Not long ago I found myself in a city I'd visited only a handful of times. It's a bit far from where I live, so I never got to know it well. That Thursday at noon, Xiaona suggested that since neither of us knew the place, we might as well go to Wanda.
To me, Wanda is basically a supersized KFC or McDonald's—when you're in an unfamiliar city and have no idea where to eat or what to do, a mall is at least safe. We picked a Hunan restaurant, which felt timely; Hunan food has been having a moment these past couple of years. Xiaona went for bamboo shoots with cured pork and sour mustard fish in golden broth. I ordered two jars of corn and pork rib soup. Ever since that meal, that sweet fragrance has been circling in my head.
So when the weekend came, I tried making it myself: corn and pork rib soup.
One fresh, juicy ear of corn—vacuum-sealed sweet corn works too—cut into segments. One fresh carrot, peeled and cut into chunks. A dozen or so chestnuts; a pack of peeled chestnut meat usually holds close to twenty. And a few pieces of pork rib.
First, soak the ribs in salted water for about fifteen minutes to rinse off the first round of blood. Then put them in a pot with cold water, ginger powder, and a splash of cooking wine, and bring it to a boil. Skim off the foam and let it bubble for another two minutes. Rinse the ribs with warm water—never cold, or they'll turn unpleasantly tough.
Next, put all the ingredients into a pot of warm water, enough to cover them by a little, since this is a soup. Once it boils again, simmer for about fifty minutes.
After fifty minutes, open the lid and add a little salt, white pepper, and chicken bouillon. Cook for another five minutes to dissolve the seasoning, and it's ready. The flavor is light and sweet, with some oil but not much.
A bowl this size is more than enough for one meal.
I don't buy meat very often. Vegetables are easy—you count them by the head, the bunch, the carrot. Meat, though, is almost never sold by the piece; it's mostly by weight, and I've never been good with weights. I don't really have a feel for how much a pound actually is.
This time I bought it at the supermarket. A pack of ribs held about five large pieces, more than enough for me on my own. It's not that I'm worried about the cost. It's that whatever I can't finish goes into the freezer, and once it's frozen, I have no idea when I'll remember to use it again.
On this occasion, one ear of corn, a few chestnuts, and two pieces of rib were enough to fill me up. (I like carrots raw; cooked ones I can't quite get behind.)