Wang Jiaju
Wang Jiaju is a writer, scholar, and bibliophile. He has devoted himself to the study of ancient Chinese culture for many years and has made great efforts in the collation of rural documents and culture. He has written more than 100 works, most of which are cultural essays.
This book is a collection of essays on food, mainly written by writers, scholars, and literati, covering a region from the northeast to Hainan, from Jiangsu and Zhejiang to northwest China. The selected articles in this book are informative, interesting, and readable, which provide a perspective on the richness and diversity of Chinese culture and historical changes of Chinese food.
In ancient times, Zhang Han, while in Luoyang, was moved by the autumn breeze to think of the millet, water-shield, and perch from the Wu region. This longing prompted him to drift away, leaving behind a tale cherished through the ages. Now, the north wind stirs in my thoughts of large chunks of sugar and frozen pears from my hometown, evoking deep nostalgia and endless reminiscence. Yet, with foreign invaders not yet vanquished and lost territories not recovered, I cannot casually order my return home as Zhang Han once did. Times have changed, circumstances are vastly different, and the freedom for an individual to return home must be resolved alongside the freedom of the entire nation. However, as victory nears and lost lands remain un-recovered, a sorrowful yearning for my hometown burdens my heart, impossible to dispel. Thus, I take up my pen to write about the few items I ate in the cold winds and snow of the past to alleviate my melancholy, dubbing them “Cold Dishes in the Northeast.”
(I) Large Chunks of Sugar
Large chunks of sugar are a specialty of the Northeast, crafted in the cold climate to be not only white but also crisp and delicious. The large chunks of sugar made in other provinces do not compare to those from the Northeast. Even in Beiping, a centuries-old capital known for its impeccable snacks, the local large chunks of sugar fall short of the Northeastern quality. Thus, sugar vendors in Beiping call it “Guandong Sugar” as a marketing term to boost sales through its esteemed reputation. Indeed, its quality does not match that of Guandong Sugar, a discrepancy due to the milder climate of Beiping. No matter how skilled the sugar-making or how attractive the appearance is, the taste differs and does not reach the crisp deliciousness of Guandong Sugar. Therefore, the colder the climate, the better this type of sugar tastes.
People in the Northeast typically buy large chunks of sugar to store in baskets, hanging outside the windows under the eaves to avoid heat and prevent softening. When it’s time to eat, they bring it inside and enjoy it immediately — crisp and sweet. It crumbles delightfully with each bite. Some also store the sugar in a cold room (a room without heating, like a storage or mill room), retrieving it to eat just as those hung under the eaves, though such cold storage is mostly found in more affluent households.
There are generally four types of large chunks of sugar. One type is called “tube sugar,” about one inch wide and one foot long, with honeycomb, like pores at both ends; the more pores, the crisper it is. This type of sugar, of the purest quality and requiring a laborious making process (involving many stretches and pulls), is particularly delicious and thus more expensive. Some are coated with roasted sweet barley or with roasted sesame seeds on the outside, known as “sesame sugar,” resembling freckles on a person’s face, dull in appearance but tasty. There are also varieties with red bean paste fillings within the tube sugar, which are not as crisp but still favored by some. Another type is “sugar melon,” which is not as sweet or crisp as tube sugar and is generally cheaper. There is also a spiral type, where sugar strips are wound together like a spiral, which is not as tasty as sugar melon.
As the twelfth lunar month begins, vendors selling large chunks of sugar gradually increase in number. With boxes on their backs, loads on their shoulders, and sleds in tow, they call out everywhere:
“Large chunks of sugar here! Bring your bits of rope and broken rice to exchange for sugar!”
Their voices, as if sweetened by the cold wind, call out invitingly. Children, upon hearing this, immediately become excited. Old men and women from farming households bring out stored bits of rope and broken rice to exchange for sugar, and some bring barley or millet, which is a better trade than broken rice. As for those who buy sugar with money, they are generally the more well-off among rural families and ordinary townspeople. The poorer farmers, apart from exchanging rope and broken rice for sugar, are reluctant to spend money on sugar. Among the general vendors, those with boxes and loads mainly sell for cash; Those with sleds primarily trade goods, and these vendors are more common in rural areas.
According to common customs, the main use of large chunks of sugar is in the Kitchen God festival. On the evening of the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month, people make effigies of dogs and horses from sorghum husks, using sugar melons as offerings, lighting paper, and burning the Kitchen God’s effigy, accompanied by three rounds of firecrackers—this ritual is known as bidding farewell to the Kitchen God. People commonly say, “During the farewell, using sugar melon as an offering is to seal the Kitchen God’s mouth, ensuring he cannot gossip when he ascends to heaven.” I see this as sending off the Kitchen God with sweetness, hoping he speaks well of us above, as reflected in the couplet at his shrine, which includes phrases about speaking good things in heaven, seemingly a form of human reciprocity. There’s a saying, “A mouth fed by others speaks gently.” The Kitchen God is no exception. This is the primary use of large chunks of sugar. After the “Minor New Year” (the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month), the business of selling large chunks of sugar gradually declines.
(II) Candied Hawthorn
Every winter, the streets and alleys echo with the calls of candied hawthorn vendors. Their trembling voices, carried by the north wind, chill the ears of listeners. One can imagine the vendors, frost on their hats, feet in the cold snow, calling out in the cold wind:
“Candied hawthorn ... hawthorn ... candied.”
In reality, these candied hawthorns are not made with rock candy but are sugar-coated by simmering white sugar to just the right consistency. Once cooled, they appear clear and sparkling, resembling rock candy, hence the name “candied hawthorn.”
These are primarily made from hawthorn fruit, chosen simply because their shape resembles a gourd. During preparation, the hawthorns are washed, then slit horizontally to remove the seeds, and skewered on bamboo sticks, available in skewers of five or ten. As each skewer varies in the number of hawthorns and their size, so does the price. There is also a variety made with warm hawthorns, which are particularly bright in color and purer in flavor, thus commanding a higher price. The most common candied hawthorns sold in markets are made with frozen hawthorns, which are of lower quality and sold at a lower price.