Drool Broth

Drool Broth

　　As the name suggests, "Drool Broth" is a porridge-like mixture made with—yup—you guessed it—drool. (Heh-heh, hope that doesn’t scare you off!) This is actually an informal alias I’ve given it to help readers get a vivid mental image of this oddity. The term may not be perfectly fitting. In Tengchong, its real name is “stir-fried noodle dregs” (using “渣” pronounced as the third tone “zha”). In the local dialect, this word is a general term used to refer to mushy cooked foods such as porridge or broth. But here, “dregs” is used only because the pronunciation is similar, even though the meanings are worlds apart. In our region, Central Plains culture was introduced early on, and traditional mindsets and old customs have taken deep root—even in some cases being “further elevated.” Even an ordinary person’s life is bound to go through multiple feudalistic “rituals and respects”! Some have even reached the extreme. From the moment one is born, these old traditions constantly trouble people. From infancy’s “full moon,” “hundred-day,” and “first birthday” celebrations, to adulthood rites, then from age fifty onward, every ten years comes another birthday memorial ceremony, all the way up to the grand funeral after one’s hundredth year. In between, there are various “obligations” like housewarming for new builds, “joyful relocation,” weddings with their “thirty-six” customs, and even posthumous ceremonies like “fifty-seventh day,” “first anniversary,” and “mourning removal.” The list goes on—big and small, easily at least a dozen times or more, wow! Whenever someone in the neighborhood has an event—big or small—it becomes a feast day for everyone. Typically, every family will either serve “four dishes and four pickles” or go all out with “eight bowls.” It’s common to set out seventy or eighty tables casually. Whether you can eat or not, people don’t necessarily have to come in person—the important thing is that your “representative” must show up. Those who can’t afford to give money at least dig out some old “silk-lined mat” that was gifted during a previous banquet but never got used, and register it at the guest book of the hosting family under the “representatives” section, clearly noting the name of the giver before sitting down to eat with a clear conscience. Otherwise, if the host’s table lacks salt and oil and you leave unsatisfied, you’ll lose even the “right” to grumble afterward. And if you ever want to invite that family to a future banquet, they’ll likely give you just one word in response…

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　　“Pah!”

　　As people’s lives get more and more “prosperous,” there are more and more banquet events, and the atmosphere gets even livelier. But those big spreads of food are increasingly “untouchable.” The reason is simple: people today no longer see those once “glorious” “feast spreads” as anything special. These days, diners are far more “refined”—even the most elaborate “three-course water” banquets fail to whet their appetite. Most just nibble on a bit of pre-meal sweet wine or pastries, rarely touch the main courses, and if they’re in a good mood, might sip a drink or pass around a pack of ceremonial cigarettes before making polite conversation with the hosts and then leaving. Once the guests are gone, the hosts are left staring blankly. At this point, while they’ve received quite a few “representatives,” typically for major events like weddings or funerals, the hosts might make a small profit. But this is also a place that values “frugality.” So despite mountains of untouched dishes (many barely touched!), the family can only sigh as they’re about to dump them all into the garbage bin. (Heh—heh, turns out vanity and face are truly the highest virtues!)

　　At this point, the long-awaited “stir-fried noodle dregs” finally makes its entrance. This dish can be considered a byproduct of famine years. Those born in the early 1970s or earlier probably remember it well. Back then, life was harsh, reality was “cruel,” and human nature was twisted. Customs and traditions had to be upheld to maintain one’s standing in the family, so no matter what, the formalities had to be observed—even if it meant borrowing money or buying rice on credit to keep up appearances. Yet somehow, expenses always exceeded income. Those were destitute times. Guests often brought nothing more than a foot of plain cloth or two packs of “Yin-Yang Heart” biscuits, yet that was enough to send the whole household swarming over like they were “feasting on the rich.” The host’s bitterness, though, had to be quietly poured into the drain behind the house. But the human mind is ultimately resourceful—even in hard times, people can refine a bit of life’s “essence.” Take “stir-fried noodle dregs,” for example. No one knows exactly who first came up with the idea or when, but someone accidentally became its pioneer. Leftover dishes that kept being reheated were on the verge of going bad. So that person dried leftover rice that had been washed, toasted it in a pan, then took it to the mill to grind into rice flour. Back home, they tossed all the leftover food scraps into a big pot to boil. Then they sprinkled in the rice flour, added a bit of salt and seasoning, and simmered it for a while. Suddenly, an amazing aroma wafted out from the pot, unbelievably. Once it thickened into a porridge, they scooped it into bowls, drizzled a bit of red chili oil... and oh, the fragrance, the texture—just unbelievable. You’d never guess the ingredients were so humble. Its best trait? The more meat dishes you toss in, the better. Eat a lot and you still won’t get sick of it. After a couple of bowls, your belly’s full, but you’ll still want to take some home in a little bucket to reheat later—and it tastes even better when reheated, richer and more aromatic the longer it’s warmed up.

　　Nowadays, people couldn’t care less about those lavish banquets. But the resulting “stir-fried noodle dregs”? Hardly anyone dislikes them. Well, except maybe for a few pretentious folks, locally dubbed “Diaochan” (“picky eaters”). They won’t deny how tasty it is—they’re just ruled by their so-called “allergy” to “drool food,” forcing themselves to unreasonably reject it.

　　It’s said that a fellow from Tengchong opened a restaurant in Shenzhen a few years ago called “Babao Zhen,” which did booming business. Not long ago, relatives went to visit and discovered that “stir-fried noodle dregs” was the restaurant’s sole signature dish. Only, they used fresh ingredients and processed them the old-fashioned way before serving them hot. A few nearby fast-food joints that used to do well were completely overshadowed and never recovered. All of this is absolutely true. I just wonder—when my old friend hears about me saying all this, will he be grateful... or ticked off?