It's a dish made from thinly sliced, hard coconut stewed with fermented soybean paste. Because when sliced, each piece of coconut has a curved shape, like the curved frame of a boat, it's jokingly called "curved boat."

My mother used a hammer to peel the coconut, extract the water, then scooped out the coconut flesh, chopped it into pieces, and put it in an earthenware pot. She then added soy sauce, a little water, and placed it on the stove, lighting a fire to simmer. When the soy sauce boiled, she skimmed off the foam and reduced the heat, letting it simmer for a while longer so the coconut would absorb the flavor. She added a little sugar, a pinch of MSG, and went to the scallion rack behind the pot, picked a few sprigs of green onions, chopped them finely, added them to the pot, and then removed it from the heat.

According to Ms. Nguyen Thi Be, while drying, it's necessary to stir occasionally to help the soy sauce cook faster.

A steaming pot of rice was served. Add a bowl of wild greens soup with some dried fish, and that was the complete meal. Each piece of coconut, infused with soy sauce, had a rich, creamy, and salty flavor that was very delicious and went well with rice. I've eaten this dish many times, but I still occasionally crave it intensely.

"Curved boat" fermented bean paste was also a popular dish among the people in my region back then.

From after Tet (Lunar New Year), the water in the canals and ponds gradually dries up, fish and fermented fish paste become scarce, and the markets are far away (and even if they were nearby, people in the countryside wouldn't necessarily go to buy food regularly due to limited money). Therefore, soy sauce, fermented fish paste, dried fish, etc., take turns replacing meals.

Sometimes, we'd make braised vegetables with soy sauce, but my mother would change the way she prepared them by adding coconut milk. During the first rainy season, the water in the ditches would start to rise, and the bitter greens and water spinach would grow lush and green. In the slightly deeper puddles, the bitter greens would be submerged up to their heads. We'd gently push away the sediment and alum, gather the vegetables with one hand, and cut them with a knife with the other. In just a moment, the basket would be full of vibrant greens, each stem soft, white, and tender. A plate of boiled water spinach or bitter greens at the beginning of the season, dipped in braised soy sauce with coconut milk, was incredibly delicious. If it was bitter greens, after eating and drinking water, the sweet, refreshing taste of the vegetable would still linger on the tongue.

With the continuous early-season rains, the perch that had been hiding in the shallow ponds during the drought began to emerge in search of their "promised land" to lay their eggs and frolic. We children were overjoyed when we caught them. However, although each fish was laden with eggs, its body was thin, elongated, and covered in slime. The adults said, "What's so delicious about it? It's only good for... stewing in soy sauce." So, soy sauce acquired another use. Don't be fooled, just try it. The fish meat then becomes chewy, savory, and sweetly fragrant—quite top-notch.

At the beginning of the rainy season, fish were scarce, and the river water started to become less salty. On days when I came home from school and the river was full of water, I would go to the garden to dig up some earthworms, set up about a dozen fishing rods, and set them up among the reeds, clumps of water hyacinth, and trumpet vines along the riverbank. Back then, there were quite a lot of coconut gobies in the river. When the tide was low, they would go into their burrows; when the tide was high, they would come out to feed. After a few hours, checking the lines was "hit or miss," sometimes 5-7 fish, sometimes only a few. It was too few, my mother said, "If the whole family ate that much, it would be like 'a tiger eating a tiger's meal'." So sometimes my mother would pick a handful of water spinach or amaranth to cook with them, and sometimes she would stew them in soy sauce to dip the vegetables in. Unlike the chewy texture of early-season perch, the coconut goby's flesh was softer but fragrant and intensely sweet; one bite left an unforgettable impression.

Although soy sauce can be used in many dishes, having soy sauce doesn't automatically guarantee a delicious meal; the quality of the soy sauce also plays a role. Back then, soy sauce was widely available. Every grocery store, big or small, regardless of quantity, almost always stocked soy sauce. And store owners wouldn't hesitate to choose good quality soy sauce to sell, engaging in "healthy competition" to retain their customers.

The other day, I happened to stop by a drink stall in Hamlet 6, Tan Thanh Ward, Ca Mau City. And by chance, I learned that the owner also makes traditional soy sauce. She is Nguyen Thi Be, 69 years old, and has been involved in this craft for over 20 years. She said she inherited the trade from her mother.

Head of Hamlet 6, Ta Van Gop, "advertised": "Ms. Be makes delicious soy sauce, it's clean and chemical-free. Several grocery stores in the area buy her soy sauce. Thanks to this profession, she manages to raise her children and stabilize her family's life."

Curious about the dish that had been a part of my childhood, I arranged to visit sometime to learn how to make it. Mrs. Be happily replied, "You can come anytime."

When I arrived, she had just finished making a batch of soy sauce and was in the process of fermenting it. Outside, another batch, freshly salted and watered, was stored in a large earthenware pot. She was also busy sorting soybeans, preparing to boil them at 3 a.m. for a new batch. Mrs. Be explained that making soy sauce is very hard work, and the profit mainly comes from the labor.

Each week, she produces 3-4 batches of soy sauce (each batch using 30 kg of soybeans, yielding 90 kg of soy sauce); during major festivals and Tet (Lunar New Year), she may produce 5-7 batches.
To make soy sauce, the maker must go through many steps, from boiling the soybeans, fermenting them, then putting them in jars with salt, water, sugar... and then drying them in the sun. According to Mrs. Be, good soy sauce is made when the soybeans are soft and uniform without breaking in half, and the soy sauce does not have a sour taste.

To ensure the soybeans are evenly soft, she has to wake up at 3 a.m. to light the fire, wash the soybeans, and put them in a pot to boil. The process must be done quickly so that by 5 a.m. the beans start boiling. Once boiling, she continues to tend the fire until 3 p.m. (exactly 10 hours) until the beans are soft, then she takes them out to ferment. The fermentation process takes two days and nights. The drying process also takes 2-3 days, depending on the weather. The soybeans are ready when they float to the surface, have a deep yellow color, and a strong aroma.

She said that making soy sauce seems easy but is actually difficult. It's easy because the steps are simple, anyone can do it. But it's difficult to produce a delicious batch of soy sauce. This is all thanks to experience.

She recounted that in the past, in Ward 4, Ca Mau City, on Lam Thanh Mau Street (near the Ca Mau canal), there was a village that made soy sauce. Her mother also came from that village. However, now, due to the high price of raw materials (soybeans, sugar, salt, etc.), soy sauce makers don't make much profit, so they've all switched to other professions. She, however, perseveres because she loves this craft, mainly earning a living through her labor. She sells each kilogram of soy sauce for 10,000 dong, earning 5-6 million dong in profit each month. During major festivals and Tet (Lunar New Year), when she makes more, her income increases.

"Nowadays, people eat a lot of fermented bean paste, so I'm not worried about the demand. I just hope I have the health to do this job regularly, both to preserve my mother's craft and to provide for my family," she confided.

In the past, soy sauce was often associated with times of hardship and scarcity, with people living in poverty and frugality. But now, soy sauce is found in almost every household, from ordinary people to wealthy families, in both urban and rural areas, in simple eateries to luxurious banquets in restaurants. Just imagine, hundreds of dishes incorporate soy sauce. Even just the dish of fish braised in soy sauce, there are dozens of types of fish used, from river fish to sea fish, each dish rich in flavor and impressive.

There are countless meat dishes that cannot be prepared without soy sauce as a seasoning. And then there are many dipping sauces where soy sauce is the main ingredient. Not to mention, there are also many vegetarian dishes made with this ingredient that can be used in both vegetarian and non-vegetarian cuisine.
Soy sauce is a "premium" dish, playing a rather special role in Vietnamese cuisine .

Huyen Anh

Source: https://baocamau.vn/tuong-mon-an-dam-hon-que-a638.html