Lanzhou Malatang

Lanzhou Malatang

　　  Back when I was studying at Gansu University of Technology, there was a middle-aged woman who set up a small stall selling malatang downhill from the school gate.

    The malatang she made had a rich and fragrant flavor, spicy and delicious, with generous skewers. A single plate of spicy noodles was a full meal for us girls with a sweet tooth.

    We basically went there two or three times a week. Every time I went, I’d get potato slices, lettuce, pig’s blood cubes, cauliflower, plus a plate of thin or wide noodles. Even before eating, the mouthwatering aroma would waft over, making our appetites soar.

    Even though it was outdoors, it didn’t affect our appetite or mood at all. Sitting on simple long benches, facing that plate of red and green vegetables, our mouths would water instantly. Then we’d add a plate of noodles, a splash of vinegar to tone down the spice, and dig in. It was so delicious—we’d break into a light sweat from the heat, sometimes even get teary-eyed from the spiciness. But we craved it so much, there was no helping it.

    It’s been years since graduation, and the days away from Lanzhou are also the days I miss malatang the most. The malatang here is truly a local specialty—cooked in a big pot of broth, mixing various vegetables and noodles together, then scooped out with a strainer and briefly blanched in the boiling pot. They’d then add some chicken soup on top. I really disliked that taste; after trying it once, I never wanted to have it again. It only made me miss the little street stall near the school gate even more.

    Sometimes when I bump into old classmates online, we still talk about that malatang stall. Everyone says they miss it terribly, craving it like crazy. It’s just a pity I live too far away. Next time I get the chance to go back home, I’ll definitely go and have my fill. I wonder if that little stall is still there?