Regarding the "taro capital"
(Baonghean.vn) During this time, most visitors from the lowlands who come to Ky Son, a mountainous border district, buy some taro to eat or give as gifts. This is because it is currently the peak harvest season, and taro is at its tastiest and most starchy.
Along National Highway 7A, which runs through Muong Xen town, this mountain-grown taro is widely sold at prices around 10,000 VND/kg. If you have the chance to travel along the roads leading to the villages, you will often see Mong and Khmu ethnic women carrying heavy baskets of taro from their fields back home or selling them in the Muong Xen area.
In Ky Son, taro is grown primarily in the communes of Huoi Tu, Muong Long, Dooc May, Na Ngoi, and Tay Son. These are high mountainous areas, home to the Mong ethnic minority. This indicates that taro plants here thrive at high altitudes, in cool climates, and of course, in suitable soil conditions. At the end of the year, despite the biting cold, we were determined to ride our motorbikes up about 15km of mountain passes to Tay Son commune, one of the "capitals" of taro cultivation in Ky Son. Along the way, we had to navigate through thick fog, with mountain peaks and valleys covered in white clouds. It suddenly occurred to me, perhaps the taro plants here also prefer to be nurtured by the mist and clouds?
The joy of a bountiful taro harvest for the people of Huoi Giang 1 village.
Tay Son commune (Ky Son district)
It was almost noon, and the Tây Sơn mountains and forests were still shrouded in a white mist. When we inquired about the cultivation, harvesting, and consumption of taro, we listened to Mr. Vừ Chống Dì, the Party Secretary of the commune, explain about this plant: “Here, most families grow taro for food, mainly for self-sufficiency. This plant is very finicky; you have to choose good land to grow it. Often, you have to clear old forest areas or cover the land with straw or green manure to let it decompose before planting. That way, the taro tubers will be large and starchy, and taste good. If you use fertilizer, whether manure or chemical fertilizer, the tubers might be large, but when you eat them, you'll only find fiber and very little starch. That would be a waste of eight months of cultivation, care, and harvesting.” It suddenly occurred to me, this plant is really strange. Why does it lose its natural characteristics immediately after receiving nutrients from manure and chemical fertilizers, while most other agricultural crops yield high productivity?
Perhaps for generations, taro plants have been intimately connected to the ancient forests, the soil, and the air, so they don't need any other source of nutrients? Then, I suddenly thought of the simple, honest, and straightforward nature of the people who spend their lives in the mountains, valleys, and misty landscapes. When we asked about the total area of taro cultivation in the entire commune, Mr. Vu Chong Di said: “To be honest, it’s impossible to give an exact figure, because every household grows it – some grow a little, some grow a lot, some grow nearby, some grow far away. All I know is that all six villages grow taro, with Huoi Giang 1 and Lu Thanh villages having the most.”
Guided by an office staff member, we traversed several forests and climbed several slopes to reach a taro field belonging to a family in Huoi Giang 1 village. The owner of the field was Ms. Mua Y Xia, whose hands, typical of the Hmong woman, were nimbly using a hoe to uproot each taro plant, then picking up the plump, round tubers and putting them into a basket. This taro field, about 500 square meters, was located in a corner of a vast rice field that had already been harvested, now only covered with straw. Ms. Xia explained: "Our field is mainly used for growing rice. After each harvest, we usually gather the straw in one corner to wait for the next season to plant taro so it grows well. We mainly grow it for our family's needs; we don't have much to sell in Muong Xen."
Around midday, as the fog began to dissipate and the villagers returned from their fields, we visited the home of Mr. Vu Chong Thong, the head of Huoi Giang 1 village. Mr. Thong cheerfully welcomed us with a pot of freshly boiled taro, still warm to the touch, the steam rising carrying an alluring aroma to visitors from the lowlands. In the biting cold of the mountains, and having just completed a tiring journey, we felt warm and refreshed after eating the hot boiled taro, savoring the sweet and nutty taste of the grain starch blended with the earthy and forest scents, both near and far.
Mr. Thong said cheerfully, “When we were young, we saw taro roots in the corner of the house. Later, we asked our parents and grandparents, and they said the same thing. For generations, taro has always been closely associated with and present in the homes of the Hmong people. It is a staple food to supplement the rice supply when the rice in the house runs out. During the lean season, taro becomes the main food source for each family. In recent years, people have received relief rice from the government during the lean season, but no one has abandoned taro cultivation.” Hearing that guests from the lowlands had arrived, Mrs. Thong prepared taro soup to treat them. The taro roots were peeled, washed, and chopped, then cooked with Hmong mustard greens and a little pork bone. At this moment, while enjoying the boiled taro, the sense of smell and taste couldn't ignore the incredibly appealing aroma of the taro soup prepared by the hands of the Hmong woman. It had the earthy taste of taro, the richness of the meat, and the sweet and refreshing taste of the mustard greens. These flavors blend together to create the distinctive taste of taro soup.
After enjoying a bowl of taro and bone broth soup at Mr. Vu Chong Thong's house, we continued our journey to Lu Thanh village. The road from the commune center to Lu Thanh village is a bumpy dirt road winding along the hillsides, with a deep ravine below and towering mountain peaks above. Without experience riding motorbikes in the forest, no one can avoid feeling overwhelmed, or even hesitant to continue.
Visiting Mr. Mua Xai Co's house, we recounted our journey to the "taro capital." Mr. Co immediately said, "So, you've already eaten boiled taro and taro soup with bone broth; now I'll treat you to steamed taro." Then, Mua Xai Co told his wife to put aside the rice pounding and steam the taro for their guests. This Hmong woman went to a corner of the house, selected small taro tubers, washed them, put them in a steamer, and placed it over a simmering fire. The steamer used in the highlands is made from a hollowed-out tree trunk. Seeing the guests intently observing the wooden steamer, Mr. Co explained, "To preserve the flavor of the sticky rice and taro, people up here always use wooden steamers, never aluminum ones like in the lowlands."
After chatting for a while, a fragrant aroma wafted from the steamer on the stove. Mrs. Co lifted the steamer off the stove and spread the taro into a large basket. Mr. Co then said, "Let's begin. Steamed taro is best eaten hot." Holding a freshly steamed taro, they savored it and peeled it. The aroma and taste were basically the same as when boiled. However, after tasting it, diners could easily tell that the steamed taro was chewier and retained its aroma longer.
The sun was about to set behind the mountains in front of Lu Thanh village. We said goodbye to our hosts and prepared to leave. Mr. Mua Xai Co gently said, "It's almost dark, you can't go home now. The fog has covered all the roads, it's very dangerous. Let's stay here tonight. We'll make fried taro tonight." Since the host had said so, we couldn't refuse. A little later, the host and his wife selected some large taro roots, washed and peeled them, then sliced them thinly. A large pan with plenty of oil was placed on the stove. When the oil was hot, Mrs. Co put the sliced taro pieces into the pan and diligently waited, flipping each piece one by one. A rich, savory aroma wafted from the stove. The meal was served; besides the other dishes, there was a large plate of crispy fried taro. Mua Xai Co took out a bottle of wine and said, "This kind of thing is best enjoyed with wine." Indeed, enjoying wine with crispy fried taro on a frosty winter night in the highlands of the border region is unparalleled, as the fat from the taro and lard, combined with the warmth of the rice wine, dispels the biting cold. Mr. Co added, "This dish is quite popular among the Hmong people in winter because it helps retain body heat." The meal lasted until late at night, when both host and guest were tipsy from the wine.
The next morning, despite the lingering fog, we decided to descend the mountain to Muong Xen. There, we met Mr. Moong Van Nghe (74 years old, of the Khmu ethnic group), former Deputy Head of the Provincial Ethnic Minority and Mountainous Areas Committee. Upon learning that we had just come from the "taro capital" and had sampled various taro preparation methods, Mr. Moong Van Nghe said, "For a long time, taro has also been used as an important medicinal ingredient in traditional Eastern medicine." Half-believing, half-doubting, we searched online and indeed found several documents confirming that taro can help treat conditions such as stomach pain, spleen weakness, physical weakness, kidney inflammation, dysentery, and joint pain. Then, I suddenly wondered if the people in this high-altitude border region have such robust health and strong legs to climb mountains and cross streams partly because they have spent their lives cultivating taro, a staple food that is also a valuable medicinal herb?
In a conversation with Mr. Le Cong Tam, Head of the Agriculture Department of Ky Son district, we learned that the entire district planted 80-90 hectares of taro this year, with a total yield of approximately 800-900 tons. Taro has been grown in Ky Son for a long time, and was recently exhibited in Hanoi, attracting much attention. To date, it is still maintained on a small scale, being one of the significant sources of income for local people in recent years. However, the district has no plan to expand the planting area because the taro variety is relatively "fussy," and expanding the area would affect forest resources.
Cong Kien
