In recent years, Chinese toon has gradually become popular in Southern California. When our group of morning exercisers meet in the glow of dawn, we like to talk about its supposed benefits and exchange ways of eating it.
Once, as soon as Miss Liu arrived, she carried a large bundle of Chinese toon branches—leaves, stems, and all—from her car and placed them on the picnic table. Everyone began dividing them up. Naturally, anyone who had diabetes, or had someone with diabetes at home, took a little more.
How should it be eaten? Xiao Li said that the older leaves could be boiled in water—twenty-five leaves each time, one serving a day—and that this was good for diabetes.
Reports said that among vegetables, Chinese toon had especially strong anticancer effects, was rich in nutrition, and had high medicinal value. Its vitamin C had antioxidant effects, and its vitamin E and other minerals were said to be higher than in other vegetables. All this only increased its attraction. Many people came to our morning exercise group to ask about it. Those who had never eaten it wanted to taste some if possible; those with diabetes wanted seedlings to take home and plant.
There is a Chinese toon tree in our backyard that is already five years old. Every year it sends out young shoots, and I often pick them and give them to friends from our morning group. Each spring, after enduring the cold, the tree produces crimson new buds. The slender leaves have a slight sheen and give off a faint fragrance. I pick the young shoots and stir-fry them with eggs. Delicious.
After the tender shoot at the end of a branch is pinched off, new shoots grow from the sides a few days later, more and more of them.
In the past two years, salted Chinese toon has been shipped from northern mainland China. I bought some and tried it. It was too salty, not very suitable for old people like us who are supposed to eat less oil and salt, and the flavor was much inferior to fresh toon.
Later, I realized that if I ate only the young shoots, throwing away all the older leaves was a pity. Boiling them in water was troublesome, so I tried a new way of eating them.
I picked some older leaves, washed them, and dried them in the sun. When the leaves were dry enough to crumble at the lightest touch, I rubbed away the stems, put the leaves into a plastic bag, and worked them back and forth with my hands until they became powder. I stored the powdered leaves in a bottle. Whenever I wanted some, I could shake a little into rice, mix it with noodles, or sprinkle it into salad. Convenient and tasty.
Prepared and stored this way, you can have Chinese toon every day and at every meal. Friends who are interested might give it a try.