Remember the peanut candy poured on the banana leaf?

The city often experiences sudden rain showers this time of year. Seeing the rain falling outside, I suddenly remember summer nights from my childhood. Listening to the rain pattering in the banana grove, my siblings and I would always beg Mom to give us peanut candy.

Mom looked at our bright, expectant eyes and nodded slightly. That was all we needed; we quickly ran to scoop up peanuts and peel them. Mom opened the cupboard and took out the brown sugar she'd saved for when we suddenly craved sweets or desserts.

In my hometown, you can see peanut and corn fields everywhere. When I was little, I often went with my parents to plant peanuts. My father would go ahead to dig holes, and my mother and I would follow behind, drop two peanut seeds into the soil, and then cover them up.

My joy began the moment I saw tiny bean sprouts emerging from the ground. I cycled to school, passing by the fields, peacefully gazing at the lush green bean plants dotted with yellow flowers covering the soil of my homeland.

I'll never forget the joyful sparkle in my parents' eyes as they bent down to pull up the bushes of peanuts laden with fruit. My mother, with her hands stained with dirt, carefully handled the plump, round peanuts. My siblings and I helped her pull them up, occasionally plucking a few unripe ones, washing them in the stream, and happily chewing them. Then we eagerly awaited the evening when my mother would take down the pot of freshly cooked peanuts from the stove.

The summer sun dried the beans spread out in the yard until they were perfectly crisp. My mother packed them into bags and took them to be pressed for oil, while the remaining dried beans were stored in a corner of the house to be eaten as a snack.

The peanut plant is truly amazing; nothing goes to waste from root to tip. The oil cakes (the residue left after pressing the peanuts) are kept in the corner of the kitchen. Every evening, when my mother cooks pig feed, she breaks off a few pieces and adds them to the bubbling pot. Then she exclaims how quickly the pigs in the sty have grown!

Anyone from the countryside has probably felt a pang of nostalgia for the aroma of their mother's roasted peanuts on the stove. The moment she took them off the heat, they'd reach out and grab a few to pop into their mouths, not waiting for the moment those crispy, fragrant peanuts were sprinkled on a steaming bowl of Quang noodles.

If Quang noodles sprinkled with peanuts stir up excitement, then peanut candy on rainy nights stirs it up even more. The moment Mom caramelized the sugar on the stove, the moment the peanuts were roasted and their thin skins were blown away, our mouths were already watering!

The sugar used to make the candy had to be authentic, homemade brown sugar. Of course, Mom was the one who caramelized the sugar because we didn't know how to control the heat or when the sugar was ready. Once the sugar melted and boiled on the stove, Mom quickly added roasted peanuts, then poured it over golden-brown grilled rice crackers.

My family rarely had rice paper wrappers on hand because our candy cravings would come on unexpectedly, and Mom would send us out to the garden to cut a banana stem. I would choose the biggest banana tree in the garden, peel off the outer layers, and cut the tender white inner layer.

The peanut candy poured onto banana leaves was definitely the most delicious treat in the world for us back then. After the candy cooled, Mom would cut it with a knife and give it to each of us. But sometimes none of us would wait for it to cool completely. The chewy, slightly warm piece of candy would already be in our mouths.

The initial excitement faded, and I cherished the candy wrapped in the banana leaf, savoring its crispness and fragrance, eating it sparingly, afraid it would all be gone. With just a gentle touch, the candy detached from the banana leaf as easily as peeling a pastry.

That sweetness stayed with me until I became an exile. So when it suddenly rained outside, when I suddenly tasted the bitterness of life, that sweetness was rekindled to comfort and soothe me.

My friend back home proudly showed off the peanut candy she had just made for the kids. Peanut candy now comes in many variations, sprinkled with dried coconut, roasted sesame seeds, and thinly sliced ​​lime peel for a fragrant aroma… Seeing the village children eagerly holding pieces of peanut candy in their hands brought back memories of my own childhood.

On rainy evenings when the rain pattered outside in the banana grove, I would beg my mother, "Let's have some peanut candy, Mom!"

Source: https://baodanang.vn/nho-keo-dau-do-บน-be-chuoi-3297339.html