Rice and Fish Home-Style Meals

Rice and Fish Home-Style Meals

　　Rice and Fish Home-Style Meals

　　The central hall of the Rau people’s stilt house is the main room, used for ancestor worship and receiving guests. On either side are wing rooms; the back part serves as bedrooms, while the front section has a hearth—a place to entertain guests for meals.

　　The Rau people are extremely warm and hospitable. They light a big fire in the hearth, place a round iron tripod over it to hold an iron pot, in which they cook their homemade vegetable tofu and fresh vegetables. Across the top of the pot lies a wooden board holding a bowl of salt dip, filled with salt, dried chili, chopped scallions, and MSG. Around the pot are also arranged seven or eight dishes of flavorful specialties, such as smoked cured meat, fried peanuts, and shrimp omelets.

　　Whenever guests come to dine, they must be accompanied by the host—the male host for male guests, the female host for female guests. The hosts enthusiastically serve meat and dishes to the guests’ bowls and frequently offer them wine. The warm and cheerful female host may even sing a toast song as she raises her wine bowl, making the dinner particularly lively and joyful. Just as everyone is happily drinking and eating, the male host suddenly leaves the table. Soon after, he returns with a wooden basin. We look inside to see live carp swimming about. While we are still amazed, the male host says, “We don’t have any delicacies to offer you, but please try the fresh fish from the Rao River.”

　　As he speaks, he reaches into the basin and scoops out the live fish one by one, slipping them into the boiling hotpot. Meanwhile, the female host brings each guest a plate of fragrant rice.

　　When the fish in the pot are cooked, the male host lifts a fish head with chopsticks. Someone gently scrapes off the scales with their chopsticks, then shaves off the fish meat and places it in the dipping sauce bowl. The male host then picks up pieces of tender fish from the bowl and offers them to the guests, inviting them to eat the fish with their rice. Ah, this reminds me of the ancient Chinese saying, “rice and fish.” It’s one of the cultural traits of agrarian peoples. Many ethnic minorities in southern China began cultivating rice early on and lived by rivers and lakes, engaging in fishing and hunting. Eating rice and fish became their dietary habit under such specific production conditions—hence the term “land of fish and rice.” The Rau people have long lived and worked along both sides of the Rao River, which originates from Pearl Spring, growing rice as fine as pearls. Thus, their staple food is mainly rice, and they especially enjoy glutinous rice and its products. Additionally, the Rao River water is clear and fast-flowing, abundant in fish and shrimp, and the locals practice fish farming in rice paddies, leading to the unique dining customs of “live fish served at the table” and “rice and fish.” The areas along the Rao River where the Rau people live have thus become a “land of fish and rice.”

　　While we were drinking, eating, and tasting fish in the lively atmosphere, several neighbors suddenly joined us for drinks. It turns out that the hospitable Rau people have a custom: whenever a guest arrives at any household, they are considered the guest of the entire village. As soon as they’re informed, the neighbors will come to celebrate. The host fills a full bowl of wine for each of them, then raises the bowl and drinks a “unity wine” with everyone. Amidst the “Wuho!” cheers, everyone raises their bowls and drinks them all in one go, sending the dinner into another wave of excitement.

　　I’m not much of a drinker, but under the hosts’ enthusiastic urging, I couldn’t refuse and ended up having a few cups.

　　I was slightly drunk—not from the alcohol, but from my heart. Faced with such beautiful scenery, such warm and hospitable hosts, and such simple, harmonious local customs, how could my heart not be moved?

　　That night, we stayed in the host family’s guest room. Looking out the window at the moon, listening to the murmuring sound of the Rao River, and the distant and near croaking of frogs in the rice fields, I fell sound asleep.