Chapter 7 007 Claypot Rice

Yang Hong stared intently at the casserole dish in Wen's mother's hand.

This is it.

That must be it.

The aroma was so enticing that it made Yang Hong stumble, and her mind and stomach both began to rumble with hunger.

Following the order, Wen's mother placed the third claypot rice in front of Yang Hong and explained, "We don't have many claypots in the shop, so this one was transferred from a large claypot to a small pot."

She said this according to Wen Fan's instructions. When she thought about how she had been lured into the kitchen by the aroma, her daughter told her that she hadn't made it very well this time because the shop had a limited supply of tableware and they had only just announced that they needed to sell three portions, so they had to make two batches at the last minute.

Wen Fan: "The rice crust might not be crispy enough."

Yang Hong only had eyes for the golden claypot rice; she wouldn't listen to Wen's mother at all.

Her patience was completely taken away by this pot of rice!

Pour in the sauce for the rice, stir it with a spoon, and take a big bite. The oily rice, combined with the salty, sweet and savory flavor of the sausage, and the subtle aroma of soy sauce, made Yang Hong eat without even looking up.

Looking at the other two customers in the restaurant who also ordered claypot rice, they were also eating in silence, just like everyone else.

One customer swallowed hard and asked Mrs. Wen if they could order another claypot rice.

Mrs. Wen said apologetically, "I'm sorry, we don't have any left in the store."

My daughter bought the sausages herself; she only bought three and managed to make six servings of rice.

"Is there any left tonight?"

Wen Fan lifted the curtain at the back of the kitchen: "We'll have pork ribs rice for dinner tonight."

"I'll order one!"

"...Then I'll order two portions in advance too."

"Old Wen, I'm ordering two portions. I'll have one of my shop assistants come pick them up tonight."

...

Instead of immediately agreeing, Wen's mother pulled her daughter aside.

"Why did you agree to that in the first place? How can you possibly manage all that work!"

Wen's mother still hadn't changed her mindset; she still felt that studying was the most important thing.

“Even if you don’t go to tutoring classes, you should still take advantage of this summer vacation to study hard. Your dad and I will take care of things at the shop!”

Wen Fan hugged his mother's arm: "It's okay, claypot rice isn't that complicated to make."

"That won't do either!"

Wen's mother said with concern, "It's so hot in the kitchen, and there's not even an air conditioner. You're so busy every day, you'll wear yourself out!"

Before Wen Fan could say anything more, his mother had already made up her mind.

“You’re kind enough to help us, but your dad and I don’t have the guts to let you go through all that trouble. Don’t worry about the shop. Go home and read some books this afternoon.”

The mother and daughter were speaking quite loudly; at least Yang Hong, who was closest to the counter, could hear them.

Yang Hong originally wanted to tell Wen's mother that she had ordered four portions. She planned to find a delivery service to send them to her mahjong table so that her mahjong friends who had laughed at her for not having eaten well yesterday could see what a good mahjong meal was like.

But upon hearing this, Yang Hong realized that she seemed to have misunderstood something important.

It turns out that the fried rice wasn't made by Mr. Wen!

No wonder, no wonder the fried rice at noon was so different from the one in the morning.

When Yang Hong heard Wen's mother say that the kitchen didn't have air conditioning and that her daughter shouldn't cook anymore, she immediately became anxious.

"Hey, it's just an air conditioner, right? I'll install one for you!"

Yang Hong forced a smile, her attitude more amiable than ever before in her life.

"Young lady, you should have said so earlier! It's really hot in the kitchen, and I understand your concern for the kids. How about this? I'll pay for one for our kitchen. Don't worry, you definitely won't have to pay for it!"

She owns multiple properties and is familiar with those who buy and sell secondhand furniture, so getting an air conditioner from each of them is no trouble at all.

Wen's mother was completely bewildered; what was going on here?

"Sister Yang, that's not what I meant..."

She didn't expect the landlord to provide an air conditioner.

Yang Hong: "It's settled then, sister. It's a good thing that the child wants to help you. Xiao Fan, right? She seems like a quiet and filial girl! Don't worry, just tell Auntie if you have any requests. Auntie likes kids like you..."

Wen's mother was dumbfounded, but Wen Fan secretly smiled.

In the kitchen, Wen's father used a rice scoop to pry up the rice crust, not bothering to use chopsticks, and picked up a piece of rice crust with rice in it and chewed it.

The golden and crispy rice crust made a crisp sound as soon as you bit into it, and the aroma of caramelized rice filled the air. The thin layer of oil at the bottom of the pan was just right, making the rice crust crispy but not greasy. The sauce, which Wen Fan had adjusted several times, seeped into the bottom of the rice, giving the rice grains that stuck to the rice crust a salty, savory and slightly sweet flavor.

This taste brought a sense of pride mixed with frustration for Mr. Wen.

He was proud of his daughter's exceptional talent, but frustrated because he felt that despite years of studying cooking, he couldn't even match the quality of a bowl of claypot rice made by his daughter.

Wen Fan entered the kitchen with light steps and immediately noticed his father's disappointment.

"Dad, can you help me this afternoon?"

Wen Fan is not the type to do everything herself, especially since she used to work in the Imperial Kitchen. If she did everything herself, she would never be able to hold onto her position as the head of the Imperial Kitchen, even if she worked herself to death.

Therefore, it is very important to know people well and assign them to suitable positions.

Wen Fan had tasted his father's cooking and his opinion of him was not bad.

Wen's father's knife skills were good, but his seasoning was lacking, and his control of the heat was even worse. Considering the way Wen's father had learned his craft, Wen Fan understood.

The old craftsmen are like this no matter which dynasty or era.

Teach the recipe but not the braising liquid; teaching the braising liquid will kill the chef.

White-cooked food chefs possess the "soul of noodles," while red-cooked food chefs possess the "golden touch."

The method is passed on, but the quantity is not; the quantity is passed on, but the fire is not.

...

Wen's father's knife skills were honed through daily practice, but without someone to teach him sincerely, he would never find the secrets to seasoning and controlling the heat, and would only be able to work in small restaurants.

Wen Fan: "Pork rib rice is easy to make, but I don't have much strength, so I can't make too much."

The original owner's body was vastly different from her former physical abilities. Wen Fan used to be able to easily lift half a pig and dissect it single-handedly like a skilled butcher, but now she couldn't do that. The original owner was someone who would be out of breath and feel dizzy after running 600 meters in PE class; Wen Fan could only slowly rebuild her physique.

Looking at his daughter's small frame, Wen's father suddenly felt a surge of courage in his chest: "Okay! You tell me, Dad will do it!"

****

Wen's father braved the scorching sun to go to the market and bought dozens of kilograms of pork ribs.

Wen Fan continued reciting his lessons in the shop as usual, while his mother borrowed a folding bed from someone's shop.

"If you're not going back, you can sleep in the shop for a while. I've already ordered a new one online, it'll arrive tomorrow."

In the past, neither of the couple would have been willing to buy a folding bed, but now that their daughter is a regular customer at the store, Mrs. Wen immediately placed an order.

Wen's mother continued nagging, "It's only like this during summer vacation. After school starts, you have to study hard. Your father and I don't expect you to make a lot of money in the future. We just want you to sit comfortably in an office, protected from the wind and rain..."

Wen Fan ignored her mother's words; she really didn't find cooking difficult at all.

She doesn't do everything herself! It was the same back in the palace; she talked more than she did. Except for some key sauces, sauces, and wines, she ordered others to do everything else.

Modern society is so convenient, there's no reason for her to be busier. Cooking in between reading sessions is more of a way for Wen Fan to relax.

Mr. Wen's skin was tanned red. He drank two glasses of water as soon as he entered the door, and then said with great interest, "We just happened to come across a new pork rib restaurant. Xiao Fan, why don't you come and take a look?"

Wen Fan leaned closer, not particularly satisfied.

Although the pork was fresh enough, it was still far inferior to the pork raised in the imperial farms.

However, she also knew that this was not because of Wen's father.

After all, it was a royal estate, supported by the hard-earned money of the people for the imperial family. Even the pigs there ate the finest grains, and they lived better than the people outside the city.

"Can."

Wen Fan put down his book and began to prepare the ribs.

She didn't talk much. All Wen's father could see was his daughter putting on this and that. When he asked her why she put them on, Wen Fan would just say, "They should be put on."

Father Wen:...

My daughter seems like a different person when she's cooking; her eyes even look much sharper.

Wen Fan quickly marinated a batch of ribs and then gestured for his father to do the same.

"Just like you just now, marinate it."

Father Wen:...

He touched his face and felt his skin burning.

"Daughter, why don't you... do it again? Dad didn't see it clearly just now."

Wen Fan looked puzzled: "These are all very simple."

She chose to teach claypot rice because it's simple to make, eliminating the need for controlling the heat when stir-frying other dishes. You just need to marinate the meat and pay attention to the steps when cooking the rice.

Even this, Wen's father can't do it?

Wen Fan was worried, wondering if he should lower his father's evaluation.

Mr. Wen had already fainted from crying. His daughter looked at him with a suspicious expression, like the classic look of a genius looking at a fool.

"Daughter, slow down, Dad will go find a pen."

Mr. Wen found a notebook and pen used for accounting in the store and listened attentively this time.

Okay, Wen Fan pursed his lips and patiently explained it a second time.

"Do you understand now?"

Mr. Wen was somewhat dazed: "The amount of oil should be... just right, but how exactly should it be mixed?"

Wen Fan could barely contain his smile: "Just the right amount, enough to cover the seasonings."

Mr. Wen wanted to ask more, but looking at his daughter's expression, he didn't dare.

Wen Fan stepped aside: "Dad, you give it a try."

Wen's father was covered in sweat. He pasted the note he had written down to the side and followed the steps strictly.

Wen Fan:......

Too much salt!

"I told you, you can't skimp on this seasoning!"

"The oil temperature is not high enough!"

...

Wen Fan sat behind the counter, fuming.

Wen's mother found it amusing and came over to comfort her, saying, "Your dad just didn't realize it."

Wen Fan remained silent, wondering why his progress was so slow when he had finally prepared to properly teach someone!

You know, back when she was in the imperial kitchen, she already thought her apprentices were stupid enough, so how come her father was even worse than them!

Wen's mother opened a bottle of Coke for her daughter and then wiped her sweat: "What should we do? Your dad is just a little slow-witted. Why don't you ask him to help you?"

Wen Fan took a sip of cola from his mother's hand and sighed.

The sigh made Wen's mother want to laugh.

After finishing his cola, Wen Fan went to the kitchen to "torture" his father.

For the entire afternoon, Wen's father was stared at by his daughter's fierce eyes, and he looked all wrinkled and tired.

Fortunately, the pork rib rice was a great success. That night, not only did the pre-ordered portions receive rave reviews, but the restaurant's delivery platform also saw a surge in orders, with seven servings sold out for the first time ever!

A note from the author:

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