Anyone who lived in the countryside or had a poor childhood will remember those emotionally charged evening meals.
In the old days, the countryside had no electricity, not even oil lamps were lit early. At dusk, when the sun had set and the courtyard was dark, the evening meal was finally served. It was just an old mat spread on the ground. If a family had only two or three people, they wouldn't spread the mat on the ground but would sit on the porch in front of the house, taking advantage of the lamp hanging from the rafters, which illuminated both inside and outside the house.
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| Photo: Internet. |
In the old days, a typical evening meal in the countryside consisted only of a pot of potatoes mixed with other vegetables. Savory dishes included a plate of salted fried shrimp, a bowl of fish stewed in soy sauce or with wild plums, and a plate of sweet potato leaves and water spinach dipped in crab paste or fermented soybean paste. During clam season, there would be a bowl of clam soup with tomatoes, or a few small fish caught and cooked with sour fruits like starfruit and plantain.
The evening meal marked the end of a hard day's work in the fields and on the hillsides. The meal was mainly prepared by grandmothers, mothers, or sisters who hurried into the dilapidated kitchen to light the fire. From the kitchen, thick, grayish smoke from dry straw billowed out, filling the yard and house. Many meals were cooked hastily, with several stoves burning simultaneously, creating a dense cloud of smoke. I still remember as a child I used to crawl into the kitchen corner to cook with dry straw or pine needles; it wasn't a romantic, poetic description of a glowing hearth. The person cooking with straw had to sit at the stove for hours, constantly pulling the straw into bundles and using a rake to push it into the fire. This dark, smoky corner of the kitchen was always gloomy, even darker after dark. The light didn't come from an oil lamp, but from the firelight. Because of the smoke, everyone's eyes would sting and burn.
In the old days, grandmothers, mothers, and aunts cooked rice in earthenware pots with great care because a slight mishap would break it. They used moderate heat, and when the rice was almost cooked, they would roll it to a corner of the kitchen and place it in the straw ash to finish cooking. Cooking soup, boiling vegetables, or braising fish also had to be done quickly; by the time they brought it out, it was already dark. When opening the lid of the rice pot, they had to skillfully use chopsticks to skim off the ash clinging to the rice so that the dogs and cats could eat it. In many poor families, the daughter-in-law would eat from her own bowl, giving the white rice and soft sweet potato to her father, mother, or grandfather… Even in the dark, the evening meal was always lively. Before the meal, the children would take turns inviting their grandparents, parents, and older siblings. The younger ones would invite the older ones. The meal itself wasn't elaborate, but everything from the fields, the village, and the neighbors was discussed animatedly.
In the old days, having everyone seated around the table was important; it was rare for people to eat before or after others. Therefore, the evening meal was always a symbol of family reunion in thatched-roof homes. The meal relieved the hardships and joys of life. Previously, when I went to the South, I saw many families giving their children bowls of rice to eat, regardless of who ate first or last. Perhaps it was due to habit and custom. Nowadays, however, many families, no matter how hard they try, rarely have a communal evening meal. Therefore, many city dwellers, upon returning to their hometowns, often prefer to spread mats in the yard to eat. Holding a bowl of rice, gazing at the banana trees and bamboo groves swaying in the breeze, amidst the lingering evening smoke, people sometimes feel a pang of sadness remembering loved ones who once sat there, now far away.
The evening meal in the old countryside courtyard is an unforgettable experience for those who have lived through it, and they will remember it forever.
DUONG MY ANH
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