Preserved Vegetables of Mianyang

Preserved Vegetables of Mianyang

　　The most famous preserved vegetables of Mianyang—salted vegetables, fermented black beans, and pickled chili peppers—though humble fare in ordinary households, were once tributes to the Qing imperial court. Known as the “Three Distinguished Preserves,” they enjoyed widespread fame across the land and beyond the Great Wall.

　　 Salted vegetables are usually made by pickling leaves and stems of mustard greens, pickled mustard stems, and radish greens, among others, with mustard greens yielding the best results. When pickling, salt is reduced as needed, and the finished product is tender yellow in color, fragrant, tangy, and crisp. Because they are salt-preserved, people commonly refer to them as salted vegetables.

　　 Stir-fried salted vegetables with meat are exquisitely delicious; using salted vegetables as a base layer when making Dongpo pork not only enhances both meat and vegetables but also prevents the fatty pork from being greasy, making it a prized dish at banquets.

　　 Fermented black beans are made by steaming or boiling soybeans (or stir-frying and shelling broad beans if used), fermenting them, then soaking and sun-drying them with salt. During preparation, the right amount of seasonings such as ginger, chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, sesame seeds, and sesame oil are added, turning them into not only an excellent condiment but also a rare delicacy in their own right. A taste lingers long after the meal.

　　 Dishes like stir-fried fermented black beans with tiger-skin chili peppers or stir-fried fermented black beans with twice-cooked pork are considered top-tier delicacies.

　　 Mianyang’s fermented black beans are especially esteemed when produced in Zhengchang Town, where the craftsmanship has reached perfection.

　　 Pickled chili peppers are made by chopping fresh chili peppers, mixing them with an appropriate amount of rice flour and salt, pressing them tightly in a jar, and sealing them for about half a month. When eaten, they are pan-fried in oil until golden and crisp, spicy, and aromatic—the more you chew, the more flavor emerges. Adding bits of meat or fish during preparation makes the taste even richer.

　　 Salted vegetables, fermented black beans, and pickled chili peppers—though made from common, inexpensive ingredients and simple to prepare and store, they are hardly delicacies, yet how did they make their way into the imperial palace to win the favor of emperors and consorts? This story begins with Emperor Qianlong’s tour of southern China.

　　 Once, while traveling incognito through Mianyang to admire its lakes and waters, Emperor Qianlong grew hungry at noon as he reached a place with no villages or shops in sight. Unable to go on, he was rescued by a peasant woman carrying a bamboo basket that gave off the aroma of food. She was hurrying along, glancing toward the distance, presumably delivering lunch to her husband working in the fields. Desperate with hunger, Qianlong asked for directions and begged for food. The kind-hearted woman respectfully and generously shared her meal.

　　 Qianlong took a bite of the wheat rice but couldn’t swallow it, spitting it out with a grunt. As the Son of Heaven, when had he ever eaten such coarse fare? He couldn’t bring himself to eat it, yet his hunger gnawed at him. Trying a bite of the salted vegetables, he found them tasty, then went on to try the fermented black beans and the pickled chili peppers. That single taste was transformative—he was suddenly ravenous. The tangy, spicy, fragrant trio of preserves caused his mouth to water profusely, and even the hard-to-swallow wheat grains slid down effortlessly. He ate heartily, alternating between bites of rice and vegetables, chatting with the woman and learning she was surnamed Yang, given name Xiuying, and her husband was Xie Wenjing, a tenant farmer. Before long, he had eaten half the basket. He set down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, thanked her, and sat by the road to rest. Yang hurried back to her husband in the fields, carrying the remaining food.

　　 Meanwhile, Xie Wenjing, still plowing the field, grew increasingly hungry as noon passed with no sign of lunch. He stopped work and scanned the horizon from under his straw hat, spotting what looked like his wife sitting by the roadside with a man, who was eating. Shouting got no response, so he grew anxious, dropped his tools, folded his arms, and waited by the field, staring at the woman.

　　 After bidding Qianlong farewell, Yang rushed to her husband and served him the leftover food. Seeing that half was gone, he grew angry but, too hungry to argue, wolfed it all down. Then, tossing his bowl to the ground, he grumbled, “A man is iron, food is steel—you can’t fight your wife on an empty stomach.” He raised a hand to strike her, demanding, “Why was half the food missing? Who was that man?” Only after Yang patiently explained did he stop. Watching this from afar, Qianlong was puzzled: “Such a good woman, and her husband beats her? I must get to the bottom of this.” So he stayed put.

　　 Yang, though wronged, wasn’t angry. She cleaned up and walked home in tears. Spotting her approach, Qianlong went to meet her and asked kindly, “Madam, why did your husband hit you? Could it be because we ate your food?”

　　 Yang was not only kind and gentle but also clever. Realizing the stranger had witnessed the incident and that she couldn’t hide it, she cleverly replied with a smile, “He was upset that I didn’t treat our guest properly.” Puzzled, Qianlong asked, “How was treating a guest improperly?” She answered, “He said that if it was a guest, we should have invited them home for a proper meal. Why serve them so hastily by the road? That’s disrespectful. Also, if it’s a guest, they should be fed till full—why leave half the food? That’s stingy, which is why he got angry.”

　　 Hearing this, Qianlong felt deep admiration, gratitude, sympathy, and pity welling up. In this remote village, far from the refined capital, there were still such kind-hearted people—a testament to the honest and warm-hearted nature of Mianyang folk. He resolved to reward her. Putting on airs of an official, he told Yang, “After the autumn harvest, return these rented fields to the landlord, and I’ll give you some land to farm.” Yang declined, not wanting to repay kindness with land. Thinking she found his gift too small, Qianlong then promised to recommend her husband for a fourth-rank official title (equivalent to a prefect) and her as the lady in charge of the official seal. Doubting such fortune, Yang was handed Qianlong’s golden dragon-embroidered belt as proof, with instructions to visit the provincial office on the 15th of August to process the documents. He then took his leave.

　　 After enjoying his southern tour, Qianlong returned to Beijing in autumn. Remembering the meal and especially Mianyang’s three preserves, he issued an edict summoning the couple to the capital and instructed the imperial envoy to have Yang bring the salted vegetables, fermented black beans, and pickled chili peppers.

　　 Upon receiving the imperial decree, the couple wasted no time, traveling day and night with the three preserves to Beijing. They bowed before the emperor, presented the tribute, and showed the golden dragon belt. When Yang looked up and recognized the emperor as the beggar she once fed, she was stunned with shock and joy, repeatedly kowtowing and thanking him for his grace.

　　 Qianlong ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare the preserved foods and distribute them among the three empresses, six consorts, and numerous palace ladies as a token of favor.

　　 The consorts, mostly northerners, along with other palace ladies—many from the northeast or northwest—had diverse palates. The long-standing preference in Chinese cuisine of “salty in the south, sour in the north, sweet in the east, and spicy in the west” was reflected even in the palace. These three preserves, with their distinct tangy, salty, and spicy flavors, were immensely popular among the palace women, earning unanimous praise.

　　 Seeing everyone praise the dishes, Qianlong asked, “My dear ministers, which of these three preserves is the best? Which is second? Which is third?” This stumped the group. Though they agreed each had its merits, no one had ranked them—and with different tastes, how could they decide? They hesitated to answer.

　　 Seeing their uncertainty, Qianlong turned to Empress Fuca, his favorite consort. “Empress, what do you think?”

　　 A northerner who loved acidic flavors, Empress Fuca pondered briefly and replied, “Your Majesty, I believe the salted vegetables rank first, the fermented black beans second, and the pickled chili peppers third.”

　　 With three palaces, six courtyards, and seventy-two concubines, the empress was the supreme ruler of the imperial harem. The other consorts not only had to carefully gauge the emperor’s intentions when speaking, but also had to be mindful of the empress’s moods in their actions—how could they dare to oppose her? Hearing the empress speak thus, even those with differing opinions did not dare to say more. Besides, it wasn’t such a major issue; better to echo her words and earn some goodwill: “Your Majesty speaks wisely, so do we.”

　　 Emperor Qianlong laughed heartily: “The empress is right, so do I. These salted vegetables, fermented black beans, and pickled chili peppers—by ranking—could be called the top scholar, second-place scholar, and third-place scholar. They are truly the three champions among preserved vegetables, the ‘Three Dignitaries’ without having gone through the imperial examinations.”

　　 Upon hearing this, everyone applauded in unison: “Indeed, Your Majesty speaks the best.”

　　 And so, the “Three Dignitaries of Mianyang Preserved Vegetables”—salted vegetables, fermented black beans, and pickled chili peppers—quickly spread both inside and outside the imperial court, reaching all levels of the government. Many nobles, civil and military officials sent people to Mianyang to purchase and enjoy them. For a time, the roads from the capital to Mianyang were packed with carts and horses, and the riverways crowded with sails. The trade in preserved vegetables boomed enormously, bringing considerable benefits to the common people.