歌词
Verse 1:
In Sichuan’s heart, where the rivers flow,
A dish was born, so long ago.
Mapo Tofu, with a tale to tell,
Of spice and fire, it casts a spell.
A widow’s hands, with a loving touch,
Crafted the dish we love so much.
Ma for the pockmarks on her face,
Po for the old lady who set the pace.
Chorus:
Mapo Tofu, oh so hot,
With each bite, it hits the spot.
A taste of history in every bowl,
Sichuan’s fire, it warms the soul.
Verse 2:
In Chengdu’s streets, where the people meet,
She served the dish, a spicy treat.
The tofu soft, like clouds in the sky,
With minced pork, it reaches high.
The doubanjiang, red as flame,
Gives Mapo Tofu its fiery name.
Sichuan pepper, with a numbing bite,
Dances on the tongue, pure delight.
Chorus:
Mapo Tofu, oh so hot,
With each bite, it hits the spot.
A taste of history in every bowl,
Sichuan’s fire, it warms the soul.
Bridge:
The heat it builds, with each savory bite,
A symphony of flavors, pure and bright.
Garlic, ginger, and scallions too,
They join the dance, in the fiery brew.
Rice wine splashes, adding grace,
Balancing the heat, setting the pace.
Verse 3:
In the woks of Sichuan, the dish is made,
A legacy of flavor that will never fade.
Passed down through time, from hand to hand,
Mapo Tofu, a dish so grand.
It tells a story of spice and care,
Of a widow’s love, beyond compare.
Now shared in kitchens, near and far,
Mapo Tofu, a culinary star.
Chorus:
Mapo Tofu, oh so hot,
With each bite, it hits the spot.
A taste of history in every bowl,
Sichuan’s fire, it warms the soul.
Outro:
So when you taste that fiery spice,
Remember the story, rich and nice.
Mapo Tofu, a dish so bold,
With history and flavor, both untold.
In every bite, the past comes through,
A spicy tale, just for you.
