The photo comes from the Internet
My favorite bowl of noodles has no name, but we all call it: "Yan Guan's noodles".
This noodle shop is a legend, at least for people who have lived in Xincheng District, Ningxia.
It originated in the early 1980s. Because the owner's surname was Yan, everyone called it "Salt House".
Lao Yan’s family wanted to have a son, but they gave birth to seven daughters at once. They finally gave up, but the seven mouths still wanted to eat and drink. The whole family relied on Lao Yan’s salary from working in the factory, and Aunt Yan had no job. , but he was good at making noodles, and finally opened a noodle shop in the house across the street from his house, specializing in sliced noodles . Don't ask me why I know so clearly, Yan Liu is my classmate.
At that time, it was still planned economy , and it was not very fashionable to do business. Lao Yan had no choice but to dodge and open this restaurant, so there was no signboard from the first day of opening. Even the tables, chairs and benches in the store looked like various Households put together a temporary patchwork of square tables of different sizes and different heights, and stools of different lengths. The counter where Lao Yan collects money is an old desk that has been eliminated by an unknown school. Anyway, the business target is nearby. Workers in the factory don’t need to be particular.
Northwest people like pasta, and even like to eat a bowl of hot noodles in the morning. His restaurant is open next to the back door of a large state-owned enterprise with thousands of employees. Workers go to work on time early in the morning and order maoer, and then they Sneak out to his house to have breakfast, and then return to work in silence without missing anything. At that time, companies had a big pot of rice, and they had little money and no worries. They quickly finished the few tasks at hand, and the workers could find a quiet place to play a few games of poker. The winner or loser was the host of the salt shop in the evening.
There were not many restaurants nearby at that time. His family was in the right place at the right time, and the business was booming from the moment it opened.
I still remember the layout of his old shop. When I opened the door and went in, I saw a row of three connected adobe rooms. There was almost no layout in the shop. Tables were scattered randomly. Aunt Yan’s kitchen was right there as soon as I entered the door. There is no waiter in the back half of the room. When a customer passes by, he leans directly into the kitchen and explains to Aunt Yan: Two three liang, one half a catty ~
The salt restaurant only sells one kind of noodles, so only You need to report the quantity and serving size. If the conditions are good, two ounces of meat will be added. There is meat in this noodle, but it is almost impossible to get it. Most of the customers who add meat will go into the kitchen and pretend to chat with Aunt Yan. The purpose is to prevent Aunt Yan from adding the extra meat instead of the original meat. You must see it with your own eyes. After everyone finished cooking, I came out and sat down at the table to peel the garlic. There is always a bowl of garlic on every table. Northwest people cannot eat noodles without garlic.
Ordinary meat is fried as tender as possible, but the meat stir-fried by Aunt Yan is different. It is almost half burnt and dry, with no meaty smell at all, and is extremely delicious. The noodles are shaved to just the right thickness; any more will not taste good, and any less will not taste good. The soup just covers the noodles. Any more will make them thin, and any less will make them mushy. After finishing the noodles, there is still a mouthful of soup at the bottom. I just drank it in one gulp. The noodles were scattered in my stomach, and when I waited for this mouthful of soup to catch all the gaps, I burped, my forehead was sweating slightly, and my eyes looked into the unknown void. Take a breath, wipe off the sweat, and finally have a bowl of original white noodle soup delivered by Father Yan with a hanging pot. The original soup is transformed into the original food . Suddenly, the whole body feels comfortable and life is complete.
The photos come from the Internet
I met Yan Liu when I was in high school. At that time, her salt shop was already famous, but the layout had not changed at all, and there was still no waiter. Apart from the married sister Yan Liu and Yan Liuyanqi, who was studying, their sisters , and the rest took turns to help with the chores. At that time, there was still no signboard - there was no need for it at all. Who wouldn't know about the salt shop?
We liked to go to her house after school to study, and then she would ask us to wait for a while when it was almost time. Everyone knew that the time was coming, and excitedly lay beside the window, watching Yan Liushan cross the road and walk into her restaurant. After a while, the door opened She came out from the door, holding a big sea bowl in her hand. We all cheered, immediately put away the table and set up stools, and went into the kitchen to get bowls and chopsticks, waiting for her to come in and share the noodles.
Later, the sisters married far away one after another, and some went to study in other places. Only the third sister Yan worked in the factory next to the store, and later married a worker in the factory. Helping in the store, my mother is getting older and older. Sometimes when there are more customers, Sanjie Yan will also cook. In fact, she has been influenced by her mother for many years. The bowl of noodles cooked is almost indistinguishable from Aunt Yan, but regular customers People will still care about it. One more thing after entering the door, I asked Aunt Yan to do it herself. At that time, Aunt Yan only sat at the counter to collect money most of the time, but she was still very happy to hear such an unreasonable request and said with a smile. After putting on her apron and cooking the fried noodles, the third sister walked to the kitchen door and leaned against the door, folding her arms and looking outside for a while.
I moved out of that area in the late 1990s. At that time, Sanjie Yan had already set up her own business, and the performance of the state-owned enterprises was deteriorating. The couple simply " bought out the seniority " and stayed in the store together. The elderly Yan couple basically said goodbye. The stage of history. Third Sister Yan's husband later became the chef, but most of the old customers would still take special care of her and ask Third Sister to cook it herself. Third Sister laughed, got up and went into the kitchen and said, "It's the same, it's the same." Brother-in-law Yan San stepped out and squatted beside the store door to smoke a cigarette, staring blankly at the increasingly lively road.
I left Ningxia not long after, and came back after more than ten years. My first meal was actually at the Salt House. Later, I chatted with many old friends who used to live in that area. One thing we all had in common was that the first thing we did when we returned was to go to the Salt Shop to eat a bowl of noodles. Although I never forgot to sigh: the taste is not as good as before.
The old store has been demolished, and the new location is on a commercial street. This time it’s serious. It’s the first time I’ve seen it have a store sign: Yan Ji Noodle House.
The new store has two floors, with a spacious store and neat tables and chairs. It was not dinner time yet, and as soon as I walked in, I saw Sister Yan sitting at the cashier counter, looking down at her phone. She had long hair in a low ponytail, and her appearance had not changed. I went over to place an order, and she raised her head and her eyes lit up. I knew she recognized it. When I came out, I called out: "Third Sister". Obviously she knew my situation completely, because she said: "When did you come back?"
When I ordered, I still said: "One, two liang".
She asked me which one I wanted? I was stunned, and after asking, I found out that there are now braised noodles, and fried noodles, but I never knew which kind we had been eating for many years. Fortunately, she understood and said it was braised noodles.
But the taste is indeed not as good as before, but I can't tell the difference. It's saltier and spicier than before. It's a bit like I'm not confident in my cooking skills, so I added more seasonings. I couldn't finish it. This has never happened before. I haven't seen Yan San's brother-in-law before, so I don't know if it's his craftsmanship. It doesn't seem like it. I think he hired a cook.
While eating, I had a chat with my third sister. In recent years, as all the nearby factories have closed down, many people have moved away from this area. There are not many old customers anymore, and the new customers are not obsessed with this one bite. The business is getting more and more. It’s difficult to make, so in order to attract customers, the variety has been increased a lot, and pork knuckles and sauced meat are also sold. I noticed the garlic was also moved to the counter and was given it after I asked for it.
She said that her child was already studying in college elsewhere, and she was planning to stop working after her child graduated. She was "too tired."
In the blink of an eye, it was more than ten years before I went back. The next day at noon, I went to Yanguan to eat some local noodles. The store is still there. I know it is still there, but the reputation seems to be a little worse.
It’s still the same place, with the same layout. Sister Yan San is not there when she walks in. There is a tired middle-aged man in front of the counter. If you look closely, it’s not Yan San’s husband.I ordered some noodles and sat down. It was just before the meal. The place on the first floor was not big. The guests shared the table casually. The uncle sitting next to me was a regular guest. Northerners are straightforward and talkative. They know everything they want to say. I didn’t wait for the noodles to be served. We all know roughly that Sanjie Yan's son returned to his hometown after graduating from college, and a female classmate from out of town also followed him back wholeheartedly. Sanjie arranged for them to get married and have children.
The local economy was in recession, and the young couple did not find high jobs, so they simply stayed at home. When the third sister saw that there was no solution to the situation, she asked her son and daughter-in-law to come to the store to learn the craft, and prepared to help them get on the horse and give them a ride, leaving the future to them. , but never thought that my daughter-in-law would take her parents back from her hometown, and simply occupy the magpie's nest. The man on the counter now is my father-in-law. Moreover, young people don't seem to be able to endure hardships, and they can't bear the loneliness of sticking to a small restaurant. They don't come often, and their father-in-law is almost the one running it.
I didn’t dare to ask where the third sister was now.
Before he finished speaking, the noodles were served. You could tell by looking at the thickness and length of the noodles that they were not hand-cut. When you put your chopsticks into your mouth, you could only find that they were salty and spicy. The thick machine noodles were neither chewy nor tasty. I felt uncomfortable for a moment. As I swallowed, I felt that my presence here was a misunderstanding.
People who are nostalgic are like this. They hold a piece of dead grass in their hands and refuse to let go, always thinking that it can bring back the spring of decades ago.
Several years have passed in the blink of an eye. While writing this article, I have been thinking, if I go back next time, will I still go to the Salt Museum? Yes, just walk by its door and take a long look.
If it still exists, will it still exist?
