Soybean Oil Skin

Soybean Oil Skin

　　With the continuous improvement of people's living standards, soybean oil skin is no longer a delicacy reserved for the wealthy. In Weng'an, ordinary people can enjoy it at any time. Soybean oil skin is also no longer limited to making the so-called "Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup." Cutting it into shreds for cold dishes, slicing it thinly to stir-fry with meat, adding it to hot pot, deep-frying it until crispy for thousands of plates—it’s all considered high-quality cuisine. Its flavor is pure, retaining the original fragrant essence of tofu, and its nutritional value is indeed the essence of tofu, being extremely rich. No matter what dish it is paired with, it never overpowers the taste, never loses its own, giving the impression of being oily but not greasy, smooth but not sickening, fragrant but not overwhelming, pure without mixed flavors, crispy without hardness, soft but not tough.

　　Detailed Introduction:

　　A Delicacy on the Banquet Table: Soybean Oil Skin

　　 Soybean oil skin, the essence of tofu, a delicacy on the banquet table.

　　 Soybean oil skin, the fruit of diligence, a symbol of wisdom.

　　 In my memory, my grandfather’s generation used to make and sell tofu, and I accompanied my mother to the streets to sell tofu more than once. My mother would carry two or three baskets of tofu on her head while telling me stories. Once, she carried a basket of bundled tofu skins—also called soybean oil skin—to the market to sell. I asked her doubtfully, “What is this? Can it be sold for money?” My mother said mysteriously, “Well, this is something very good. It’s the refined essence extracted from tofu, even more valuable than tofu itself. It’s called soybean oil skin, and there’s a nice story behind it.” Hearing there was a good story, I begged her to tell it. Unable to resist my pestering, my mother told me the story of soybean oil skin.

　　 Long ago, in our village, there was a family surnamed Zheng who made tofu. Their tofu business had been around for nearly a hundred years. The tofu they made was fresh and tender, famous for miles around. One year, a local wealthy landlord named Hu was preparing to marry off his son and had been planning the banquet menu six months in advance. One day, he gathered renowned local chefs to help arrange the menu. After days and nights of deliberation, they couldn’t decide on one dish—the "Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup." It was said to be an imperial delicacy from the Zhu Dynasty’s royal court. Hu insisted on serving this famous dish to show the high status of his guests, but the chefs were troubled because they couldn’t figure out how to make it. The reason? This famous dish required an ingredient—“tofu.” According to local customs, tofu could not appear on banquet tables during happy occasions like weddings. Yet Hu refused to give up on the dish. Deadlocked, Hu stroked his beard and declared, “Zhao the Steward, you handle solving how to achieve the taste of tofu without actually using tofu.” Zhao the Steward took on this difficult task, his brows furrowed in worry. When he got home, his wife noticed his unusual expression and asked, “Why are you unhappy today? You look miserable as soon as you walked in.” The steward poured out all his troubles: how Hu was organizing the wedding banquet menu, how he had tasked him with arranging the "Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup" that needed the taste of tofu but couldn’t use actual tofu. His wife pondered for a moment and said, “What’s the problem? Go see the famous Zheng tofu family and hand this ‘good deed’ over to them. Tell them to deliver it in two months—you’ll be off the hook.” Hearing his wife’s advice, Zhao the Steward’s worries finally lifted.

　　 Zhao the Steward passed this thankless task onto the Zheng tofu family, which then became a burden for the Zheng household. They couldn’t refuse the task, but they had no idea what to use as a substitute. What could they do? The whole family lost their appetite and couldn’t sleep well. The Zhengs were anxious and fearful, as the deadline set by Hu was approaching day by day. Zhao the Steward kept pressuring them every few days, and life became unbearable for the Zhengs. Just when they had no solution and were waiting for Hu’s punishment, a lucky coincidence led to a miracle.

　　 One day, Zheng’s daughter-in-law Cuimei was alone, bustling about in the tofu workshop. The soy milk in the pot was boiling wildly, and Cuimei was just about to pour in a basin of sour soup—a step known as curdling the tofu. Suddenly, she heard Zhao the Steward’s voice outside: “Is Zheng the Tofu maker home?” Cuimei hurriedly dropped what she was doing, put on a smile, and came out to greet him. She served tea, offered tobacco, and showered Zhao with compliments, begging for more time and promising not to delay Hu’s big day and to deliver the goods on time. Somehow, she managed to persuade Zhao to grant an extension. As he left, Cuimei specially packed four pieces of tofu for him.

　　 Only after sending Zhao away did Cuimei suddenly remember the soy milk still in the pot. By the time she rushed back to the workshop, the firewood in the stove had mostly burned out, leaving only glowing charcoal embers flickering in the hearth. The soy milk, which had been boiling fiercely, had now calmed down due to the forgotten sour soup. A thin, shiny layer of soybean oil skin had floated to the surface. Cuimei, naturally clever, looked at the floating oil skin and suddenly had an idea: she could dry it and use it to replace the “tofu” in the imperial “Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup.” She quickly grabbed a spatula, turned it around, and slowly and gently lifted one end into the pot. Then, with care, she raised it upwards. A flat, shiny piece of soybean oil skin dripping with soy milk hung from the spatula handle. Cuimei was thrilled and promptly hung the lifted oil skin on a tofu rack. When she turned back to curdle more tofu, she noticed another layer of skin floating on the surface. Overjoyed, she forgot that her mother-in-law was waiting on the street for her to deliver tofu for sale. She simply went on lifting more oil skin. By the time her mother-in-law returned from selling tofu and wondered why her daughter-in-law hadn’t brought the tofu, she rushed home. But instead of crates of pressed tofu, she found the workshop full of soybean oil skin—and Cuimei was focused on lifting more. Her mother-in-law’s complaints immediately turned into confusion. She didn’t understand what Cuimei was up to. Just as she was about to ask, Cuimei explained her discovery and her idea. Upon hearing that her daughter-in-law intended to use the oil skin as a tofu substitute for the “Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup,” she realized how crucial this discovery was for their family. Overwhelmed, tears welled up in her eyes. She murmured, “Our family is saved, our family is saved!”

　　 The Zheng family was overjoyed. After working hard for a week, they managed not to miss Hu’s wedding date. It was said that on the day of Hu’s grand banquet, when this “Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup” made with soybean oil skin was served, the entire table seemed to shine brighter. The soybean oil skin, with its light yellow hue, caught everyone’s eye. Its glossy, smooth texture gleamed brilliantly, filling the banquet hall with aroma. Guests salivated, showering it with constant praise.

　　 Although the discovery of soybean oil skin was accidental, made by an ordinary rural woman, it turned the Zheng family—a poor commoner household—from crisis to safety. The emergence of soybean oil skin enriched people’s culinary lives and stands as a testament to the wisdom of working people.

　　 With the continuous improvement of people's living standards, soybean oil skin is no longer a delicacy reserved for the wealthy. In Weng'an, ordinary people can enjoy it at any time. Soybean oil skin is also no longer limited to making the so-called "Pearl, Jadeite, and White Jade Soup." Cutting it into shreds for cold dishes, slicing it thinly to stir-fry with meat, adding it to hot pot, deep-frying it until crispy for thousands of plates—it’s all considered high-quality cuisine. Its flavor is pure, retaining the original fragrant essence of tofu, and its nutritional value is indeed the essence of tofu, being extremely rich. No matter what dish it is paired with, it never overpowers the taste, never loses its own, giving the impression of being oily but not greasy, smooth but not sickening, fragrant but not overwhelming, pure without mixed flavors, crispy without hardness, soft but not tough.

　　 Today, Weng'an produces up to a hundred tons of soybean oil skin annually, all of high quality and sold both within and beyond the province. In just Qixing Village, located in the northern suburbs of the county town, over a hundred households specialize in producing and processing a series of tofu products, making it a widely known "Tofu Village."

　　 Soybean oil skin, a specialty of Weng'an. In this new historical period, it has become a pathway to prosperity for people striving toward a better life, and a unique highlight in the economic development of Weng'an.