繁花似錦，熱鬧非凡

Blooming Life and Animated Family——Guozhengzong

對(duì)于我家鄉(xiāng)的美食，我常常懷有一種至深的憂傷：我會(huì)不會(huì)在某一天發(fā)現(xiàn)，我將永遠(yuǎn)都吃不到了？畢竟那些味道無(wú)與倫比的食物，制作程序如此繁復(fù)，制作方式如此傳統(tǒng)，原材料如此地原生態(tài)。

其中之一就是裹蒸粽。大約你一定是吃過(guò)粽子的，并且也一定贊嘆過(guò)某一種粽子真好吃。而我的執(zhí)念是：沒(méi)有吃過(guò)裹蒸粽的，便不算是吃過(guò)粽子。或者吃過(guò)裹蒸粽以后，別的便不算是粽子了。中國(guó)網(wǎng)絡(luò)還興起過(guò)一陣“粽子甜咸黨之爭(zhēng)”——到底粽子應(yīng)該是咸的還是甜的，南北方人民各執(zhí)一詞，吵得熱鬧非凡。我的立場(chǎng)就簡(jiǎn)單得多：裹蒸粽以外的粽子，都是異端。

還記得我在外省求學(xué)的時(shí)候，端午節(jié)發(fā)現(xiàn)學(xué)校食堂有粽子賣，果斷買了，迫不及待拆開(kāi)就吃，咬下第一口后那種失望到近乎憤怒的心情：“這為什么叫粽子？為什么要把粽子做成這個(gè)樣子？”但看一下同學(xué)們，他們表示：“這就是粽子啊。”我便很希望所有人都有機(jī)會(huì)吃到我家鄉(xiāng)的裹蒸粽。

我的家鄉(xiāng)在廣東肇慶，珠江三角洲西隅，一個(gè)群山連綿綠水環(huán)繞的城市。在我的印象中，其處處是宋代的城墻，青石板的古街巷，斑駁殘舊的宗祠，漫山花叢里唱山歌，總是慢吞吞的，總是不洋氣。大約也只有這樣的城市，才會(huì)集一家大小之熱鬧與期待，從臘月忙碌到年關(guān)，只為出一鍋清香四溢的粽子吧。

肇慶的密林與水邊愛(ài)長(zhǎng)柊葉，清香嫩綠、寬大柔韌、經(jīng)冬不凋，且清熱解毒、活血化瘀。南粵濕熱，聰明的南粵人發(fā)現(xiàn)，以柊葉藏物，經(jīng)久不腐。這顯然也是用來(lái)包裹粽子的不二佳選了。一入臘月，各家各戶的婦人便會(huì)陸陸續(xù)續(xù)去往熟悉的地方采摘柊葉與水草。柊葉采回后，放置在家里陰涼的地方，會(huì)覺(jué)滿目清香，雖在冬日，卻是春意盎然。待到年二十六的樣子，一大早起來(lái)，便把柊葉與水草放在水里煮至滾燙，如此可把它們的柔韌性發(fā)揮到最大，而且如此一煮，生葉子的“臭青”盡除，唯留清香，顏色則由碧綠變成暖暖的深綠。此時(shí)再用冷水沿著柊葉的脈絡(luò)細(xì)細(xì)地清洗，將塵土去盡。此時(shí)，全家上下已然投入了“包粽子”的氛圍里：有的要負(fù)責(zé)把糯米淘洗干凈，這個(gè)務(wù)必是要淘得越干凈越好，因?yàn)轸兆映鰻t以后是可以吃一個(gè)月的，唯有很干凈的柊葉與糯米，方能做如此長(zhǎng)久的保存。淘好以后拌以些許鹽，放置在笊籬里把水瀝掉。有的（比如我）要負(fù)責(zé)把綠豆泡軟，再放到石磨上去皮，那可真是個(gè)體力活呢！為大家那口軟糯綿滑的綠豆蓉，我真是勞苦功高啊！有的則負(fù)責(zé)把五花肉切成三指見(jiàn)方，再用鹽與胡椒粉或五香粉拌勻，此事在我家，非廚藝高手媽媽不可為，因?yàn)檎{(diào)料之是否恰到好處，直接能決定你家的粽子是否是極品。

此時(shí)大約已經(jīng)到了正午，也可算得萬(wàn)事俱備了，便全家圍著食材坐下，要開(kāi)始包粽子了：三張柊葉鋪底，一勺糯米鋪平，再一勺綠豆，三五塊五花肉，再一勺綠豆，一勺糯米，然后蓋上一張柊葉封頂，沿邊角把食材包裹起來(lái)，再以水草纏繞綁扎固定，一個(gè)十厘米見(jiàn)方的粽子便算包好。整道工序下來(lái)，耗時(shí)甚多，且齊心協(xié)力做一次粽子，總得夠一個(gè)春節(jié)用的，所以待到全部包好，差不多就是傍晚了。一家團(tuán)圓，說(shuō)說(shuō)笑笑，閑適與天倫，還有對(duì)出爐粽子的想象，時(shí)間倒是過(guò)得飛快。途中還要差出一個(gè)人去準(zhǔn)備簡(jiǎn)單的午飯和晚飯。尤為重要的，在即將完工的時(shí)候，我們便會(huì)用一個(gè)極大的鐵鍋裝上水，生起猛火，以滾燙的水等待著包好的粽子。

夜幕降臨，鍋里的水已經(jīng)沸騰，便把粽子一個(gè)一個(gè)放進(jìn)鍋里。此時(shí)便是最為美妙的圍爐守候的時(shí)光。若在平日，小孩子們?cè)缭绫惚悔s去睡覺(jué)，萬(wàn)籟俱寂。唯有兩個(gè)日子，孩子們是可以名正言順地熬夜的，一個(gè)是年三十守歲，一個(gè)便是煮粽子的夜里。雖然未至半夜，我們必將東倒西歪地睡去，但那真是歡騰的時(shí)光啊。我們都搬個(gè)小凳子坐在廚房里，柴火在爐灶里，噼里啪啦地響著，熊熊不熄，紅色的火光映在每一個(gè)人的臉上，跳躍著的，彌漫著的溫暖。我們當(dāng)然還要往火里放上幾個(gè)紅薯烤著，烤好了，搶著吃，好生熱鬧。我的爸爸則喜歡泡一壺茉莉花茶，放在灶基上，因著爐火的燃燒，那茶總是熱的。鍋里的粽子其實(shí)早就開(kāi)始飄出香味，縈繞在廚房里，烤紅薯的香味更是霸道得近乎侵掠，茉莉花茶的香在此間簡(jiǎn)直有超凡脫俗的意味。后來(lái)，鍋里的粽子到底怎么樣了呢？不知道啊，因?yàn)槲覀儾恢朗裁磿r(shí)候都已經(jīng)進(jìn)入夢(mèng)鄉(xiāng)里了，四下靜謐，仿佛什么都沒(méi)有發(fā)生過(guò)。待到晨曦微露，聽(tīng)得媽媽喊：“來(lái)吃早餐咯！剛起鍋的粽子哦！”便趕緊起來(lái)，重新圍到鍋爐旁。真的呀，粽子已經(jīng)煮好了！經(jīng)了一夜的猛火，粽子真的水靈靈地出爐了！在柊葉水草嚴(yán)實(shí)的包裹下，粽子的形狀沒(méi)有絲毫變化，我們不知道里面的食材到底經(jīng)歷了什么，但打開(kāi)來(lái)，那爆炸開(kāi)來(lái)的香氣真能把清晨的胃都叫醒。柊葉給糯米染上一層淡淡的綠色，自然也染上了淡淡的清香，綠豆已經(jīng)沒(méi)有了形狀，交融在糯米里，五花肉的油脂滲透在糯米與綠豆里，再沾染至柊葉，而柊葉的清香又把它的肥膩消解到幾乎沒(méi)有，只留給它潤(rùn)滑與軟糯。綠豆吸收了五花肉的汁油，粘合在糯米里，尚有胡椒粉散發(fā)在整個(gè)粽子里，似乎沒(méi)有，卻無(wú)處不在的辛香，伴著騰騰熱氣，真是清益撲鼻，入口松化，爽滑甘香。一家人圍著，共享我們經(jīng)了一天一夜努力與期待做出來(lái)的粽子，天底下哪里有比得過(guò)的美味呢。

這么齊心協(xié)力做出來(lái)的美食自然不能獨(dú)享。到得年初二，要開(kāi)始相互拜年了，各自便拎著自家的粽子與人分享：“粽子誰(shuí)家都有，我家的，您試試！”雖說(shuō)基本的食材與做法大致一樣，但每一家總有其無(wú)價(jià)的秘方以行走江湖。或是加了某種食材？某種調(diào)料？某個(gè)步驟另有婉曲？不能說(shuō)！秘方！總之每一家的，確實(shí)總是有點(diǎn)不一樣的啊。若說(shuō)天下第一么，在我，當(dāng)然是我家里出品的啊。

時(shí)光流逝，慢慢地，我心目中的山城肇慶其實(shí)早就變成國(guó)際化的都市了。柴火變成了不合時(shí)宜的東西，我們?cè)谏痰昀镫S時(shí)都可以買到去了皮的綠豆，那么大的鍋也不適合安裝在大城市里的千家萬(wàn)戶，柊葉與水草在山水里倒似乎越長(zhǎng)越茂盛了，但年輕一輩的人卻總是找不到時(shí)間去采摘。而且，在飯店里買一個(gè)現(xiàn)成的粽子是一件多么容易的事呢，雖然它達(dá)不到那種極致的味道，但終歸你只是想吃一個(gè)粽子而已啊。

可是我好想念那些我和家人一起手作的粽子啊！想念那些勞作與等待，想念那些沸騰與芳香。由裹蒸粽，我總是毫無(wú)道理卻順理成章地想到兩個(gè)詞：繁花似錦，熱鬧非凡。

When thinking about gas-tronomic delights in myhometown， I am alwayscontrarily weighed downwith a deep sorrow as I could not helpbut wonder what if I could not getany bite of them one day. After all，they are made out of local ingredientsand cooked through a complex proc-ess yet in simple ways.

One of these delicacies isGuozhengzong， also known as stickyrice dumplings （made of glutinousrice stufFed with different fillings andwrapped in bamboo leaves）. I bet youmust have eaten Zongzi and marveledat the good flavor of its certainkind， while that does not countunless you have tasted Guozheng-zong. There was even a hot debateon the Internet between Zongzieaters in north and south China.They argued on whether Zongzishould be salty or sweet， whilemy standpoint is much clear-Guozhengzong is one of a kind.

I remember when I was study-ing in another province， I foundthe canteen on out campus wasselling Zongzi. I bought onewithout hesitation and ate it inhaste. After the first bite， I wascompletely disappointed and evenbecame exasperated， \"How couldthis thing be called Zongzi？ Whydo they make Zongzi in this way？\"However， my classmates said， \"It isZongzi indeed.\" I really hope thateveryone can come to my home-town to taste Guozhengzong.

I come from Zhaoqing， a citysurrounded by mountains and wa-ters in Guangdong province， theeastern corner of Pearl River Delta.Roaming in Zhaoqing， you couldalways find city walls from theSong Dynasty （960-1279）， ancientalleys lined with cyan slab stones，ruined ancestral halls， and peo-ple singing folk songs in flowers.Zhaoqing is a city of ease whilelacking the touches of modernlife， but it is such city that wouldbother to bustle from the begin-ning of the twelfth lunar month tothe very end of the lunar year onlyto make a pot of fresh Guozheng-zong amid expectations of the oldand the young in the family. Zhaoqing is also home toPhrynium which usually growsin jungle and beside water. Theirwide and pliable leaves in soft lightgreen have natural fragrance andare able to stand through winter.Besides， these leaves could relieveinternal heat and promote bloodcirculation in human body. Foodwrapped in Phrynium leaves couldbe kept though south Guangdongis hot and humid. Clever localsalready found that and used theseleaves to make Zongzi. Uponthe arrival of the twelfth lunarmonth， women of all householdswould go to pick Phryniumleaves and aquatic plants intheir familiar places. Afterthe harvest， they would placePhrynium leaves in a cool placein their house where it feels likespring with the leaves' delicatesmell wafting through the roomalthough it was in winter. Astime marched to the 26th dayin the twelfth lunar month，people in my hometown wouldget up early in the morning， putPhrynium leaves and aquaticplants in the water， and boilthem to maximize their pliabil-ity. After the boiling， the stinkof the leaves would be removed，leaving only the fragrance， andthe leaves' color will turn fromverdant to dark green. Afterthen， Phrynium leaves would berinsed in cold water to clear dusthidden along their veins. At thistime， the whole family had alreadygot busy preparing for makingZongzi. Some washed glutinousrice. Cleaner rice makes betterZongzi that can be eaten withina month. Only with clean leavesand glutinous rice can Zongzi bepreserved for such a long time.After the washing， someone wouldput salt in rice and place them in aspider to drain water; others likeme would soak mung beans inwater， and then put them on thestone mill to remove peel， whichwas so energy-consuming！ Foreveryone to taste soft mung beans，I had really taken great efforts thatdeserve praises. Still others wouldcut streaky pork into tiny pieces，and then mix it with salt and pep-per or five-spice powder. My mom，a cooking master， took on this job asthe seasoning can directly determinewhether the Zongzi in your home arethe top-class ones.

When it was about noon， we hadeverything we need to make Zongzi.The whole family would sit aroundingredients and started to pack Zongzi.We placed three Phrynium leaves inhand， then put on the following in-gredients one by one-one spoonfulof glutinous rice， another spoonfulof mung beans， three or five piecesof streaky pork， and then anotherspoonful of mung beans， a spoonfulof glutinous rice， and then coveredwith a Phrynium leaf. We wrapped upingredients along the edges ofleaves，and then tied up with aquatic plants.Finally， a ten-square-centimeter Zongziwas finished. Though the process wastime-consuming， Zongzi made withthe efforts of the whole family wereenough for us to eat during the SpringFestival. It was almost evening whenwe finished. Time flies when all fam-ily members sat together， talked andlaughed while waiting for Zongzi comeout. Someone in my family wouldprepare simple lunch and dinner whenwe were waiting. What was especiallyimportant is that when we were aboutto complete， we would use a huge ironpot filled with water， make a fire， andwait to throw the wrapped Zongzi inboiling water.

As night fell， water in the pot hadalready been boiled， and we wouldput Zongzi into the pot one by one.It was the best time of a day when wewaited around the pot. In ordinarydays， children are usually chased awayto sleep， leaving everything in silence.For only two days， children can stay upall night right and proper. One is theLunar New Year's Eve， and the otheris the night of cooking Zongzi. It wasreally a happy time even though wecould never make it till midnight with-out falling asleep. We all sat on a smallchair in the kitchen watching firewoodburning under the stove and hearingits crackling sound. Everyone's facewas lit up by red flames with warmthfilling the kitchen. For sure， we wouldput a few sweet potatoes in the cook-ing range， making a boisterous scene toscramble when they were roasted. Mydad liked to make a cup ofjasmine teaand put it on the stove base. The teawas always hot as it was warmed by thestove. At the same time， the kitchenwas heavy with the smell of freshlycooked Zongzi， The mix of strikingaroma of roasted sweet potatoes andotherwo rldly fragrance of j asmine teaalso spread in the kitchen. What hap-pened to Zongzi in the pot？ I don'tknow， because we had already gone tosleep. Stillness enveloped the kitchenas if nothing had happened. Untilthe morning dawn， I heard my momshout， \"Come for breakfast！ Just pickZongzi from the pot！\" Then we hurriedto the kitchen to find cooked Zongzihad already been waiting for us after anight of boiling！ Under the tight wrap-ping of Phrynium leaves， the shapeof Zongzi had not changed at all. Themoment we opened Zongzi， our morn-ing appetite was woken up by its sheeraroma. The glutinous rice was lightlyscented and dyed with faint greenby Phrynium leaves. Shapeless mungbeans had already blended in glutinousrice. The fat of streaky pork drippedthrough glutinous rice and mungbeans to Phrynium leaves thatgradually absorbed the greasy smelltill there was only smoothness andsoftness. The mung beans soakedin juice ofstreaky pork stuck tothe steaming glutinous rice thatgave off the smell of spice pepper.Nothing could be compared withthese refreshing， soft and deliciousZongzi as our family spent one dayand one night to make them.

The food made with such con-certed efforts cannot be enjoyedalone. On the second day of theLunar New Year， we would beginto visit each other. Every familywould share their Zongzi with oth-ers， \"We all make Zongzi， but youmust try this one from my family！\"Although basic ingredients andcooking methods were roughlythe same， each family had itsown Zongzi recipe such as add-ing some kind of ingredients orseasoning. Was there somethingspecial about a certain step？ Wecannot tell！ Secret recipe！ Inshort， Zongzi of every familyvaried. If there should be a No.1in the world， for me， of course，it would be those made in myhome.

Time passes when we don'teven notice. Now， Zhaoqing， themountain city in my memoryhas already become an inter-national city. People don't usefirewood anymore， and peeledmung beans can be bought atany time in the store. Large potswe used in the past are not suita-ble for urban households. ThoughPhrynium leaves and aquaticplants seem to grow luxuriant inmountains and beside waters， theyounger generation always fails tospare time to pick them. Moreo-ver， how easy it is to buy a ready-made Zongzi in a restaurant.Although it does not have theultimate taste， you just want toeat a Zongzi after all.

But I really miss the ZongziI made with my family！ I missthe time we worked together andwaited for Zongzi to be cooked，I miss the boiling water and thefragrance back then. Two phrasesnaturally come to my mind whenI think of Guozhengzong in myhometown-flowering life andanimated family.