Remember the season of boiled palm fruit?

While strolling around the highland market, my eyes suddenly stopped at a stall selling steaming, fatty, golden-yellow palm oil, each bag tempting me. It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed this rustic dish with its familiar flavor that had been a part of my childhood.

I was trying to snatch a quick nap before having to get up early for a business trip to the highlands when my colleague's call woke me up. Stepping out of the car, the cold hit my face, making me shiver; everything was hazy and indistinct in the mist. Walking around the highland market, my eyes suddenly stopped at a stall selling steaming, plump, golden-yellow palm fruit. The sight of those juicy, golden-brown palm fruits was irresistible. It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed this simple, rustic dish with its familiar flavor that had been a part of my childhood. Picking a palm fruit and putting it in my mouth, a flood of memories rushed back to me…

Braised palm fruit - a dish that evokes many memories.

Born in a poor village, surrounded by rice, corn, potatoes, and cassava, my childhood was filled with memories of my friends herding buffalo and cutting grass. Back then, everyone's family was poor, so we were very fond of eating. In the summer, to satisfy our hunger, we would often pick fruits in the garden to eat, play, and then jump into the river to swim. In the winter, our clothes weren't warm enough, so we just wanted to sit near the fire and nibble on something. I remember that when I was little, the first cold winds of the season were also the time I got to eat tiny, golden-yellow palm fruits... The palm tree was the tree most closely associated with the childhood of the children in my village. Right next to my house was a palm forest. When I was born, the palms were already there, shading the garden, tall and short trees intertwined. I don't know when the palms first appeared, I only heard my grandmother say that no one planted them; they grew naturally and remained green all year round.

For the people in my hometown, the palm tree is an indispensable friend, closely intertwined with their hard work from dawn till dusk, yet always full of human warmth. Palm trees are present in almost every aspect of daily life. My father would cut down the largest palm leaves to roof the house. He would tie together the old leaves and stiff branches to make brooms for sweeping the yard. In my village, every house had a few of these, some kept outside, others propped up inside. My father would also take old palm leaves, flatten them with a stone mortar, dry them in the sun, and then cut them into palm fans for use in the summer. During harvest season, my hometown people would braid palm leaves into raincoats and sew palm leaf hats to protect themselves from rain and sun. The dried palm fronds were used as firewood for cooking.

The palm tree is so familiar, yet for us, boiled palm fruit is still our favorite dish. My mother said that palm trees bloom in spring and bear ripe fruit in winter. Standing under the tree, you can see bunches of palm fruit hanging heavily, each dark green fruit nestled under large, round palm leaves like a shade umbrella. When the palm fruit's skin gradually turns bluish-purple, it's ready to be boiled. But before boiling, my mother usually puts them in a sieve mixed with a few small bamboo sticks, shakes it well to loosen the skin. She brings the water to a simmer, then removes it from the heat, adds the palm fruit, covers it, and boils it for about ten minutes before it's ready to eat.

Watching my mother cook, I thought it was easy, so the next time I tried to do it myself to show that I was grown up and could be as skillful as her. However, I followed the same steps as her, but my stewed palm fruit turned out hard and bitter. Seeing my bewildered and confused expression, my mother laughed and explained: "It's not as simple as just boiling water and putting the palm fruit in to cook. To make a delicious stew, you need to pay attention to the water temperature. Too hot water can make the palm fruit shrivel, hard, and bitter, while water that isn't hot enough won't cook it properly." My mother said that water at about 70-80 degrees Celsius is ideal for stewing palm fruit. To make a delicious batch of stewed palm fruit, you need skill and meticulousness. The stewed palm fruit turns dark brown, and after cooking, a film like grease forms around the pot; when squeezed, the fruit feels soft. When eaten, the palm fruit has a rich, creamy taste from its golden-yellow flesh, a fragrant aroma, and a sweet taste when chewed, mixed with the slightly astringent taste of its thin outer skin. Sometimes, my mother would add fish sauce and sesame salt to eat with the palm fruit, which further enhanced its fragrant and nutty flavor.

In each of our memories, that fruit held a strange allure, making mischievous children sit still for hours, savoring and exclaiming at its unique flavor that only children in the countryside could appreciate... Then, the whirlwind of life swept me along with the daily worries of making a living, and I visited my hometown less often. The palm grove of yesteryear is gone, and occasionally, when my mother had a good batch of palm fruit, she would send it to me along with a few other local gifts. My busy work schedule leaves me with no time to make the braised palm fruit dish of the past. Suddenly, I long for a ticket that would take me back to my sweet childhood.

Source: https://baolaocai.vn/nho-mua-co-om-post890507.html