Tasty Life Out of Stinky Tofu

By Ming Qiancha

At a night market next to Pozi Food Street in Changsha City,every tourist,including me,is tempted to visit Brother Yan’s Stinky Tofu stall.

The intricate mixture of umami aroma,deep-fried smell,and the odor from the stinky tofu are hotly pursued by tourists in every direction.Besides,Brother Yan is keen and quick in his cooking.Be it mild or extra hot,salty or umami,he can skillfully flavor six or seven bowls of stinky tofu at the same time without messing up even one bowl,while counting out loud the amount of money customers pay him,and the change he gives back to them.

While holding a cell phone between his ear and shoulder,he is busy calling out to a frequent customer over the phone,“How can you be so lousy to waste my stinky tofu? You know clearly that three feet away from the frying wok,the temper and flavor of the deep-fried tofu will be lost.Listen up,you lazy bone! I don’t have time for your nonsense.Can’t you just move your behind and take a few steps downstairs? A few steps will do!”

After hanging up in a huff,Brother Yan talks to himself,“Let’s see which one is more attractive,your Mahjong table or my stinky tofu?”

The proud look on his face is so amusing.But of course,Brother Yan has a reason for such a demeanor,because his stinky tofu is always in short supply.

When Brother Yan was working in Guangdong at the age of 23,he lost his right hand in an accident,and all that remained was a bare wrist.Speaking of the past,Brother Yan made no attempt to conceal his weakness.

“For a month or so,I barely had anything to eat or drink,and whenever I thought about the difficulties of the future,I couldn’t hold back my tears.At these moments,my mother cried together with me.She cried so hard that she started losing her eyesight and couldn’t even see the eye of a needle clearly.As soon as she told me about her blurred eyesight,I stopped crying.I had already been ungrateful for being a burden to my family.If I didn’t pull myself together,my mom could end up depressed,or even cry herself blind.If she lost her job as an embroider,how could our family earn a living? It was back in 2016,and the internet was far less developed than it is today.The road ahead was too narrow for someone with only one hand like me.Luckily,my master was willing to share with me his secret recipe of making fermented brine.”

在長沙坡子街旁邊的小巷夜市里，像我這樣的游客很難不被巖哥的臭豆腐攤位吸引。

讓人聞風而至的鮮香與焦香、臭香雜陳，難以形容；加上巖哥手腳麻利，一面唱收唱付，一面給六七碗臭豆腐同時調味，要猛辣還是微辣，咸鮮還是本鮮，沒有一碗會搞錯。

他歪頭夾著手機，對老熟客高喊：“哪有你這般糟踐臭豆腐的崽？明知離鍋三尺遠，臭豆腐那爆香爆臭的脾氣就歇了噻，你就那么懶？我告訴你，我沒空理睬你，你就下樓走幾步，走幾步……不就來了嘛。”氣呼呼掛上電話，巖哥還自言自語：“我倒要看看，你的牌桌斗不斗得過我的臭豆腐鍋。”

那模樣，既傲嬌，又自滿，讓人忍俊不禁。是的，巖哥有理由這般驕傲，他的臭豆腐供不應求。

23 歲那年，巖哥在廣東打工，出事故失去了右手掌，只剩下光禿禿的右手腕。說起往事，他倒也毫不掩飾自己的軟弱：

“就有一個月的功夫，不怎么吃喝，想起未來的艱難，就哭一場。我娘陪哭，哭到看不清繡針上的針鼻兒。她一說視力模糊，我就收了眼淚。出這么大事故，帶累爹娘本已不孝，如果我從此活得很喪，害得我娘也抑郁恍惚，哭壞眼睛不能再做繡娘，我家里靠啥過日子？那是16年前的事，那會兒網絡還沒有如今發達，少了一只手，路好窄。好在我師傅愿意教我發酵臭鹵水的竅門……”

有的吃客調皮，追問發酵鹵水的奧秘，巖哥笑道：“我家的秘方，好多年前我就寫下來當定情信物。如今，收在我老婆的百寶箱里呢，你去跟她要。”

When some nosy customer asked him about the trick of his brine,Brother Yan smiled,“I wrote down the secret recipe on a piece of paper many years ago,and gave it to my wife as a token of love.Now the note is locked in her treasure box.Why don’t you go and ask her?”

Upon hearing it,Sister Yan said with a smile,“That’s true.Back then,he had just learned to write with his left hand,and was so proud of himself.So,he wrote down the modified brine recipe and gave it to me.”

“The brine formula is a symbol of my love,which is fuller than the moon on a Mid-autumn day.If I pissed her off someday,and she took away the formula to run her own stinky tofu shop,I couldn’t even hold a candle to her.So,I have to be nice to her.That is my only way out,” Brother Yan said.

At that time,Sister Yan twisted off the cap of a tea bottle,and urged him to take a sip.Brother Yan took the chance to tease himself,“Look! Sister Yan can help me twist open bottles,or wring out wet towels.Before meeting her,I could only wear slip-ons.Now you see what I’m wearing...”

Brother Yan reached out one foot,proudly showing his laced high-top sneaker to the onlookers.Seeing that his caring wife looked after him and even tied shoelaces for him every day,we could easily feel the close bond and deep affection between the couple.

While appreciating the stinky tofu that was soft inside and crispy outside,a customer asked Sister Yan,“Did your parents support your relationship with Brother Yan back in those days?”

“Of course not.But I choose him for his honesty in doing business.He only uses best quality fermented soybeans,winter bamboo shoots,and mushrooms.Although my parents were displeased with me going out with him,I quoted a saying in Changsha dialect,‘You won’t know if the chili is hot or not until you try it yourself,’ and suggested that they pretend to be strangers and buy two skewers of stinky tofu from his stall,so they can see how he treats other people and make a reasonable decision.”

After Sister Yan’s parents finished their stinky tofu,they immediately went to book an upstairs seat facing Brother Yan’s stall at the tea house across the street,and kept an eye on his every movement.

From sunset to moonrise,they saw that Brother Yan was neither humble nor overbearing to his customers,and that he deftly used one hand to control the oil temperature,blend tofu dressings,and lift cartons of marinated bean curd.Besides,he repeatedly advised every customer,“Take care not to burn yourself.Bite off a tiny corner and blow on the inside first.” Although being handicapped,the professional skill that he mastered had made his face glow with pride and confidence the whole time.

When Sister Yan’s parents went back home that day,they immediately sent out two bottles of Maotai Liquor that had been preserved for a decade to Brother Yan.“According to the folklore,adding 150 grams of Maotai liquor into a vat of brine will get rid of all the harmful bacteria and give it a wonderful fragrance.You can have a try,” Sister Yan’s father said.

(FromRead,Enjoy,Relish,February 2021.Translation:Zhu Yaguang)

旁邊的巖嫂笑著回應：“這是真的。那會兒他剛學會左手寫字，得意得不行，把他琢磨改進的鹵水配方交給了我。”

巖哥一本正經地說：“鹵水配方，比十五的月亮還能代表我的心。哪天我惹惱了巖嫂，她拿著我的方子另起爐灶，我肯定是競爭不過她的。所以，必須待巖嫂好，那是巖哥的生路。”

說話間，巖嫂擰開茶瓶蓋兒，催巖哥潤潤喉嚨，巖哥不忘調侃自己：“你們看，巖哥擰不開的瓶蓋，擰不干的毛巾，全是巖嫂代勞。認識巖嫂之前，我穿鞋只能穿一腳蹬的。你們看，現在的我……”

巖哥伸出腳，顯擺他那雙高幫系帶球鞋——巖嫂天天為他系鞋帶，那份細致的親情，讓我們看到這對尋常夫妻緊密、醇厚的愛。

品嘗著外焦里嫩的臭豆腐，有個同來的伙伴問巖嫂：“你當年與巖哥談戀愛，家里人不反對？”

巖嫂說：“當然反對。可我就看中巖哥做生意實誠，他選的豆豉好，冬筍好，香菇好。父母不樂意我跟他談戀愛，我就說，長沙人講究’辣子鮮不鮮，親口嘗一嘗’，你們就喬裝路人，去吃兩串臭豆腐，看他待人接物，觀察后再下結論。”

巖嫂的父母吃完臭豆腐，立刻在街對面的茶樓上訂了個臨街座位，觀察巖哥擺攤。

從日落西山，到月上柳梢，他們看到巖哥待客不卑不亢，單手操控油溫、調配作料，扛下一筐筐的黑鹵豆腐。還看到他對每位顧客百般叮囑：“小心燙，咬開一小角，要吹氣。”那種一技傍身的自信，讓身有殘疾的他整個面孔坦坦蕩蕩、熠熠生輝。

老兩口回去，沒有二話，托人給巖哥帶了家中珍藏了10年的兩瓶茅臺酒。巖嫂的父親說：“民間傳說，鹵水要去盡雜菌，生發奇香，一陶缸鹵水中要加三兩茅臺酒。你可以試試。”

（摘自《品讀》2021年第2 期）