Pushi Taro Balls

Pushi Taro Balls

　　I once read a story about a woman who fell ill and needed water chestnuts as a medicinal ingredient. In the cold winter, her husband ran from the upper street to the lower street, braving the freezing wind just to find a few water chestnuts. Even though he didn’t succeed, he was happy for her. To walk this earth and encounter someone willing to brave the bitter cold just to find you a medicinal ingredient—truly, that person must care deeply for you. It’s an incredibly fortunate thing. I think, even if the man couldn’t buy the water chestnuts, and the woman eventually passed away, she would still leave this world with a smile, filled with happiness. So every time I see water chestnuts being sold on the street, I can’t help but think of that story, of the man in it—imagining him shivering, rubbing his hands together, stomping his feet, and looking around in the cold wind. I also think of the woman lying in her sickbed, pale but still smiling. Sometimes, I wonder how wonderful it would be if that couple lived in my county. At least when they wanted water chestnuts, they could just take some money, walk to the street, and see a Pushi person selling two baskets of them. They wouldn’t have to search high and low in vain. Perhaps, with the water chestnuts as the medicinal ingredient, the woman’s illness would be completely cured, and the loving couple could grow old together in harmony.

　　When I was a child, I called water chestnuts “pu xu zi,” not sure if it had any connection to “Bodhi.” If one were to say that water chestnuts had attained enlightenment and reached a transcendent state, that might be a stretch. I suppose ordinary people just named them based on their appearance—the sprout tips on top made them look like the whiskers growing from a Bodhi seed. People liked the profound meaning behind the word “Bodhi,” so they chose the “pu” from Bodhi to name the water chestnuts, perhaps also elevating their status a bit. After starting school, even though I learned from picture books that the proper name for “pu xu zi” was water chestnuts, I still preferred to call them by my childhood name. It wasn’t until one day when I went to the market to shop that I realized all the vendors uniformly called water chestnuts “deng xin zi” (lamp wick balls). Judging by their accents, they were all from Pushi. Compared to my “pu xu zi,” “deng xin zi” seemed a more fitting description—their delicate appearance resembling a small oil lamp, with the sprout tips looking just like lamp wicks. The name Pushi people gave to water chestnuts was truly excellent.

　　Actually, my county doesn’t only produce water chestnuts in Pushi. It’s just that thanks to Pushi’s unique geographical environment, the water chestnuts grown there are large, with red skins, snow-white flesh, and a sweet, crisp taste. Those who grew water chestnuts started following Pushi’s example and began calling them “deng xin zi” to fetch better prices. However, while Pushi dialect is easy to pick up, producing water chestnuts of the same quality as those from Pushi is another matter—just by their appearance, you can tell the real from the fake. Vendors from Pushi often come to the market early in the morning, carrying two large baskets. Interestingly, the water chestnuts in the two baskets differ in size—one basket has larger ones, the other smaller—and they’re priced differently for customers to choose from. These vendors also have a distinct trait: every time they come to the market, they insist on selling their goods themselves and refuse to wholesale the two big baskets of water chestnuts to merchants. In the words of the Pushi people, “Why should I lower my standards and sell to those merchants when I can sell them myself? Even if the price is a bit lower than the market rate, it’s fine—the buyers get more value, and we who grow these deng xin zi don’t have it easy. We can’t just let those resellers profit off our hard work.” See? The Pushi people are shrewd—they understand the difference between wholesale and retail, and they know the benefits of small profits but quick turnover. That’s why, despite carrying two large baskets of water chestnuts each time, they always manage to sell out in no time.

　　Pushi is a major town in my county and one of the three most famous ancient towns in western Hunan. Reporters from National Geographic Magazine once centered their feature on the cultural journey through western Hunan around Pushi. In the past, Pushi was known as “Little Nanjing,” which speaks volumes about its prosperity. Thanks to the meandering Yuan River that closely surrounds Pushi, the town had a large dock and became a freight port during the Ming and Qing dynasties. Within this ancient town of less than two square kilometers, there were once three ancient commercial streets, six ancient theaters, guildhalls from thirteen provinces, over twenty freight docks, forty-five lanes, more than fifty enclosed-firewall courtyard houses, seventy-two temples and Taoist shrines, and over ninety workshops. It has long enjoyed the reputation of “Little Nanjing.” That’s why when Pushi people talk about their town, they say, “Pushi is like a cup of rice wine. At first glance, it might not impress you. But if you stay for a while, you’ll definitely get drunk—drunk through and through, as if you’ve stepped into the dust of a past life.” I think Pushi’s water chestnuts also owe their sweet, crisp essence to this very land, much like lotus roots and honey tangerines. As soon as you say they’re from Pushi, people will gather around, and they’ll be snapped up in no time.

　　Everyone knows that water chestnuts grow in mud, surrounded by dark, filthy sludge all day long. But none of that stops people from loving Pushi water chestnuts. Zhou Dunyi once said he loved lotuses for emerging from the mud unsoiled. And I say, I love water chestnuts for maintaining their purity despite being rooted in the mud. Yes, so what if they’re wrapped in stinky, filthy mud? The pure remain pure, and the impure remain impure. Water chestnuts keep their inner whiteness intact, offering all their sweetness to humanity. Isn’t that a greater virtue than even the lotus?

　　The greatness of water chestnuts lies not only in their delicious taste but also in their medicinal value. Rich in protein, fat, various vitamins, and trace elements, water chestnuts can be eaten raw or cooked. Raw, they’re crisp; cooked, they’re sweet and tender—each way offers a unique flavor. For a refreshing dish, blanch pork ribs to remove the blood, then cook them with water chestnuts in a pressure cooker for 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, and you’ve got a light and tasty braised pork rib and water chestnut stew—a highly nutritious tonic. For a sweet soup, cut sugarcane into sections and lightly smash them with the back of a knife. Peel and lightly smash carrots and water chestnuts with the back of a knife as well. Then combine all three ingredients in a pot with water and rock sugar, and simmer for an hour to make a delicious water chestnut sweet soup. This soup also helps improve circulation, clear heat, reduce internal fire, and aid in weight loss. According to traditional medical texts, mixing water chestnut juice with fresh lotus root juice, pear juice, fresh reed rhizome juice, and ophiopogon juice creates a “Five-Juice Drink” that can help lower blood pressure. Water chestnuts are a cooling food with heat-clearing and fire-purging properties, making them highly effective in preventing acute infectious diseases. And going back to the story at the beginning of this article, we can also see that water chestnuts have certain therapeutic effects on gynecological conditions—no wonder doctors use them as medicinal ingredients.

　　So, when water chestnuts are in season and Pushi vendors walk the streets selling their affordable, high-quality water chestnuts, be sure to stop them. Grab a plastic bag and pick out a bunch of the big ones. Don’t bother haggling—the hardworking and kind Pushi people will gladly offer you a good deal, often even waiving the small change. Then, with the rest of your day ahead, you can lean back on the sofa, holding your newly bought water chestnuts, and ponder whether to eat them raw or cooked. Finally, pop a freshly peeled, jade-like water chestnut into your mouth and slowly savor its sweet, fresh flavor. Just remember, though water chestnuts are delicious, they are a raw, cold food—so those with weak spleens or kidneys might not be able to enjoy them.