When the last piece of pork belly left over from eating pig rice in the refrigerator a year ago, and the bamboo shoots were cooked, I knew that the year was over, standing in font of the wood stove, looking at the wood stove bearing the cordial memories of our 70s generation, the memories of the warm and hard years came to my mind, and the wood stove deep in the bone marrow and soul can never erase the unforgettable days.
The wood stove is generally composed of three POTS of different sizes, the smallest pot mother is generally used for cooking, the middle pot is generally used for cooking porridge, rice or bone soup, and the inside pot is used for cooking pig food.
When I was a child, I loved to add firewood to the firewood stove and taste the food during the New Year, the clumsy wood stove was placed in the corner of the kitchen, and my mother seemed to stay at the wood stove all year round, putting up plates of steaming hot food, and then we rushed up like hungry ghosts, and after the storm, when my mother served the table, only the leftovers were left. And the mother in the stove side of the busy figure has gradually drifted away, only occasionally appear in the dream.
Fire is a technical work, a wooden bench, a tongs, a fire shovel, a fan, is the standard in my kitchen, the kindling match lit, stuffed into the hearth, black smoke curling up from the hearth, sometimes it is not point, face helpless, singing "poor stem (homophony, Lichuan a kindling match name) good kindling Mo, burning don't ask me oh," by the black smoke tears flowing, The fan to the stove fan a few times, bang, the fire jumped up, the kitchen fire warm the body, red my little face, from the pot floating out of the meat fragrance, filled the whole kitchen, gentle years.
The firewood for the stove, in addition to Nakata's relatives to carry sticks to firewood, after school I often went to the Industrial and Commercial Bank opposite my home to collect firewood, at that time there was always someone inside the bank to bring long pieces of wood to put in the yard, discarded bark scattered on the ground, my sisters and I went to pick up bark to burn fire, mother in order to reward our sisters, Doing small work will always bring back a few steamed buns or a few churros to reward us, happy I, even in the winter also feel warm body and mind.
After the firewood stove burns the open fire, the charcoal fire in the stove gradually more and more, then the fire shovel appeared, when I was a child, the importance of charcoal fire is self-evident, the mother planted taro, sweet potato, buried in the charcoal fire or ashes, waiting for a moment, with tppers to take out, sweet potato or taro is soft inside the skin, the fragrance is qinling, after eating, the black hand to the face of a small partner, Chasing frolics between belly laughter, in that era of lack of materials, simple life, but happiness arises spontaneously.
The New Year's Eve dinner is the highlight of the wood stove in the home every year, the father who wears an apron when the chef, the mother who washes the dishes, the sister who burns the fire, and the me who waits to taste the dishes on the stove side, is the scene of the New Year's Eve in my kitchen for decades, the wood stove makes the New Year's Eve dinner, which is the warmest taste of the New Year. And the mother always in the New Year before and after the beginning of spring to do "cold glutinous rice cake" to us to eat, the mother will pick up the hill next to the vegetable field to "cold glutinous rice cake", wash into the stone trough, and ground rice mix and knead into "cold glutinous rice cake", with the stove to make that is called a fragrant, or fried or steamed, even cooked glutinous rice, is still delicious.
I am dismissive of the New Year's Eve dinner to the hotel restaurant, that is to let the New Year flavor of the extravaganza, in my eyes, the New Year flavor is to eat firewood on the stove, and the family in Lichuan "October" rice wine between the broadcast of the CCTV Spring Festival Gala, in the close and open the money door of the firecrackers, the New Year began...