Festival, which was the golden business period for making and selling tofu. In addition, the older generation in our village has a tradition of making tofu, so he went to the market to buy a brand-new Rob, a large iron pot, an iron grate, a dustpan and a hand-made wooden scale, carefully selected and purchased high-quality soybeans with large size, fullness and bright color as raw materials, and left the village in this way. Grandma sewed tofu buns carefully at home, and my father made two wooden square containers and tofu sticks for my uncle. Everything is ready, and uncle begins to make tofu. At that time, the rural conditions were limited, and making tofu was a tiring job. There was a lot of water and it froze in winter, which tested people's patience and perseverance. During the winter vacation at school, my parents asked me to go to my uncle's house to help make tofu. Although he is an uncle, he has many topics to talk about, so he is a colleague.
Grandpa pushed a small iron cart to pour soybeans and led me to the mill in the village to grind soybean milk. Grinding soybeans into mud is only the first step in making tofu. When we got home, we put the dustpan with tofu mud on the ground and killed the well. Holding a pressure bar in his hand, he sent water to the iron grate up and down his arm. Grandma began to pour water into the big iron pot in front of Nanwuzao, and then pulled up the heavy and simple bellows. The flame gushed out from the mouth of the stove, burning grandma's wrinkled face red, and the rising smoke and heat covered the old man's white hair. Uncle used a shovel to pour boiling water into a dustpan filled with tofu mud, which is commonly known as "paste" in my hometown. This process is very important. You can remove harmful substances and impurities from the bean curd paste, then put the bean curd paste into a bean curd bag made of fine rob and tie it tightly with a string. The most tiring and crucial part of making tofu begins: I saw my uncle naked, washed his hands and arms with clear water, put two wooden boards on the side of the big iron pot, put the tofu bag on it, and then rub and squeeze the soft tofu bag with both hands to make purer soybean milk drip into the pot, leaving only some tofu residue in the tofu bag, and so on for many times until the original pulp in the dustpan is ground hard, uncle. Grandma pulled the bellows again, and smoke, heat and bean smell filled the whole kitchen. Grandma straightened up, stood in front of the dining room for a while, rubbed the dust on her hair with her hand, scooped up a bowl of pure bean juice with a spoon, and let me have a taste. The slightly sour bean flavor is much better than the so-called "pure nutrition" soybean milk prepared by street stalls. I don't know if I can't serve my stomach now, or I miss the monotonous and simple rural life. Next, it's grandpa's turn to play. He lifted the lid, scooped out some "sour soup" from the small jar, also called "soup stock" (when grinding soybean milk, he deliberately left a small part in the closed jars to make it sour and play the role of ordering tofu with brine) and poured it into a big iron pot. Protein in the puree began to solidify and precipitate when heated, and the sour soup turned into a bean curd. How much soup should I put in? If you put too much tofu, it will get old, taste worse, contain less pulp, and cannot produce enough weight, so the profit will naturally be less; Tofu with less soup stock contains more syrup, and its appearance is not smooth and pitted, so it has to be sold at a low price. Grandpa is a retired cadre, registered permanent residence, and has been living with his uncle. He has done everything in his family life in the fields. He was honest and diligent all his life, and he was not idle in his later years. Sometimes he has to carry a few poles to make tofu and his uncle. They all want to demand and measure each other with their own standards and experience in making tofu. No matter how they argued, the tofu brain was finally put into a square mold, wrapped in emery cloth and pressed into a big bluestone, and the busy figure of the family was a rest.
Zoupingdai groundwater belongs to the southern mountainous area, with the best water quality, clear and pure, and rich in various minerals and trace elements needed by human body. Tofu made from it is tender and smooth, good in taste, white in color, good in beginning and large in quantity, which is liked by men, women and children. Although the groundwater in our village is not as good as that in the southern mountainous areas, tofu made by the elderly through years of exploration, practice and accumulated experience is still very popular in some villages in neighboring towns such as Sunzhen and Jiuhu. Some villages north of Handian, such as Sunzhen and Jiuhu, have high fluorine content in groundwater and many impurities. Drinking this water all the year round is easy to make people's teeth yellow. Tofu made from this kind of water is yellowish in color, small in size and poor in taste, and will not boil in an oil pan. Therefore, the tofu trucks in the southern mountainous areas and my village are very popular as soon as they arrive at Sunzhen and Jiuhu Lake, without waiting for the crispy tofu bangers to ring a few times.
In winter, my uncle and I get up before dawn, ride a big bicycle alone, seal the tofu mold in the back seat, bring a banger, a portable wooden scale and a plastic nylon bag, and set off for the north in the cold moonlight or in the darkest time before dawn, with the faint light of a flashlight. Walking out of the village path to Qing Zi Road, the provincial highway, I saw more colleagues who got up earlier than us, from the south of the city and the west of Dong. They also rode bicycles, wore cotton hats and coats, and ran to their hometown. When I arrived in the village, my uncle stopped the tofu truck and knocked on the bangzi several times. The villagers began to walk out of their houses in the hutongs, and the cold streets became lively. Everyone greeted the uncle, chatted and bargained, and began to weigh tofu, or settled on the spot or on credit. In a short time, a tofu was sold out, and the nylon bag was full of soybeans, corn, wheat and other foods. When we got home, grandma had cooked a meal on the stove waiting for us to come back. I ate a bite of corn flour sweet potato porridge, a big steamed bread, a pancake with green onions, and a bowl of cabbage soup made of bean curd vermicelli and sporadic pork. I felt very comfortable and warm.
There is an old man in the village who is stingy and frugal. Whenever he hears the sound of the bangzi, he rushes out of the house. First, he cut a small piece with a tofu knife and put it in his mouth and tasted it. Then he said that tofu was sour, repeatedly waved that tofu could not be bought, or played a trick to let people weigh tofu first. At that time, he didn't pay the bill, but took it home with a tray, poured the pulp out of the tray, and then went to the tofu seller to say that the weight was not enough. They are all farmers, and tofu owners in other villages are very considerate and want to find out the mood and difficulties of the elderly. In line with the principle of harmony and wealth, let him taste it for free, and it doesn't matter if it is cheap at all. Everyone has food and drink, peace and happiness, and a happy life. Isn't it just a picture? At that time, many people who made tofu in the village did not sell it in the village. I feel that when I was a farmer, I bargained face to face for weight, and my face could not be erased. People's awareness of commodities is not as strong as it is now. Making tofu is just a continuation of another way of working during the winter slack season. On the one hand, you can earn some money to buy new year's goods. On the other hand, if the bean curd residue accumulates, you can fatten up a few pigs and sell them, earn a whole sum of money, and make more farm manure to make plans for next spring.
Tofu is nutritious and can be cold, fried, fried and simmered. As the saying goes, fish makes a fire, meat produces phlegm, and green vegetables and tofu keep it safe. In the cold winter, dripping water turns into ice. The colder the weather, the better the tofu sells. Near the end of the year, it is necessary to book tofu in advance. At this time, farmers who are accustomed to thrift are generous. Most families want to buy a whole piece of tofu, which will come in handy when entertaining relatives and friends during the Spring Festival. My uncle and I are busier than usual. Uncle parked his bike, so he didn't have to hit the car. He moved the tofu mold directly to the farm yard, skillfully cut the whole tofu into dozens of small pieces with a tofu knife, and then wrote down the owner's name, the name of the next buyer and the delivery time on the ledger with a pencil. After a long time, we became familiar with the villagers and trusted each other. We are never afraid of credit. We are too busy to check out. We didn't accept tofu food for the time being, just to save time, get familiar with it and then drive home. Simple and honest villagers dragged me and my uncle to ask for dinner again and again. My uncle smiled and declined everyone's kindness and insisted on going home. We still need to transport steaming tofu and even grandparents. In those years when I made tofu and sold tofu, my uncle gained credibility and friendship. Witnessed the simple folk customs in rural areas and the ups and downs of ordinary people's daily lives.
At the end of the year, my uncle began to calculate tofu accounts in the village. I also want to go back to my parents. My uncle made me a bean curd brain for my parents to cook, but my grandmother said sadly, "Little thing, I used to run in front of me all winter, but I didn't accompany my old woman during the New Year." Although grandma "accuses" me in this way, it is always on the morning of New Year's Day, when my father led my brother and me to kowtow to her and grandpa to pay New Year's greetings, he took out several ten-dollar bills from his handkerchief and gave them to me and my brother. I feel that I am so old, and I still want the lucky money to make people smile and refuse. Grandma said, "You are the eldest grandson and have many uses. Help uncle sell tofu without paying. This money is a reward for you. You should study hard and find a good job in the future. Don't sweat like your uncle, do a little business to make a living. "
I have been away from the land for more than ten years now, and have worked in the company for many years in finance. Air conditioning is turned on in the office in summer and heating is turned on in winter. There is no pain of crops in the field and no work running around in winter. Send my little daughter to school before six o'clock every morning, have breakfast with my lover in a hurry, and leave home for their respective units to start a busy and ordinary life. Driving on the wide expressway, I can see the speeding cars, and I can never see the bicycle army carrying hot tofu on the narrow asphalt road more than 30 years ago. Now, I'm used to tofu in the market. If I eat now and buy now, a few pounds of fat sausage and a handful of green leafy vegetables will be a good meal. The crisp and pleasant sound of the bangzi was replaced by an electronic scale that quoted the price of components in real time. Cash or WeChat payment can be used, which is convenient and fast. A handsome young man who is good at soliciting business. Tofu sells quickly and well. He never asks for a dime or twenty cents. After work, he didn't forget to play with his mobile phone to browse his circle of friends and send it out to grab the red envelope. His business is fashionable and chic. Several old people in the village who used to make tofu said that young people are great now, and we are behind the times. We are useless when we are old. When you are full, you have to take care of your grandchildren, go shopping and take a walk on the road.
That kind of white, tender, nutritious and warm-hearted peasant tofu gave me a time to know it when I was a child. Soybean, which has never been greedy for too much nutrition on barren land, has changed from a full body to a "broken bone", completing a kind of affectionate gift from ordinary crops to the earth and human beings, thus accompanying and enriching our three meals a day and nourishing our bodies. It's pure white, just like outside. When people reach middle age, they have nothing to worry about. Although I didn't eat much delicacies, there were chickens, ducks and fish in my daily life. Reasonable diet, balanced nutrition and health care have become more concerned topics for middle-aged and elderly friends. I am glad that I know that I have experienced something about tofu and have a different feeling for it. Never tire of eating, with kindness and awe. Just like the job and responsibility I am engaged in now, I can't help but think of what my grandfather said to me before his death: "Be honest and do things wholeheartedly."
Innocent peasant bean curd and never enough peasant rice are my lifelong nostalgia. Although I have left this land for many years, my heart is still rooted here. With this love for tofu, I feel that life is very happy.
A little dragon boat festival