Xiantao Farmhouse Tofu

Xiantao Farmhouse Tofu

　　In my hometown, there were several things that had to be done during the olden days of the New Year: salting fish and meat, stir-frying spicy pot dishes, frying oil snacks, boiling sugar, and making tofu. No matter how the harvest fared, among these tasks, aside from salting fish and meat—which sometimes weren’t prepared due to special circumstances—making tofu was absolutely essential. By the 20th or so day of the lunar December, wisps of white smoke curled from the chimneys of every kitchen, followed by the rich aroma of tofu wafting through the air. If you walked into any kitchen, the locals would warmly scoop up a bowl of hot soy milk from the boiling pot and offer it to you, letting you enjoy it spoonful by spoonful with white sugar.

　　 Tofu is a gem among Chinese foods. As the saying goes: “Rich meats upset the stomach, but greens and tofu keep you safe.” Xiantao, a famous land of fish and rice, widely cultivates soybeans among its crops—grown in dry fields, on field ridges, and intercropped with cotton. With an abundance of soybeans, tofu has become a staple dish for the people of Xiantao.

　　 There are many records about tofu. According to *Compendium of Materia Medica*, the inventor of tofu was Liu An, the King of Huainan: “The method of making tofu began with King Liu An of Huainan.” Legend has it that Liu An created this delicacy using soybeans and brine. The people of Xiantao have a long history of making tofu. The unique water quality, traditional tools, and the local soil-grown soybeans all contribute to tofu with distinctive characteristics and flavors. Xiantao offers a variety of tofu products, based primarily on white tofu, including thousand-layer tofu, dried tofu, smoked tofu, fermented tofu, stinky tofu, tofu pudding, and tofu balls.

　　 The process of making farmhouse tofu in Xiantao generally includes: soaking soybeans in cold water—using wooden barrels, not tap water, as tofu made from tap-water-soaked soybeans doesn’t taste good and has a sour flavor. After a day or two, once the soybeans have swollen, they are ground in a mill. When making tofu, adults turn the mill while children scoop soybeans with a certain amount of water, aiming carefully at the mill’s opening, estimating the number of turns the adult has made, and adding the beans accordingly. The adult must turn steadily, and the child must add precisely and quickly—otherwise, their hand might get hit by the mill’s crossbar. Adding beans is also a skillful task: too many will clog the mill, too few will waste a turn, and turning an empty mill wears down the millstone teeth. Moreover, the quality of pre-grinding directly affects the tofu yield. Next, the soy milk is scooped into a tofu cloth bag, then stirred and squeezed while being rinsed with hot water. The soy milk is pressed out into a basin, leaving behind the soybean residue. The filtered soy milk is then poured into an iron pot and slowly cooked over low heat. The flame shouldn’t be too strong, or the soy milk may boil over. After adding gypsum, when a layer of wrinkles forms on the surface, the mixture is scooped into a tofu cloth pouch and pressed dry. Unwrap the cloth, and white tofu is revealed.

　　 To make thousand-layer tofu, cooked soy milk is poured into square molds lined with gauze, spread thinly layer by layer, and then pressed to form. When soy milk turns into tofu pudding, it floats in the pot like cotton fluff in the air. Directly scooping it into a bucket yields tofu pudding, which doesn’t require pressing. Fermented tofu (stinky tofu) is a specialty of Xiantao. White tofu is cut into small square pieces, placed in bamboo baskets, and naturally fermented until white fuzz about two inches long grows. After drying, a bit of sesame oil and chili sauce are sprinkled on, and it’s then pickled in a water-sealed jar for a few days before eating. The outside is crispy and spicy, the inside soft, and a single bite releases a subtle fragrance with endless aftertaste. There’s also a type called smoked dried tofu, where white tofu is smoked over the stove until dark. This blackened smoked tofu, when stir-fried with cured meat and garlic sprouts, is incredibly fragrant and can be preserved for a long time—a true marvel.

　　 There are also many ways to eat tofu: such as tofu balls, tofu soup, stinky tofu, and fermented soybean dregs—all considered unique delights of the rural folks, too numerous to fully describe.

　　 Tofu is loved not only by common folk but also by emperors. Emperor Qianlong of the Qing Dynasty was particularly fond of tofu. One year, when he visited Hangzhou and dined at a restaurant, the owner’s wife served him a peculiar dish. Qianlong, savoring it, couldn’t help but ask: “What is this dish called?” The owner’s wife replied: “This is the Red-Mouthed Green Parrot and the Gold-Trimmed White Jade Plate.” In reality, the dish was nothing more than the ordinary pairing of spinach and tofu. Judging by modern nutrition science, spinach should not be cooked with white tofu, as a substance in spinach can destroy the effective nutrients in tofu.

　　 The Chinese language is incredibly rich. Proverbs related to tofu include: “A sharp tongue but a tofu heart,” describing someone who is harsh in speech but soft in heart; “No handle on tofu,” belittling those who are shady or untrustworthy; “Scallions mixed with tofu, clear and white”; “Gypsum curdles tofu, one thing overcomes another”; “Wu Dalang selling tofu, weak man with weak goods…” and so on, too many to list.

　　 But all in all, if you want to try tofu, come and taste the old Mianyang tofu of Xiantao.