A bowl of soup from memories

Back then, my aunt's house was on Ham Nghi Street, now Nguyen Thi Minh Khai Street. I don't know if they grew wild or planted, but there were a few fairly large moringa trees. In the warm spring, the moringa trees were lush green. At that time, wages were meager, and during the fresh shrimp season, when the fishermen caught shrimp and brought them to sell near Xom Bong Bridge, my aunt's husband would cycle there to collect them to make shrimp paste. Shrimp paste, pounded with chili and garlic, was delicious with hot rice. But we couldn't eat it all the time. So my aunt switched to making moringa soup with shrimp paste.

My aunt's eldest daughter still remembers picking moringa leaves after school. The tree was tall, and she was short, so she would carry a chair from inside the house and stand on it to pick the leaves. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach the leaves high up. After picking them, she would bring them inside, strip the leaves, discard the stems, and wash them clean. Then, she would put shrimp paste in a pot, bring the water to a boil, add the moringa leaves, let it boil again, season it, and then take it off the stove. It was a refreshing soup for a hot summer afternoon. After eating it, the sweet taste lingered on her tongue. To this day, my sister can't remember how many times she picked moringa leaves to make soup. My aunt, however, happily said it was a "strategic resource" that helped the whole family get through those difficult times.

As the years passed, life gradually improved. After nights at sea, the boats returned with abundant catches of fish and shrimp. Fresh seafood was readily available at Dam Market and many other markets in Nha Trang. Some diligent people would drive over Luong Son Pass to Vinh Luong Port to buy fresh shrimp, squid, and fish to cook. Those days of delicious soup are now a distant memory, remaining only in the recollections of my younger siblings.

My aunt, however, was different. Occasionally, when she visited a neighbor's house and saw a moringa tree, she would pick some leaves and bring them home. Then she would go to the market to buy a jar of shrimp paste to cook a bowl of soup. My aunt laughed happily: "Moringa leaves are very nutritious, just like sweet potato leaves, they can cure many ailments, but first and foremost, they cure the disease of empty wallets."

As I ladled the soup into my bowl, I felt a pang of sadness for my aunt's and mother's generations, who had endured the brutal years of war and the hardships of the post-war period, yet still lived and thrived in this beloved land.

CẨM THƯ

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/sang-tac/202601/to-canh-cua-kyuc-81b650e/