Fried dried sea rice with preserved Guangdong vegetables

The pack of Cantonese preserved vegetables in the refrigerator has been lying for three months. Just in the corner, squeezed between half-eaten cheese and expired mustard. Every time you open the door, it's there. Silence. accusations. As if to say, "You bought me, but you didn't dare to touch me." ”

This is the pain point. It's not that there is no time. It's not that there are no ingredients. It's the fear of "being afraid of messing up". Do you know that feeling? Looking at those strange shriveled ingredients, my mind was full of disaster movies. Black smoke. Siren. Neighbors knock on the door to complain. In the end, I could only order takeout and pretend that the preserved cabbage didn't exist.

But today is different. Today I am going to conquer it. Stir-fried sea rice with dried vegetables from Guangdong. Sounds premium, right? The taste of Lao Guang teahouse. Salty and fragrant. Crispy and tender. Soul blow.

The reason is simple. I swiped a video on TikTok last week. An old lady with hands as fast as a phantom. The preserved vegetables are put into the pot and sizzle. Sea rice turns red. That sound...... It's like setting off firecrackers in my ears. I can't stand it anymore. Must try. Even if it's just to shut up that preserved cabbage.

I put on my apron. Full of confidence. Even some jazz music was played. Everything was perfect. Until——

And so on. Haimi.

I grabbed a handful of dried sea rice. Throw directly into the pan. The oil is not heated through. I poured it in.

Nourishing ...... The voice is wrong. Not the cheerful pop. It's dull. Like a wet towel falling to the ground.

Then I remembered. Soaking. Soak! OMG. I actually forgot to soak my hair! Dried sea rice is as hard as pebbles. Now they are tumbling in the pan with a terrible click. It's like laughing at me.

Panic. Absolute panic. The jazz was still playing, but I could only hear my heartbeat. Bang. Bang. Bang.

What to do? Add water? Now adding water turns into boiling sea rice. Dump? No, that's money. That's dignity.

I grabbed my phone. Fingers are all oil. The screen won't slide away. Damn. Damn. Damn.

A loud truck horn suddenly came from outside the window. It startled me. The shovel in his hand almost flew out. The dog upstairs started barking. This is the rise and fall. My kitchen is like a zoo.

"Calm down." I said to myself. Although the voice is a little shaky.

A flash of inspiration. Not adding water. It's wine. Cooking wine. Or anything that contains alcohol. High temperature can force out the fishy smell, and it can also make the dry and hard sea rice quickly absorb and soften. I remember seeing it somewhere. Or is it a dream? Forget it. Take a gamble.

I grabbed the cheap bottle of Sherry. Don't ask why you have this at home, it's a leftover from the last party.

A large spoon. Two spoons. Drained directly.

Boom!

The flames rose. The blue flame licked the edge of the pot. Risky. Almost burned my eyebrows. But the scent came out. Instant. The burnt aroma mixed with the aroma of wine and the umami of sea rice pierced my olfactory defenses like a bullet.

Done?

Hurry up and order the preserved vegetables. Cut a little coarsely, it doesn't matter. Who still cares about knife skills at this time? Survival first.

Stir-fry. Crazy stir-frying. My arm is sore. Sweat flows into the eyes. Spicy. Salty. Incense.

At this time, I need to organize my thoughts. Because the brain has become a mess.

You see, there is order in chaos. Or is chaos itself part of order?

Anyway, this dish actually came to life.

There are two key points that I realized in the chaos:

• Don't trust your instincts, trust your nose. The eyes can deceive, but the nose won't. If it smells like burnt rubber, it's burnt. Don't hesitate to turn off the heat.
• Wine is the first aid kit in the kitchen. Whether it's red, white or sherry, alcohol always saves the day when things get out of hand. It can turn "mistakes" into "features".

The true meaning of cooking is not in the perfect reproduction, but in how beautifully you clean up the mess.

Last minute. Sprinkle some chopped green onions. Actually, there are no green onions at home, so I used some parsley. Don't tell your Cantonese friends. They will faint. But who cares? This is my fried sea rice with preserved vegetables. Parsley version.

Plate. The color is a little dark. The sea rice is red and black, and the preserved vegetables look like old antiques. But the taste is ......

I picked up a piece. Blow on it. Put it in my mouth.

Crispy. Salty. Fresh. There is also a little nutty aroma characteristic of sherry. Sea rice no longer resembles stones, they become chewy and become more fragrant the more you chew. The sweetness of the preserved vegetables is stimulated, neutralizing the saltiness.

OMG. Delicious.

It's really delicious.

I leaned on the flow table and breathed a sigh of relief. The jazz music just came to the end. The dog outside the window stopped barking. The world is quiet. Only the lingering fragrance in the mouth remains.

This experience made me realize that we are too afraid of making mistakes. The recipe says "soak for 20 minutes", and we feel that even one second less is not enough. But life is not a laboratory. Life is the afternoon when I forgot to soak sea rice, the life-saving bottle of sherry, and the stove that almost burned.

If you want to try this dish, or anything that scares you, listen to me:

Action suggestion:
Don't worry about accurate measurement. Go buy ingredients. Buy now. Then intentionally do something wrong. Forgot to cut garlic? Crush it directly and throw it in. Too much salt? Add a potato to absorb the flavor. See what happens. The worst result is just ordering a pizza. The best result? You may have invented a new dish.

By the way, FAQ time. Because I know what you're thinking.

Q: Can I really use parsley instead of green onions?
A: Yes, but the taste will be crooked. It's very crooked. Like a Guangdong uncle in a suit and tie, he suddenly danced a tap dance. Not traditional, but cool.

Q: What if the fire is too big?
A: Run. Just kidding. Cover the pot and cut off the oxygen. Or like me, pray your smoke alarm battery just died. (Mine seems to be out of power, thank goodness).

Q: How to store leftover preserved vegetables?
A: Sealed cans. Shaded place. Or keep leaving it in the refrigerator corner accusing you until the next time you have the courage to face it again.

I'm going to wash the dishes. Bowls piled up like mountains. And the oily phone screen.

And so on.

I seem to have forgotten to turn off the oven.

No, I didn't turn on the oven.

What does that taste like?

Oh. It's the barbecue next door.

Okay. I'm going to pour a glass of wine. Celebrate that I also have eyebrows.