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.”

在长沙坡子街旁边的小巷夜市里，像我这样的游客很难不被岩哥的臭豆腐摊位吸引。

让人闻风而至的鲜香与焦香、臭香杂陈，难以形容；加上岩哥手脚麻利，一面唱收唱付，一面给六七碗臭豆腐同时调味，要猛辣还是微辣，咸鲜还是本鲜，没有一碗会搞错。

他歪头夹着手机，对老熟客高喊：“哪有你这般糟践臭豆腐的崽？明知离锅三尺远，臭豆腐那爆香爆臭的脾气就歇了噻，你就那么懒？我告诉你，我没空理睬你，你就下楼走几步，走几步……不就来了嘛。”气呼呼挂上电话，岩哥还自言自语：“我倒要看看，你的牌桌斗不斗得过我的臭豆腐锅。”

那模样，既傲娇，又自满，让人忍俊不禁。是的，岩哥有理由这般骄傲，他的臭豆腐供不应求。

23 岁那年，岩哥在广东打工，出事故失去了右手掌，只剩下光秃秃的右手腕。说起往事，他倒也毫不掩饰自己的软弱：

“就有一个月的功夫，不怎么吃喝，想起未来的艰难，就哭一场。我娘陪哭，哭到看不清绣针上的针鼻儿。她一说视力模糊，我就收了眼泪。出这么大事故，带累爹娘本已不孝，如果我从此活得很丧，害得我娘也抑郁恍惚，哭坏眼睛不能再做绣娘，我家里靠啥过日子？那是16年前的事，那会儿网络还没有如今发达，少了一只手，路好窄。好在我师傅愿意教我发酵臭卤水的窍门……”

有的吃客调皮，追问发酵卤水的奥秘，岩哥笑道：“我家的秘方，好多年前我就写下来当定情信物。如今，收在我老婆的百宝箱里呢，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)

旁边的岩嫂笑着回应：“这是真的。那会儿他刚学会左手写字，得意得不行，把他琢磨改进的卤水配方交给了我。”

岩哥一本正经地说：“卤水配方，比十五的月亮还能代表我的心。哪天我惹恼了岩嫂，她拿着我的方子另起炉灶，我肯定是竞争不过她的。所以，必须待岩嫂好，那是岩哥的生路。”

说话间，岩嫂拧开茶瓶盖儿，催岩哥润润喉咙，岩哥不忘调侃自己：“你们看，岩哥拧不开的瓶盖，拧不干的毛巾，全是岩嫂代劳。认识岩嫂之前，我穿鞋只能穿一脚蹬的。你们看，现在的我……”

岩哥伸出脚，显摆他那双高帮系带球鞋——岩嫂天天为他系鞋带，那份细致的亲情，让我们看到这对寻常夫妻紧密、醇厚的爱。

品尝着外焦里嫩的臭豆腐，有个同来的伙伴问岩嫂：“你当年与岩哥谈恋爱，家里人不反对？”

岩嫂说：“当然反对。可我就看中岩哥做生意实诚，他选的豆豉好，冬笋好，香菇好。父母不乐意我跟他谈恋爱，我就说，长沙人讲究’辣子鲜不鲜，亲口尝一尝’，你们就乔装路人，去吃两串臭豆腐，看他待人接物，观察后再下结论。”

岩嫂的父母吃完臭豆腐，立刻在街对面的茶楼上订了个临街座位，观察岩哥摆摊。

从日落西山，到月上柳梢，他们看到岩哥待客不卑不亢，单手操控油温、调配作料，扛下一筐筐的黑卤豆腐。还看到他对每位顾客百般叮嘱：“小心烫，咬开一小角，要吹气。”那种一技傍身的自信，让身有残疾的他整个面孔坦坦荡荡、熠熠生辉。

老两口回去，没有二话，托人给岩哥带了家中珍藏了10年的两瓶茅台酒。岩嫂的父亲说：“民间传说，卤水要去尽杂菌，生发奇香，一陶缸卤水中要加三两茅台酒。你可以试试。”

（摘自《品读》2021年第2 期）