Autumn's gift of happiness has arrived; please accept this beauty

Dear O-Ji (Hakka for uncle) and Auntie Xuemei:

Today, while I was cooking radish soup, a fine drizzle began to fall from the gray, hazy sky over the city, bringing the first hint of coolness after the start of autumn. The radishes packed in the burlap sack still looked dusty and unkempt, so I took them to the tap and slowly rubbed them clean, bit by bit restoring their cute, plump white faces; then I peeled off the skins, rolled them into irregular chunks with a rolling cut, piled them into a little mountain on the cutting board, and got ready to stew them with a pot of hot pork rib soup.

The gurgling bubbling in the pot and the patter of rain outside the window wove together into an autumn afternoon kitchen etude. It was hard to imagine that just a few days earlier, Meinong had still been as hot as the summer solstice.

"When are you coming back to pull radishes?" you asked warmly over the phone, your voices full of laughter, and you did not forget to remind me, "Invite friends and family to come along; the more people, the livelier." So I set off with Mom and Dad.

Unlike before, when I would roar all the way from Kaohsiung to Meinong on a scooter for events, this first time riding in Dad's air-conditioned car had the fresh feeling of a whole-family outing. After running wild outside for so many years, I finally had the chance to lead them back along a map of good food in memory, letting crisp radish cakes and fragrant stir-fried flat rice noodles satisfy our taste buds and stomachs, while icy shaved ice melted away the last trace of the blazing sun; and even more delightful than the food was being able to share with my family Meinong's fertile soil and warm human kindness.

Seeing you in work clothes and bamboo hats, welcoming us at the field's edge with two scarecrows "taller than Wang Chien-ming," Xiaoliang and I could not help shouting, "O-Ji, Auntie, we missed you so much!" It turns out missing someone can be so impatient. Your reassuring smiles and greetings dissolved the awkwardness of a first meeting, and you were soon chatting casually with Mom and Dad. O-Ji even praised Dad, who is ten years older, saying he "looks very young," and he was so pleased he could not close his mouth; he would probably pull quite a few extra radishes in a bit.

Auntie led us down into the field like someone who knew the way by heart, and there among the green waves were several name tags belonging to subscription holders, no doubt the result of you "working until midnight" past your bedtime. Before bending down, you first explained the radishes' growth process over the past few weeks: turning the soil, sowing seeds, and also praying for dry weather and no rain. "Radishes fear water the most. A while ago, a friend was halfway through growing them when the heavens sent rain, and in the end they all died, so they had to start over." Then you told us the secret for judging whether a radish was mature: "The ones that poke their heads out can be pulled."

It was that simple. One by one, the white jade radishes hid crisscrossed in the soil, each with a big emerald-green hat on top, so shy that only a little of their heads showed, and with hardly any effort and no need for advanced skill, we could pull them out of the soft earth to see the world.

With their uneven sizes, every one that came out of the soil drew exclamations or praise from us. "Some radishes grow joined together like conjoined twins because the soil where they were planted was harder, so they had to grow extra branches to help the main root; only by the two working together could they 'emerge from the soil'!" Auntie described each child's personality and appearance like a loving mother, some obedient, some mischievous, some tall and thin, some short and round, and just as every mother hopes without discrimination, may they all grow up healthy.

Everyone divided the work: pulling radishes, trimming radish leaves, and bagging them. In a little over an hour we had accumulated several burlap sacks' worth of harvest. We never stopped bending and standing, but the excitement of pulling radishes for the first time kept me from feeling the hardship.

"Take a break and come have a snack," Auntie called everyone over by the field ridge. The radish cake and sweet red bean soup that appeared as if from nowhere were incredibly tempting after the work. "I got up a little after four in the morning to make the radish cake, but it turned out we had just run out of fried shallots at home and the store was not open yet, so this time I only added minced meat. It is not made very well!" Auntie said apologetically, but at the same time we proved by our actions that the chewy, pan-fried-to-crisp radish cake and the sweet soup simmered with winter melon sugar, red beans, and dried longan were absolutely delicious!

In the fading, not-yet-dark light, you taught us "city slickers" like teachers how to recognize the red beans and sweet potatoes recently planted around the field ridge, while I kept foolishly failing to tell the difference between their leaves, and Mom and Dad, who had never done farm work, also studied with great interest. "After we finish harvesting the radishes next week, we are going to rework the land and plant corn. We can harvest it before the Lunar New Year next year!" Each cycle of endless life lets us make an appointment for the next season's winter harvest.

Is work life, and life work? You have a long and deep affection for the land. You often go to the fields in the dark, waking together with the earth amid the dawn light, and with constant patience and perseverance turn over each day's sweat. You are willing to wait through the years for ripening and look forward to results, hoping heaven will grant a plentiful year; and you are even more willing, after labor, to lead us into the fields, letting those of us with little farming experience feel the preciousness of life and the joy of harvest. Although it is not easy to simply move elsewhere and overturn reality, and hard to erase the life paths carved by urban and rural characteristics, in just such a short afternoon, after some chatting and laughter, we seemed to gain a little more sympathetic understanding of another way of life, and more than that, humble respect.

The gentle simmer on the gas stove filled the house with aroma. The rain seemed to have stopped. Scooping up a bowl of steaming hot radish and pork rib soup, a few wisps of pork bone oil floated on the clear surface, entwining the semi-translucent white jade waiting to be tasted: the already tender radish was denser and firmer than ordinary varieties, and still gave off a fresh sweetness in the rich broth. Although the climate of global warming is moody and unpredictable, with this warmth that travels from the tip of the nose, to the tongue, and down into the heart, I received with gratitude, truly and exactly, the autumn gift of happiness punctually bestowed by you and by nature.

Wishing you a fine, cool autumn

Respectfully, Cailing

Auntie Xuemei's oral [Secret Guide to Delicious White Jade Radishes], revealed:

Secret Weapon 1: Braised Pork with Radish
When the braised pork is almost done, cut the radish into chunks (bite-sized) and add them to cook through and absorb the flavor (the radish does not have to be peeled).

Secret Weapon 2: Pickled Radish
Wash 10 jin of radishes and cut them into small pieces (bite-sized), add 10 liang of salt and pickle for two days, then take them out and put them into a mesh bag (one that lets water seep through is fine), then press with a 4.5 jin weight (such as a stone), add 25 liang of white sugar, 200cc of rice wine, and 200cc of Gong Yan vinegar, and soak for several days until flavorful before eating (you can add chili or bean paste to taste).

Secret Weapon 3: Radish Cake
Shred 4 jin of radish and simmer until tender (for vegetarian seasoning, add only salt and pepper). Mix 1 jin of rice flour and half a jin of cornstarch with 1700cc of water, pour the simmered shredded radish into the flour batter while hot and stir into a slightly pasty texture, then pour it into a container and steam for 30 minutes (the radish cake is even more fragrant after pan-frying).

Secret Weapon 4: Cold Tossed Radish
First cut the radish into thin slices, or cut (shred) it into strips, add salt to draw out the water, pour the water off, then add seasoning (sugar, vinegar, sesame oil, cilantro) and it is ready (even more refreshing after chilling).