Picking ground skin

Ground skin

　　Ground skin is actually a type of edible moss known as "dìpícài", also called "dìyī" (ground ear), "dìmù'ěr" (ground wood ear), or locally referred to as "diǎnjiǎnpí" in Mianyang area, and sometimes as "dìtáipí" or "dìgū". It is a seasonal symbiotic organism formed by fungi and algae. It somewhat resembles wood ear mushrooms, appearing dark green in color. The difference is that wood ears grow symmetrically on decaying wood, are large and thick-fleshed, whereas ground skin is also flake-like, rootless, but grows in specific environments. In late spring to early summer, right after a rainfall, in my hometown—those embankment grasslands that see little human or livestock traffic yet are always full of life—a cluster or tuft of these pitch-black things would sprout. And they only appear right after the rain clears; you have to pick them quickly. If the sun shines just a bit, the ground skin mostly dries up, curls into a grayish-black state, and becomes unpickable. Ground skin is a fleeting visitor of the rainy season—they seem to suddenly arrive from all directions, yet vanish after traversing just a brief journey of the world. Fresh ground skin is soft, thin, and elastic like wood ears, but much more tender.

　　Ground skin grows in calcium-rich soil. As a child, I often picked it while herding cattle on rainy days. After the rain, when sunlight filtered through the clouds and sporadic raindrops still fell, I’d often go bareheaded under the drizzle, herding the cattle while picking ground skin. The ground skin looked like shiny black sprites scattered across the grass on the embankments, with grasshoppers constantly jumping and orioles flying about after the rain. The adults warned us: ground skin that has been struck by thunder should not be eaten, as it can cause poisoning.

　　 Ground skin, wet and clinging to the grass and ground after the rain, is scattered here and there, making it tedious to pick. If you apply too much pressure, you’ll break it and won’t be able to pick it up. It often comes with adhering dead grass leaves, moss, mud, sand, and even earthworm droppings. After bringing it home, you first soak it in water to soften and expand it, then carefully pick through it strand by strand by hand, blowing with your mouth and flicking with your fingers. Sometimes it’s really not easy to pick even a small capful of ground skin to bring home, and cleaning it is even harder. No matter how many times you wash it, the creases and folds of the ground skin never seem to get completely clean, and it can still feel gritty when eaten.

　　 Once cooked, ground skin, when drizzled with lard, becomes richly aromatic, smooth, and delicious. To stir-fry ground skin, heat the pan until very hot, then sauté some scallion greens, shredded ginger, and chili in oil. Add the ground skin and stir-fry, season with salt, then cover the pan and let it simmer briefly. Before adding it to the pan, the ground skin should be slightly drained of moisture; otherwise, too much water released during cooking can affect the taste. Ground skin has high shrinkage—what looks like a big pile ends up as just a small bowl after cooking. When eaten, it’s crisp, smooth, tender, soft, fragrant, and spicy, making it especially appetizing. Stir-fried with eggs or Chinese chives, it tastes great, and it adds a smooth yet non-greasy texture when used in soups. Cold-dressed, it has a uniquely refreshing and tranquil flavor reminiscent of rainwater.

　　 It’s been decades since I last ate ground skin. Thinking of those familiar wild vegetables, faintly bitter yet carrying a whiff of earthy fragrance, my mood becomes especially relaxed and cheerful. Thinking of the post-rain sky of my hometown, recalling the scent of wild grasses and flowers, my heart feels moist and contemplative.

　　 December 2011, Zhang Caifu. Written in Urumqi.