Chapter 14 I have many tricks up my sleeve: I have to do business with my own people.

Wang Xiao has absolutely no interest in shopping malls.

She loves money more than beauty.

Spending nine hours a day at the research institute is already enough to drive her crazy, so how could she waste her precious after-get off work time on things that have nothing to do with making money?

So as soon as she got off work, she rushed out of the research institute, only to see her father again.

Instead of making the most of his position as an eighth-grade fitter at the steel plant, Comrade Wang Tiejun has become a parent waiting for his child to get out of school.

The child who was picked up wasn't moved, but only said helplessly, "Dad, I really won't skip work and run away from home."

Wang Tiejun was slightly embarrassed, but he tried to save face: "What nonsense are you talking about? Your mom thinks you need to buy a couple of new clothes, so she wants me to pick you up and take you shopping."

Wang Xiao had no interest in parent-child activities, and besides, she didn't lack clothes.

Despite the Wang family elders' vehement opposition to her marrying Ruan Rui, they were still family, and they spared no expense in preparing new clothes for Wang Xiao. That entire trunk was filled with truly fine clothes, enough to last until next spring without any rush to buy new ones.

In this respect, the old saying "spoiling a child is like killing him" is truly true. Naïve and innocent children who haven't experienced the harsh realities of life, constantly indulged by their parents, will only become increasingly foolish and selfish.

Later, after the original owner got married, she used her family's money to enroll her stepdaughter in expensive tutoring classes, pay exorbitant school selection fees, buy high-end nutritional supplements for her mother-in-law, and have her undergo physical therapy every few days; she couldn't afford to have her own parents have surgery when they were sick, and could only rely on taking medicine to get through the illness, and eventually died penniless, so it's hard to say that they didn't bear some responsibility.

Tsk tsk, no comment.

She's only focused on making money right now.

"No need, I have enough clothes." Wang Xiao didn't even turn her head and strode forward. "I'm going to sell the chicken feet recipe."

Wang Tiejun quickly caught up with his daughter: "No, Dad will go with you. I know someone at the braised food shop."

Wang Xiao turned around and gave him a suspicious look.

Comrade Wang puffed out his chest and emphasized, "You've forgotten, Uncle Pang from the Dongzhimen braised food shop. When you were little, your dad used to take you there to buy braised food. He's the person in charge; he can make decisions."

Wang Xiao pondered that they were still in the senior worker stage, and the social status of an eighth-grade fitter was not low. She reluctantly nodded: "Okay, let's go home and get the chicken feet first."

Having connections makes things easier. After all, it's food. Even if someone in 1990 was the most honest and simple, they wouldn't dare to eat something given to them by someone else, in case it was poisoned.

Wang Tiejun then blamed himself: "It's all Dad's fault. I should have just brought it to you directly. Now I have to make my Xiaoxiao make another trip."

Wang Xiao shuddered; she was really not used to this kind of father-daughter relationship.

The main problem is that before she transmigrated into the book, her biological father never admitted his mistakes to her; it was always her fault. Even when his beloved son suffered from severe constipation and needed to be hospitalized, he could blame it on her, someone he hadn't seen in ages.

It's so awkward to see Old Man Wang acting so clingy and cuddly.

She quickly emphasized, "This is my problem, how can it be your fault, Dad? Okay, let's go home quickly."

Luckily, they were in a hurry to get to the braised food shop, otherwise Wang Xiao really wouldn't know how to get along with her doting father.

The father and daughter carried 10 lunchboxes of chicken feet straight to the Dongzhimen braised food shop. Wang Xiao met the "fat uncle" that Wang Tiejun had mentioned and seriously suspected that he actually meant Uncle Pang.

Because even though he sells braised food, he's really thin, skinny, and looks like a bag of beef jerky.

Uncle Pang was very considerate of his old friend, even taking out clean chopsticks and picking out a chicken foot from each lunchbox to taste. After eating, he gave it high praise: "Very good, these 10 kinds of chicken feet are all unique and very distinctive."

Before Wang Xiao could even proudly announce the price, he immediately poured cold water on him, saying he wouldn't buy a single formula.

Wang Tiejun got anxious. "Hey Pang, what do you mean? Are you playing me for a fool? What are you going to eat if you don't want to? You even ate 10 chicken feet in a row!"

They were deliberately trying to embarrass him in front of his daughter!

Uncle Pang quickly emphasized, "This isn't an occupational hazard of mine; I have to try everything new. Um, it's not that I don't want to support you, it's just that you've come at the wrong time. Look, tomorrow is the beginning of winter, and it's already frosty outside. Forget about adding new items, our braised food shop doesn't have much business right now."

Wang Xiao glanced at the hanging roast duck and the rock-hard pig's head and ears, and could understand. With the weather getting colder, braised dishes were indeed hard to sell. The grease would solidify, significantly reducing the texture of the braised dishes. At this time, everyone was off work, preparing dinner, and there were hardly any customers; business was definitely slow.

Wang Xiao wondered, "Does the cold weather mean people stop eating braised dishes? Eating braised dishes is partly a treat and partly for convenience. Does cooking just become easier when it's cold?"

If customers don't like cold braised dishes, just serve hot braised dishes.

It's a state-owned store, not their own business, after all. They're not worried about how bad their business is. It's truly suffocating to watch.

Wang Xiao's eyes darted around, and she took the initiative to ask, "Uncle Pang, does the success or failure of your store's business affect your income?"

She explained, "If it has an impact, then I probably have a way to make the braised food sell better. If it doesn't have an impact, then forget about it."

Uncle Pang chuckled, "What can you do? Your chicken feet are no good, the weather's not right."

“It’s not chicken feet.” Wang Xiao put away the lunchbox. “I have other braised dish recipes that I can sell to the shop; they’re guaranteed to be popular. And those unsold roast ducks are fine too; I have a way to deal with them, and they’ll taste delicious. I’m afraid I don’t have time today; I don’t have the ingredients or tools. Tomorrow, I’ll get them for you. Hey, uncle, what time do you get off work?”

Upon hearing that she would be off work at seven o'clock, she immediately made a decision: "Uncle, can you give me a roast duck first?"

Uncle Pang couldn't stand it anymore.

Actually, the chicken feet in those 10 lunchboxes really amazed him.

He had been selling braised food his whole life and considered himself at least a semi-expert, but he had never seen chicken feet prepared like this before.

It's not that today's master chefs lack innovation, but rather that chickens were primarily raised for egg production in previous decades. Hens were known as the "housewife's backside bank."

However, as anyone who has seen it knows, the feet of laying hens are small and have thin skin, making them unsuitable even for making fried bones. For thousands of years, they have only been used as scraps for soup.

It wasn't until the mid-1970s that a restaurant owner from Hong Kong went to the United States for research and unexpectedly discovered that the chicken feet of American broiler chickens were huge, fat, and incredibly cheap. He had a sudden inspiration to make use of them and created innovative dishes such as steamed chicken feet, white cloud chicken feet, and crystal chicken feet.

However, by the time the breed of chickens was introduced to mainland China, the history of large-scale broiler chicken farming was less than 10 years.

Under this premise, chicken feet are still considered a by-product in the market. The only braised chicken feet dishes that can be sold separately are tiger-skin chicken feet and steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce, both of which are Cantonese dishes. A couple of years ago, he read in the newspaper that Hong Kong needed a large number of chicken feet and called on meat processing plants and canneries to develop chicken feet processing technology so that they could be exported and generate foreign exchange.

He never expected that the chicken feet would be handled by that young girl in such a way, and that the result would be quite delicious.

Seriously, if she had come six months earlier, no, even three months earlier, he would have definitely tried to persuade the food company (the braised food shop was its subsidiary) to pay for the secret recipe for chicken feet.

His braised dishes, which even a gourmand would approve of, are sure to be popular.

Wang Xiao said he believed she could come up with new dishes; someone who could bring scraps to the table must have the knowledge to do so. University students are university students; they have access to so much diverse and abundant knowledge—anything is possible.

However, he had his doubts about further processing the roast duck.

Ducks are different from geese. If you reheat a cold salted goose, it's not a big problem, at most the meat will become mushy and the texture will be worse. But ducks have a natural gamey smell, really. If you buy a cold roast duck and then cook it at home, the gamey smell will significantly affect the taste.

He emphasized, "Don't tell me it's braised duck with cabbage, that won't do. We sell braised dishes, not restaurants."

Wang Xiao laughed: "Don't worry, it's definitely not just plain cabbage cooked. I guarantee the finished product will be just as good as chicken feet. Uncle, just wait and see, I'll have my dad bring it over tomorrow, and you'll know whether it's good or not after you taste it."

Uncle Pang couldn't wait any longer: "What do you mean tomorrow? I'll go with you tonight. You can finish this so your dad and I can have a drink tonight."

However, Wang Xiao looked troubled: "I'm not free tonight, I have to go sell the chicken feet recipe."

Uncle Pang frowned: "Young lady, listen to my advice. You really won't be able to sell this now, it's getting cold."

“I’m not selling to braised food shops.” Wang Xiao felt there was no need to hide this from anyone. “I plan to sell to restaurants. They need cold dishes for banquets, and my chicken feet are the best cold dishes.”

Uncle Pang was taken aback at first, then laughed and gave Wang Tiejun a thumbs up, praising him: "Your daughter is indeed a college student, she's very clever."

In the south, where there's no central heating, people aren't as interested in braised dishes in winter. Restaurants are different; big restaurants can't maintain a comfortable, spring-like atmosphere year-round. Even ordinary restaurants without central heating are cozy inside and always have cold dishes available, so her chicken feet definitely have a market.

Uncle Pang untied his apron, took off his white hat, and instructed the shop's employees to continue to stay at their posts before leaving early: "Come on, I know this restaurant well, I'll take you there. Once we're done selling out, I'll have a taste of your cooking and see how you prepare roast duck."

Wang Tiejun was surprised: "Oh, you're familiar with the restaurant? Does that mean the Jinning Grand Hotel needs your braised food shop to supply them?"

Uncle Pang walked half a step ahead: "What's wrong? The restaurant has bought a lot of our braised dishes. Jinning Grand Restaurant makes its own braised dishes, but that didn't stop me from having connections. No matter how big the brand is, it's still under the jurisdiction of the food company. I'd rather be a big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big pond, and I'm too lazy to be in charge of the rules, otherwise I would have joined Jinning Grand Restaurant long ago."

To prove he wasn't exaggerating, his first stop was the Jinning Grand Hotel. Of course, it's quite possible that this was the closest grand hotel to them.

Uncle Pang, familiar with the place, led the Wang family to his acquaintance in the catering department, who also specialized in braised dishes. His salted goose was known as the best in Jinning, and foreign guests who tried it praised it highly.

Wang Xiao placed the lunchbox in front of the man, and Master Fang immediately picked up a piece with clean chopsticks and put it in his mouth to savor it.

After eating each flavor, he would rinse his mouth, drink a couple of sips of water, and then eat the next one.

However, after trying all the chicken feet, Chef Fang shook his head and said, "No, the chicken feet taste good, but they are not suitable for our Jinning Grand Hotel."

Uncle Pang didn't like hearing that.

"Wow, your restaurant is really high-class. You look down on street food, huh? I don't believe that if you can serve braised shredded tofu with shredded tofu, then chicken feet are beneath your refined taste?"

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Chef Fang said irritably. "It has nothing to do with chicken feet. We also make chicken feet with black bean sauce and tiger-skin chicken feet. The problem is the taste. This is a restaurant catering to foreign guests. Don't you even know what kind of cuisine the country serves? Huaiyang cuisine! Why? Because Huaiyang cuisine is light in flavor, and foreign guests can handle it. Can your chicken feet handle it? I can't even stand the spiciness myself. If foreign guests eat them, won't it cause an international dispute? Old Pang, there are no small matters in diplomacy!"

Uncle Pang hesitated, knowing that Master Fang was speaking seriously.

Foreigners really can't handle spicy food. Last time, their braised food shop tried to innovate and learned to make a Sichuan dish called "Husband and Wife Lung Slices". As a result, a foreigner came in, ate it, and was sent to the hospital. It scared them half to death.

He turned to Wang Xiao, looking troubled, and said, "Well, how about we go to another shop? Old Fang approves of your skills, so it must be pretty good."

Wang Xiao smiled slightly: "No need to change restaurants. I think the current Jinning Grand Hotel is perfect for serving my chicken feet."

Why? Because it's 1990 now, the aftermath of last year's turmoil hasn't subsided, and the international environment is extremely tense. Even the Asian Games, to be held in September, have faced considerable international calls for a boycott.

"Master Fang, how many foreign guests and how many domestic guests are currently spending money at Jinning Hotel? I think a hotel is ultimately a business, and it should cater to the consumption needs of whoever is paying for it."

Why are you still focusing on foreign guests? Let's take advantage of the reduced workload for foreign affairs and do our own business first.

It's getting cold, so eating something spicy is just the right way to warm up.