Xi Shi Bean Curd Recipe

Xi Shi Bean Curd

This bean curd dish doesn't have an exceptional look, which may degrade the beauty of Xi Shi, the most distinguished figure Zhu Ji has produced. It is not even disgraceful to call it simply a "thick soup", because this is what it is. A large bowl of the soup would come to the dinner table as the last di
sh, and in a split second the whole room is in a blinding vapor, while redolent of a tempting scent in which you can smell of every ingredient: mushrooms, winter bamboo shoots, shrimps, meat, eggs, and of course bean curd. You would feel, although it's like nothing more than any homemade dishes, it's pe
culiarly refreshing and nice. Then, if you pay a close look at it as the vapor dispersed, you may again consider it ordinary: it's really a "thick soup"!

In the whitish-yellow liquid interspersed with spots of yellow and brown, threadlike egg entangles small blocks of bean curd. The soup glitters under the pendent light, luring you to spoon out amouthful  but you won't, because it looks so perfect. Finally, warned by the elders that it will lose its flavor after cooled down, you tried a spoonful, and then you can't help trying another. It always outshines the other dishes in the Spring Festival feast. And on the first few days of the lunar new year when we visit other relatives in the countryside, they will all present us a large bowl of Xi Shi Bea
n Curd in every formal meal. They all put it in the center of the table. This has been an etiquette in greeting guests.

The bean curd is not the least complicated to make as is any other domestic dish. But it needs careful treatment. "First," my uncle, the chef of the feast for many years, would tell of the process of cooking during the feast, and everyone would automatically pay attention, "chop the mushrooms, bamboo shoots, shrimps and meat into tiny pieces, and dice the bean curd. Then put them in some soup-stock with the bean curd, braise them in slow fire. Scramble the eggs. Pour the eggs into the pan when it's already boiling. Braise for another while, and finally put the seasonings. If you drop some sauce into it, the outcome will look nicer." He would pause for a while, and then emphasizes: "the preparation before the cooking is important - it decides whether the dish is successful or not. You have to chop all the ingredients into very small pieces." Of course I don't know what's the magic there. I would only
 enjoy it, one spoonful after another, until the bowl is emptied.

Mother can't cook that either - the careful and time-consuming treatment runs counter to her principle of "efficiency". Among all the families in the large clan, ours may be the most westernized in lifestyle. The pursuit of efficiency deprives us of the willingness to savor the pleasure tradition brings along. As time goes by, the clan breaks up and the families drift apart. But tradition still lies there, waiting for the coming generations to appreciate it, as does the Xi Shi Bean Curd. But it doesn't wait for those who have drifted apart to come back. So, when will my last taste of Xi Shi Bean Curd be?