Foot kick surprised

Mr. D slowly tore off the wrapper package of baked rice paper (banh mi), then came back to give me and Mr. T each one a piece of cake. ‘Here, you and T have a taste. This brother’s rice paper produces deliciously underarms’.
I received the square industrial baked rice paper, carefully examined the cake before enjoying it. The cake surface is even, the yellow cake color does not have a “explosion” mark. The scent of cake soon filled the small space of the 7-seater car. The wheel is still rolling, the sides are green of rice. We are coming from the airport to a central district.

“Oh, really delicious”, Mr. T said, “this one of it is this. Selling price?”. “Very cheap. Not tens of thousands of a bag. This boy also came up from rice paper. Now it has been sold to several provinces. I take you to visit the factory later. See if there is any way for him to export or not.” Mr. D goes straight to the point. This trip was organized by him. The only purpose is just to ask Mr. T to find directions for some local businessmen. I still look out of the car window. And remember my maternal hometown, also a locality in the Central region. Memories of my childhood are rushing back because of the green steps on the road passing through the small window. That day, every summer afternoon, at 3-4pm, an old lady comes in (alley, alley – as called in the Central region) her grandmother sells rice paper. Children dirty from playing soccer and shooting marbles gathered around her selling rice paper. Someone who has money then cheats on his pants and takes out an odd note that is wrapped very carefully. Those who do not have money stand waiting, waiting for him to break a piece of it. And my most impressive point of the foreign country rice paper is the bright red area located in the center of the cake. It is chili sauce. Each piece of cake sold, before handing over, was scooped up a little chili sauce by the old lady with a beautiful little spoon and sprinkled it in the middle. Sun cake, I used to think. It was like a crimson sun, with an open halo of gold. And the kids kept breaking each “piece of sun” and dot the little sun. They are so talented. After three years of age, he can already eat chili. I absolutely do not dare to touch that sun, although my grandmother’s rice and soup is always spicy, as if I train me to get used to it. The way of eating banh mi in the countryside is indeed unique. It is different from the way to eat banh mi in Hanoi, where I grew up. A small street corner, group a beautiful red charcoal oven, and then whoever comes to buy them, they fan the charcoal to bake. Childhood rice cake in Hanoi is purely vegetarian, is it not dipped with spices (or because I did not eat spices that day so I can’t remember)? And the piece of cake baked on charcoal it often has “bubbles” scattered on the cake. In that “explosive bubble” is the air. The little ones often like to play with that explosive foam before eating it. True discovery is an extremely curiosity. It’s just a bubble that explodes, just squeezed it yesterday, and knowing there’s nothing inside, still stimulates the next day to continue exploring in the hope that it will be different. Oh, if only I grew up, people loved each other that way, just discovering each other every day without being bored, the world would never have separated and depressed love songs. Later, growing up and traveling a lot, I began to understand that normal rice cake was just like that, but it turned out to be in many “magnificent” delicacies of Vietnamese cuisine. What are the mussel rice cakes, the sautéed sautéed with chili peppers, the broken rice bread in a bowl of Quang noodles, the rice cake with the classic sautéed shrimp in the West … If you have to vote for a snack best in the world, I do not hesitate to nominate Vietnamese banh mi. Hey, what if we go to a pub in the West and instead of eating their “snacks”, how about we use tabasco dumplings? “Hey, Mr. D, does he make some kind of uncooked rice paper for customers to microwave themselves. I tell the truth, this cake is delicious. I can recommend to Europe, I have some clues over there. But if you pay the cake (container), it will occupy the first area and easily break the cake, lose the aesthetics is Monday “, Mr. T said. Mr. D affirmed “It is not. Because baking in the microwave it will not be as beautiful as this industrial cake, and the cake will not be as flat as this. But I will say it try.” Saying to do, he picked up the phone and called the owner of the production facility, his voice loud and loud. The wheelchair moved onto a newly renovated inter-village asphalt road, then turned into a spacious, spacious house, crowded with people in and out. “Here, its workshop. The owner is on his way from his house”, Mr. D introduced. Soon, a new seven-seat Peugeot slowly entered the courtyard. From the car, the owner of the workshop, a big, strong, black body must be cheerfully down. His hand carried a … microwave oven. “Uncle D just arrived. Just stay at the factory. Because you said the microwave oven, I ran too blood to try it. It’s delicious. You can do it all,” said the owner of the workshop. Then turned to us cheerfully: “Hello, you two. Please come in and play, I can try it immediately”. Say and do. The owner of the workshop led us into the living room, looking for an electrical outlet to place the microwave in the middle of the table while the staff was making tea. Then his hand quickly opened the bag, took the cake, turned on the oven, baked. It is really beautiful. The cake is still flat, the yellow color is still, only different from the industrial baked goods in one point is that the rim is slightly burnt brown. But I like that burnt brown color. It gives the feeling of a slice of cake that is baked with charcoal. Then the story revolves around production capacity, around the current distribution market, around the factory owner tinkering with how to make a rice cake dryer to avoid depending on the sun, rain and weather of drying methods. traditional cake. The talk lasted until they all got in the car, looking for a small riverside restaurant nearby for lunch. Also at the same lunch table, the story reached the “finale” of the intention to export the cake. “Now you can work directly with Mr. T. He promised to do it. He will help you export this cake to Europe”, Mr. D said, “if I have anything else to add, please report this S guy, It is the number one assistant, I do many things for me “. The factory owner’s eyes were filled with hope when he heard Mr. D say that sentence. And Mr. T was also open-minded, when he said that the factory owner should send samples directly to the city to quote prices. HCM for your office. The factory owner was happy to face. His face shone with pride mixed with a belief in something that could change his career. “Geez, that’s fine. If you help me, you can help the people in my commune too. They work for me if I can sell, they also add income. It’s also very tiring, bro. Please give me your address and office phone number “. Mr. T immediately read the address but after half a sentence, I saw him leaning under the table, as if he had dropped something to search. Coming back, he read the address again. But also with three words, he bent under the table again. For the third time, I found he seemed annoyed. Then he said quickly to the owner of the workshop, “Give me your phone number. I’ll text you later. Now have a drink.” On the taxi ride home from Tan Son Nhat, I kept silent, not daring to say anything. But the more silent I became uncomfortable. Remembering the boss’s overly enthusiastic, humble figure, I feel bad. And unable to bear that torment, I quietly asked “Will you help them?”. Being told as if opening his heart, Mr. T opened the phone and showed me the message. Then he said, the other three footsteps belonged to S. It was S himself who told Mr. T after that, when the group got back to the hotel, the idea was “let me worry, she wants you to help export, I have to ask for it. Color for you. There is no “how to”. “You are so mad Minh. You said that I helped people out of work and asked for money. Besides, I am not rich yet, but I want to do big things to do something about this three hundred million. Look at people being hot.” In this situation, I believe you can help people, they do not pay money for me Besides, even if you help me for free, I also help them. They are farmers like my parents. “Mr. T said. No wonder, I texted the owner of the factory the great news “Here is the address. You can contact me directly. I will help you with no penny. You rest assured. But S it says whatever you do, please don’t mind.” “. Turns out, Mr. T is much more awake than I thought. No wonder, on the way back, he definitely didn’t touch a piece of rice cake. Despite S bravely carried two barrels alone from the Central into the city. “If Mr. S brings the sample, I will say it was sent in outside the workshop. Let him understand”, said Mr. T while smiling, “It’s strange, you only like to eat people”. Rich – poor it has numbers. I can help anyone, just help me, right? What is shared with each other is extremely important. Like a piece of cake still shared childhood, there is no regret. People are better than each other in that “generous”, but where are “cunning” than each other in the “cunning” thing …