The most beloved flour stir-fry

(GLO) - Late in the afternoon, a friend from Phu Cat (Gia Lai province) invited me to his house, and we made a dish of freshly stirred wheat flour together. For him, this is a simple, beloved dish from his hometown, closely associated with the childhood of many generations of people in the Nẫu region.

I remember when we first met, visiting your home and seeing a few clumps of lush green cassava in your small garden, I happily chatted with you and offered advice on "what crops to plant and what livestock to raise" that would be suitable for the basalt soil of the suburban area of ​​Pleiku. You smiled brightly and said, "Yes, I'll consider what else to plant. But, no matter what, I can't leave out those cassava plants. They're not just crops; they're connected to my childhood, they're memories."

Stir-fried wheat flour is a beloved dish of the people of the Nẫu region. Photo: TUỆ NGUYÊN

Since then, I've known about the best-tasting cassava flour, made by my friend's own hands. While busily stirring the flour, she would reminisce about old times and the simple, rustic treats of our hometown. She told me that back in the day, almost every household in the countryside had a couple of rows of cassava plants in their garden. After harvesting the cassava tubers, they would peel and wash them. Next came the process of grinding each tuber on a sieve into a fine powder, then straining it through a thick cloth. After being left overnight, the powder would settle into a smooth, pure white, pristine layer. That was the best, cleanest flour, reserved for making su se cakes, cassava rice paper... and also for preparing our familiar breakfast dishes.

In times of hardship, stir-fried cassava flour was not just a breakfast food for the hardworking villagers. It was a lifesaver during storms and floods, when the fields were submerged in water and markets were far away. A family with a few cassava roots and some fermented rice was considered to have enough to eat. Looking at the clear, thick batter in the pan evoked images of the countryside, of those days of wind, salt, and fading dew.

Then her voice softened slightly, filled with nostalgia: “I still vividly remember those early mornings, Mom bustling around the stove, the wood fire blazing, thin wisps of smoke enveloping her. It was Mom stirring the flour batter for the whole family's breakfast. When I was little, every morning I'd wake up to find Mom's batter neatly covered in a food cover. Sometimes, just looking at it made me feel disgusted, and I'd pick a fight with Mom. But now, I often wish I could be little again, to hear Mom calling me to wake up for breakfast, to smell the lingering wood smoke in the wind, and to crave a bite of that soft, cool, and chewy batter.”

Having stirred flour together many times, I've realized that there's no single recipe for perfectly stirred flour. The more you do it, the more experience you'll gain. Too little water and the dough will be hard and chewy. Too much water and the dough will be too runny, causing chopsticks to fall and not stick. Stirring the dough over heat requires a steady hand; a slight delay will make the dough tough. When eating, use chopsticks: one to press down on a piece of dough, the other to wrap around it in long, translucent loops, just like wrapping cotton candy. Then dip that cool, chewy piece of dough into a bowl of fish sauce mixed with garlic, chili, a drop of lemon juice, a little MSG, and a pinch of sugar for a balanced flavor.

Actually, every time I pick up a plate of freshly stirred flour and look at it, I'm reminded of the tapioca flour dish from Hue . And most of all, I can't stop thinking about the cassava flour soup of my homeland in the low-lying rice paddies of Northern Vietnam. It also starts with a fine white flour made from various tubers that have been closely associated with farmers for generations, working under the sun and rain, then processed in the unique ways of each region to create characteristic dishes imbued with cultural significance, evoking fond memories for so many people far from home.

What started as something unfamiliar gradually became familiar to me, and I grew to love this distinctive dish of the Nẫu region, often taking the time to learn more about it. I know that nowadays, the stir-fried wheat flour dish has also been modified. Some people add meat or fish to make the dish more substantial. Some restaurants, especially in the Võ region, have introduced and sold stir-fried wheat flour with grilled snakehead fish (or catfish) marinated in fish sauce. Whether enjoyed with fish or just the wheat flour alone, this dish is favored by many diners, including myself. As for my friend, this stir-fried wheat flour dish is always associated with cherished and unforgettable memories.

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/than-thuong-bot-mi-nhut-khuay-post563530.html