Crispy candied cassava

Candied cassava with a powdered sugar coating. Photo: Nhu Huy

After the storm passed, some trees in the garden were leaning, others were uprooted. The three-month-old cassava plants, which were in season and bearing tubers, were flattened to the ground. Three-month-old cassava produces tubers that are not large, but are fragrant and delicious, without any bitterness.

In the past, every household in my village planted a lot of this cassava variety. The cassava fields and hillsides were covered in a vibrant green that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Back then, times were tough, and cassava was always a staple in poor families' meals. There was boiled cassava, steamed cassava, cassava mixed with rice, cassava mixed with sweet potatoes, and jackfruit seeds. Occasionally, when the harvest was over and work was less demanding, my mother would have time to prepare some sweet treats like cassava cakes and cassava jam to please her children.

To make cassava cake, the cassava must first be grated. After peeling and soaking the cassava tubers in a basin of water until they turn white, my mother would firmly press and rub them against a hard steel plate with small holes. The tiny cassava crumbs would gradually flow down into a basin below, piling up into a fine, fluffy mass.

Using a clean cloth, my mother would wrap handfuls of cassava pulp in water and squeeze out the excess liquid, letting the finest pulp flow away. If enough was filtered out, she would knead this pulp, then cut it into strands and cook it with a little pork fat and perilla leaves to make a hot, fragrant cassava porridge. The remaining pulp was the main ingredient for sweet steamed cassava cakes.

Children not only love sweets but also enjoy the crunchy texture of crunchy treats. Knowing this, Mom went to great lengths to make cassava jam on several occasions. However, this isn't an "instant" treat that can be eaten right away.

My mother had to wait for sunny days, slice the cassava into round pieces, boil them until cooked, then take them out. Next, she arranged the cassava on a large bamboo tray and took it out to the yard to dry thoroughly. To make the cassava crispier, she would roast it with sea sand over a low wood fire. Finally, she would coat it with sugar. The aroma filled the kitchen, a sweet and fragrant scent.

Now, the garden is barren after the storm, and the sky above remains a heavy, leaden gray, offering no promise of sunshine. However, with improved processing techniques, my mother and I can still utilize the uprooted cassava plants to make cassava jam, a treat to enjoy on cold, rainy days.

Instead of sun-drying or roasting in sand, we now readily pour entire cans of oil into the pan to deep-fry the cassava slices, making them crispy and golden brown. Because the cassava coating process is complicated, my mother always insists on cooking it herself.

After the granulated sugar is melted, cold water is added to create a thick, golden mixture. My mother quickly pours in the crispy fried cassava slices and stirs them for a few minutes. The cassava slices, initially light yellow, turn a darker, slightly brownish-yellow after absorbing the sugar. As the sugar dries, the cassava slices in the pan rustle against each other, releasing a fragrant aroma.

Every time, even before being served, the candied cassava my mother makes, with its powdered sugar coating, is enough to whet my appetite.

Whether in the countryside or the city, few people make cassava jam these days because everyone tends to eat less sugar and starch. For me, on a rainy and chilly day, sitting with my mother by the early morning tea pot on the porch, gazing at the garden and the sky, and savoring a few slices of crispy cassava jam, evokes so many memories of a warm childhood that time has swept away.

There you'll find cassava jam, a sweet and luxurious treat from the countryside garden.

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/gion-tan-mut-san-3143677.html