Opening my friend’s kitchen cabinet to look for spices, I came across a yellow-brown porcelain bowl shaped like a pumpkin. The bowl has a lid, the bowl in the past when my mother was young, she used to store lard for the family to use gradually. Opening the lid, the solid ivory white color of the bowl of fat was carefully stored by you. Your voice rang out: “My mother bought some lard the other day. She still keeps a bowl of lard in the kitchen like when we were kids. She bought a lot so she sent a bowl to her daughter.” Your explanation about my mother’s concern brought back memories of the small kitchen in my mind. About the old wooden cupboard, about the top shelf where my mother kept the spice jars and there was the ceramic fat bowl that any child like me would love…
Greasy memories. Photo author provides
No one in their 70s or 80s is unfamiliar with the ceramic bowl of lard containing the fragrant, greasy scent of solidified lard with an opaque, ivory white color. At that time, cooking oil was not as popular as it is now, so lard was the top choice. A bowl of fat seems to make a mother’s pantry full, a bowl of fat makes her dishes more greasy, and a bowl of fat also makes her children excited because after giving birth, that layer of solidified fat is Next to the bowl of lard, mother will have a bowl of fatty pork rinds simmered in fish sauce and eaten with hot rice, making everyone’s eyes sparkle with excitement.
In those days, every time my mother went to the market and saw thick white fat, I thought she would buy it and fry it to eat the fat. The pieces of fat with a thin layer of lean meat on top were washed by my father, cut into evenly thick pieces and placed in a Hai Phong aluminum pan with two handles for frying. Just a moment in the white aluminum pan mixed with some black stains due to being used to do many things: stir-frying vegetables, roasting meat, frying fat… it gave off the rich aroma of lard.
The pan of fat boiled evenly, my mother kept the heat low for fear of burning the fat, and most importantly, she wanted the pork rinds to not be shriveled because it was also a food that could prepare many dishes to fill my family’s dinner table. The crackling sound of the dry, crispy longan wood sticks mixed with the firelight seemed to dance, causing my mother’s fat to ripple in a light yellow color, entwined with pieces of fat that were inviting my sisters and me.
Once the batch of fried lard was finished, mother waited for it to cool, then poured the lard into a ceramic bowl (tureen) with a lid and then she let it rest in the corner of the cupboard. The amount of golden white pork rinds and the aroma of the little lean meat at the top of the small pork rinds made us, my mother’s children, immediately think of pork rinds simmered in fish sauce, pork rinds stir-fried with chicken eggs or a more luxurious dish. Pork fat makes crispy spring roll filling. The meal consisted of only stir-fried vegetables and lard served with the main dish of pork rinds with variations from the mother’s diligent and mature hands, but everyone’s heart was filled with anticipation for the tray of rice to be quickly prepared for their delight. Enjoy the delicious flavor from a plate of fragrant and greasy stir-fried water spinach with garlic, and the fat from the soft, chewy pork rinds.

The fat bowl of childhood. Photo author provides
In just a moment, my mother’s wood-cooked rice cooker hit the bottom along with the empty plates and bowls of pork fat. The youngest child rubbed his stomach because he was full of rice and asked his mother: “Tomorrow, mom, make fried pork fat with eggs. Ut likes to eat it very much.” Mom smiled gently and rubbed the youngest head: “Dad, my older brother, being good means having pork fat stir-fried with eggs. What’s wrong, mom’s pantry is full of pork fat”…
Besides stir-frying vegetables, frying spring rolls, frying rice or omelettes,… mother’s fat makes my three sisters and I enjoy it even more than occasionally on those cold winter Sunday mornings. Mom got up early to make a fire to cook sticky rice and sticky rice. Dad went to the village to change it. Just for a moment in the kitchen, the flickering firelight of that winter day, the warm smell of the fire mingled with the scent of Dad’s new pot of sticky, fragrant sticky rice.
The sisters rushed into the kitchen, the youngest considered herself the privilege of snuggling in her mother’s lap, where there was a thick cotton shirt she wore, where there was love filled with her asking for breakfast. A bowl of steaming hot sticky rice, fragrant with the smell of sticky rice, was smeared by my mother with a little fatty, congealed lard. Hot sticky rice makes that layer of white fat gradually melt into sticky sticky rice grains, making the sticky rice bowl more attractive and inviting. While eating, everyone said: “Mom’s lard sticky rice is the best.” Everyone’s eyes were smiling with joy…
In modern life, lard is replaced by convenient cooking oil. But for me, in the land of ancient memories, the fatty aroma of lard, the smell of pork rinds, or the image of the brown ceramic bowl my mother often requisitioned to store lard as a witness, as a beautiful memory that has been raised. Nurtured my sisters’ childhood. There, in the small kitchen where my beloved cupboard had a magical bowl of grease, I felt like I saw my mother’s gentle smile and happy eyes again every time my mother worked hard to create dishes that were simple and rustic but warm and friendly. family.
Electronic media Vietnamese people Open the column “Telling village stories” from March 4, 2020. This column is for all professional and amateur authors who have love for the countryside and want to share their true stories with readers.
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