As December arrives, the rustling north wind carries a chill that seeps into the soul, stretching across the deserted streets. Back home, my mother is probably busy tending to her vegetable garden, preparing for the upcoming Lunar New Year. Then, as noon approaches and evening falls, she hurries back into the kitchen to prepare meals for the family. The dinner table during these days would undoubtedly include the simple yet beloved dish of boiled red bean sprouts with shrimp paste. Just thinking about it brings back a flood of memories.

Young red bean sprouts – a rustic dish

Every year in my hometown, around this time of year, from one end of the village to the other, every garden is a lush green expanse of vegetables and fruits. In years with favorable weather, people are constantly busy. From young children to the elderly, everyone is assigned different tasks depending on their age and health. Everyone is bustling about, preparing their produce to sell at the early morning market.

Back when I was at home, I often followed my parents to the garden to help pull up cabbage, pick various vegetables, and arrange them neatly in rows so my mother could divide them into bundles. Our garden had quite a variety of vegetables: cabbage, lettuce, chrysanthemum greens, coriander, mint, zucchini, cucumber, amaranth, sweet potato leaves, water spinach, jute mallow... to supply the market as well as meet our family's needs during Tet (Vietnamese New Year). Besides the typical vegetables mentioned above, my father always set aside a small plot of land to grow a few rows of red beans to satisfy our family's culinary preferences. Because the weather was out of season at this time, the red beans were mainly grown for their shoots and young pods, rather than for their seeds. Thanks to the watering rains and the skillful care of experienced gardeners, after only a month, the bean plants stretched their stems and shoots, quickly entering their "teenage" stage.

Recalling those days, after helping my family prepare enough vegetables to take to the market, I would happily follow my mother to the red bean patch with a basket to pick the tender shoots and young leaves to boil and eat with rice. My mother carefully showed me how to quickly pick the bean shoots without damaging the plants. The intertwined tendrils stretched out and swayed in the wind. Occasionally, in many places, the bean plants were so lush that their shoots would fall flat on the ground, tangling and making my steps falter... just for fear of tripping and falling.

The young red bean sprouts are picked, washed clean, and drained. The leaves are gently crushed to soften them slightly so that when boiled, the beans will be tender and have a sweet, nutty flavor. When the water boils, a little salt is added to the pot, then the bean sprouts are submerged. They are stirred once or twice with chopsticks to ensure even greening, then removed and placed in a colander. Once cooled, they are rolled into small, palm-sized balls, squeezed to remove excess water, then loosened and arranged on a plate. Sometimes, out of love for her husband and children, wanting to change things up for the family, she stir-fries the boiled bean sprouts with crispy pork fat to create unforgettable, delicious meals.

Once the bean sprouts were properly boiled, my mother would take the jar of shrimp paste stored in a wooden pot to make a dipping sauce. She would put a little oil in a pan, sauté garlic and chili peppers, then add some water, along with sugar and MSG. Then she would add the shrimp paste and stir until dissolved… Once the shrimp paste sauce boiled, she would chop some coriander leaves and add them, then turn off the heat, finishing the process. She would ladle the sauce into a bowl, add a few chopped chili peppers, and squeeze in some lemon juice for a refreshing taste.

The sweet and savory flavor of tender bean sprouts, the pungent aroma of wild betel leaves, the spiciness of chili peppers, and the salty taste of shrimp paste... all made my stomach rumble with hunger, and I eagerly awaited the rice to cook.

The simple dish of red bean sprouts from my hometown, even the humble bowl of fish sauce, was so unpretentious, yet my sisters and I would scramble to finish it all. Just one taste and you'll remember this rich, rustic dish forever. Suddenly, I'm craving that simple, countryside flavor!

Text and photos: THAO YEN VAN

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/du-lich/danh-lam-thang-canh/nho-dot-dau-do-luoc-cham-ruoc-66727.html