Beautiful memories of childhood

On a weekend morning, my daughter and I went up to the rooftop to tidy up and water our little family garden. While weeding, my daughter exclaimed, "Dad! There's a lucky clover in our garden!" I followed her gaze and discovered a patch of fresh green clover. It was the familiar sorrel plant from my childhood in the countryside.

Báo Đà Nẵng•12/04/2026

The sorrel plant, also known as ground sorrel, was once just a wild vegetable growing in hidden corners of gardens, along ditches, or in dry fields. The garden around my house used to have large guava trees with wide canopies, and beneath them grew countless tiny, lush green sorrel vines. Though it grew silently, the sorrel plant possessed incredible resilience, often flourishing and quietly offering its sour flavor to home-cooked soups and even serving as a medicinal remedy.

The common sorrel plant has green leaves with three heart-shaped lobes. Because of its distinctive shape, the village children often call it "three-leaf clover." After a while, the sorrel vines suddenly burst into cool, refreshing flowers. The five-petaled flowers look tiny and pretty, like buttons. Under the cool guava tree's canopy, the flowers sprout and slowly bear fruit. When the sorrel fruits emerge, we children grab a handful of salt, quickly pick a few plump fruits, dip them in salt, and gently nibble on them. The sorrel fruit has a more intense sour taste than the leaves, yet eating many of them is addictive. I am also one of those who are captivated by the taste of sorrel fruit, always waiting to pick the young or just-ripe fruits, dipping them in salt and chili, and exclaiming in delight at the refreshing sourness.

In the early summer days, when studying became less demanding, I often went fishing in the pond with my friends from the village. Whenever I caught a snakehead fish, I excitedly brought it home for my mother to cook a sour soup with ground tamarind leaves. In our simple kitchen, my mother skillfully cleaned the fish, then meticulously marinated it with onions, chili peppers, and other spices… After that, she added the fish, some mint, okra, pineapple, and tomatoes, before finally adding the ground tamarind leaves. My mother always said that the amount of leaves added to the soup didn't need to be much; just a few leaves were enough to create a pleasantly tangy flavor.

When the sour fish soup was just cooked, it was ladled into a large bowl, the broth clear and fragrant. We children would inhale the aroma, clearly seeing the smooth, white pieces of snakehead fish hidden among the fresh green leaves of the tamarind tree, with the subtle scent of scallions and cilantro. On hot summer afternoons, just a bowl of white rice to sip with a little of the sweet and sour broth of the snakehead fish, blended with the sourness of the tamarind, helped to alleviate some of the summer heat.

Interestingly, sour soup made with ground tamarind doesn't have the harsh sourness of tamarind or star fruit, but instead offers a delicate sensation on the tongue combined with the dish's distinctive aftertaste. It's a rustic yet deeply comforting flavor that evokes nostalgia in anyone who tries it.

But what impressed me most was the leisurely time spent playing shop with the neighborhood kids. The items for sale were a few wildflowers, some thinly sliced banana blossoms, and a few leaves of the sorrel plant. The children meticulously searched the grass for pretty sorrel plants with tiny yellow flowers, washed them clean, and arranged them as their shop, exchanging them for leaf coins. Sometimes they didn't even bother washing them; they'd just find a sorrel plant and eat it with a few grains of white salt. It was such a simple thing, yet it filled me with overflowing joy and laughter.

Not only is it an essential spice for traditional dishes, but the sorrel plant is also a simple, natural remedy that can cure many ailments with unexpected effectiveness. When I was little, my face was often covered in boils. My mother would go to the garden to find sorrel plants, wash them thoroughly, and then meticulously crush them for me to drink the juice. She would use the remaining pulp to apply to the swollen areas, helping the wounds heal faster and making my skin feel more comfortable. This is because sorrel leaves have a cooling effect, making them very effective in treating skin diseases such as ulcers, boils, and burns.

Time quietly slipped by. My siblings and I grew up and left our hometown. After many years living in the city, I gradually forgot about the sour tamarind soup. One weekend, I unexpectedly came across the familiar green color in the garden, and I was filled with nostalgia for the sweet and comforting sour tamarind soup of yesteryear.

Source: https://baodanang.vn/hoai-niem-dep-cua-tuoi-tho-3332130.html