【Winter Bowls】Warm Pot of Huozifan at Night

冷风一起，山西人家的傍晚就飘起了一股朴素的香气。那不是张扬的荤腥，也不是刺激的辛辣，而是小米、土豆、豆角、南瓜在铁锅里咕嘟出的温热气息——这便是山西人冬夜里最踏实的慰藉，和子饭。

When the cold wind rises, a simple, comforting aroma begins to drift through Shanxi homes in the evening. It’s not the bold scent of meat, nor the sharp sting of spice, but the gentle warmth of millet, potatoes, green beans, and pumpkin simmering together in an iron pot—this is Huozifan, the most reliable comfort on a Shanxi winter night.

和子饭，重在一个“和”字。一把金黄的小米，几块敦实的土豆，随手摘的豆角，切几刀南瓜，有什么便放什么。都是黄土高原上最寻常的物产，却在一锅清水中慢慢熬煮出浑然一体的温和。待米将熟、菜已软时，再下一把手擀的面条，白生生的面条在稠粥里翻滚片刻，便吸饱了汤汁的鲜甜。

The essence of Huozifan lies in the word “Huo”—harmony. A handful of golden millet, a few sturdy chunks of potato, whatever green beans are on hand, a few cubes of pumpkin—whatever is available goes in. These are the most common yields of the Loess Plateau, yet slowly simmered in a pot of clear water, they meld into a unified, mild wholesomeness. When the grains are nearly cooked and the vegetables tender, a bundle of hand-rolled noodles is added. The pale noodles tumble in the thick porridge for just a moment, soaking up the savory sweetness of the broth.

真正的魂儿，在最后一勺油烹的麻麻花里。铁勺在灶火上烧热，倒油，炸一把葱花或麻麻花，“刺啦”一声激出焦香，趁热往锅里一浇，迅速盖上锅盖。待再揭开时，米香、面香、菜蔬的清甜，和那股直冲鼻尖的油烹葱香，早已交融得难分彼此。热腾腾盛一碗，米烂面软，瓜菜酥糯，汤稠而润。不用什么珍稀调料，只一点盐、醋和花椒，便是最妥帖的咸鲜。

The true soul of the dish, however, lies in the final spoonful of oil-sizzled “mamahua”. An iron spoon is heated over the stove fire, oil is poured in, and a handful of chopped scallions or “mamahua” (wild chive flowers) is fried until fragrant with a loud “sizzle.” This is then poured piping hot into the pot, and the lid is quickly closed. When lifted again, the aroma of grains, noodles, the fresh sweetness of vegetables, and that sharp, oil-fried scallion fragrance have already blended indistinguishably. Served steaming in a bowl, the grains are soft, the noodles tender, the pumpkin and vegetables melt-in-your-mouth, the broth thick and smooth. No rare seasonings are needed—just a bit of salt, vinegar, and pepper bring out the most fitting savory freshness.

吃和子饭，须配些实在的搭头。冬天早晨，就着刚出笼的热红薯，或新玉米面蒸的窝头，夹一筷子老咸菜丝，或自家腌的辣芥菜，一口稠饭，一口粗粮，咸香提神，暖意从喉咙一路熨到胃里。夜里归家，若有一碗温在灶上的和子饭下肚，浑身的寒气便似乎都被那朴素的温热化开了，心神也跟着踏实下来。

To eat Huozifan, it should be paired with something substantial. On a winter morning, alongside a freshly steamed sweet potato or a cornmeal steamed bun, with old salted vegetable shreds or homemade pickled mustard greens, each mouthful of thick porridge and coarse grain is savory, refreshing, and spreads warmth from the throat all the way to the stomach. Returning home at night, if a bowl of Huozifan kept warm on the stove is waiting, the chill of the day seems to melt away in that simple warmth, and the mind settles into peace.

这饭没有名字上的花哨，也无做法上的玄妙，却藏着山西人家过日子的智慧：不浪费一点土地的生养，不辜负一季冬藏的丰足，将最平常的食材，和和气气地熬成一锅温饱、安宁与满足。

This dish carries no fancy name nor mysterious technique, yet it holds the wisdom of how Shanxi families live: never wasting what the land provides, never taking for granted the abundance of winter stores, harmoniously simmering the most ordinary ingredients into a pot of nourishment, comfort, and contentment.

寒冬漫漫，灯火可亲。一锅和子饭在灶上咕嘟着，蒸汽模糊了窗上的霜花。一碗一碗盛出来的，不只是饭，是土地无声的馈赠，是屋檐下守候的暖意，是山西人心里那口吹不凉、熄不灭的烟火气。

The winter cold is long, but the lamplight is welcoming. A pot of Huozifan bubbles on the stove, steam blurring the frost patterns on the window. What is ladled out bowl by bowl is not just food—it is the land’s quiet offering, the warmth waiting under the eaves, the hearth-fire in Shanxi people’s hearts that no wind can chill nor extinguish.

（图源网络侵删）

(The image source is from the internet. If infringement, it will be deleted.)

来源：中华网综合整理

Source: Comprehensive collation by sx.china.com