A few days ago, my cousin sent a group of ** and told me that it was almost the New Year, and he pulled noodles in his hometown and left some for me. **The rows of noodles pulled up in the rice field outside the old house, like a wisp of white yarn fluttering on the noodle rack, fill the entire rice field, and the momentum is magnificent. Those past events related to somen noodles, and the warm winter sun of my hometown, began to roll in my mind......
My hometown is in a small village in Dabie Mountain in western Anhui. Every year before the year, killing pigs, slaughtering sheep, and pulling noodles are the three things that every family must do to welcome the arrival of the new year. When I was a child, there was no reform and opening up, and materials were extremely scarce, so the simple and strong way to welcome the New Year was particularly precious. And pulling noodles is the epitome of a simple and warm home that is done by all ages.
At that time, my grandfather was very strong and a good worker. As soon as he arrived in the lunar month, his grandfather would take down the noodle rack, the noodle box, and the noodle basin from the attic of his hometown, and carefully and reverently clean them until he thought they were spotless.
Next, always pay attention to the weather forecast, choose the day that you think is suitable, and mix it with mountain spring water, salt, and home-grown flour in a certain proportion according to the temperature and humidity of the day. When starting to make noodles, the hands should be turned vigorously when making noodles, kneaded evenly and thoroughly, in the cold wax moon, grandpa often only wears a single coat, which shows how much energy is consumed. At this time, my brother and I watched with admiration as my grandfather performed vigorously, flipping and kneading like a dance, until my grandfather put the noodles in the basin and covered them with a cloth, and we reluctantly withdrew our gaze. I realized that my stomach was growling, and I hurriedly came to the stove, and my mother was burning something in the pot, it was so fragrant!And every time my mother conjuriously filled the fragrant and delicious food from the pot, blocking my brother and me, and my sister who added firewood behind the stove always showed dissatisfaction and coquettishness. The fire reflected my mother's dark hair and busy figure, and also reflected the red face of my sister, who was two years older than me but had already helped with ...... workAfter filling my stomach, I led my brother to run away with a grimace. In the sand outside the rice field, I repeated the scene of my grandfather and noodles with my younger brother. At this time, it always gets dark very quickly, my mother's screams are always urgent, and my clothes are always dirty and ......
Early the next morning, when the cover was lifted, Grandpa cut the awakened dough into strips, sprinkled with patchy noodles, rolled the strips into round and thinner strips, and then stacked them in a circle into a noodle basin to rise. After touching for about an hour, insert the bamboo noodles and chopsticks into a wood resting box, and wrap the original strips evenly around the two noodles chopsticks in a group of two chopsticks to continue to rise. The noodles sag under gravity. After about two hours, take out the noodles and chopsticks and the original strips from the box, and insert one into the jack at the upper end of the noodles rack in the sun, and the other will hang down naturally. At this time, it is necessary to manually stretch the chopsticks hanging low underneath. Stretching noodles is a very forceful work, not slow, evenly forced, the noodles are pulled as thin as a hair, and finally inserted into the lower end hole of the noodle rack, which is completed. At this time, my brother and I stood by and tried our skills. Often with improper force or too much force, a chopstick on it is torn off, and the original piece is scattered all over the ground. Seeing this, I quickly ran away, and my younger brother was inevitably reprimanded by his grandfather, which made my younger brother cry. Mom ran from the kitchen just in time to grab her brother into her arms. Pick up the original strip on the ground and go to the stove room. I saw my mother knead the original strips into a cake shape, put it on the fire and roast it, and after a while, the yellow and fragrant noodles suddenly stopped my brother's tears, and also blocked his humming and chirping. I'm also clamoring to share half of it. The fragrance of the steamed buns and the embrace of my mother in my hometown often make me reminisce and think about it in my dreams.
In the afternoon, with the joint efforts of the sun and wind, the noodles can be taken off from the hanging noodle rack, placed on the cutting board, cut off, bundled and packaged in equal portions, so that the authentic handmade noodles in your hometown are ready.
At this time, it was getting dark, my mother burned a few delicious side dishes, scalded a pot of old wine, and my father didn't know that he came back from **, and accompanied his grandfather to drink wine. Grandpa was beating his waist after a tired day, while enjoying the wine, reminiscing about the minutiae ......Mom was very timingly serving the freshly cooked noodles. I saw that it was covered with green garlic and yellow egg flowers, the soup was clear and soft, smooth and strong, the family you and I had a bowl, comfortably tasting the noodles, thinking about the family's tomorrow .........
But now, I can no longer eat the pure handmade noodles in my hometown, which include my grandfather's hard work and my mother's wisdom. Mr. Lao She said: Losing one's mother is like a flower in a vase, although it still has color and fragrance, but it has lost its roots. With a grandfather and mother's home, my heart is stable. After all these years, my heart has been floating. Back in my dream, I miss my hometown, my grandfather, my mother and my mother's cooked noodles with green garlic and yellow egg flowers. The clear soup noodles cooked in the clear spring of Dabie Mountain are innocent, and they are much like their (her) life ———
Living a plain life like clear soup and noodles, doing simple farm work, burning simple and warm meals, the family eats slowly, makes a faint, warm cup of tea, and lets the family hold it in the palm of their hands. Let the days pass warmly, and turn the ordinary life into laughter and ......laughter
I want to carefully taste the noodles with the earthy smell of my hometown, suck them one by one, and suck the wisps of noodles in my brain .........