Chapter 5: Doing Business Requires Strategy: The Secret Recipe of a Century-Old Shop in the Provincial Capital

The next morning, when Wang Xiao got up, his uncle and aunt had already gone out to work.

The two sisters hurriedly finished their breakfast, not even bothering to wash the dishes, and then rode their uncle's bicycle to town to buy tofu. They were afraid that if they were late, all the tofu would be sold out.

Sitting in the back seat of the car, Chen Jingjing asked curiously, "Sister, aren't you a cadre? Why are you doing business?"

In 1990, there were quite a few self-employed individuals on the streets. But those were things people who couldn't find formal employment did; it was actually very rare for someone like Wang Xiao, a college graduate and former cadre, to go into business.

Wang Xiao laughed and said, "Anyway, I'm just idling around, so I might as well find something to do."

Chen Jingjing asked curiously, "Don't you go to work? You'll be fired if you're receiving a salary without working."

Wang Xiao chuckled, not worried at all: "It's okay, I'm on vacation."

She trusted Uncle Wang and Aunt Chen's abilities; since they dared to send her to the countryside to avoid trouble, they must have made all the necessary arrangements.

The two sisters rode all the way to the entrance of the market before getting off and pushing their bicycles inside.

Goodness, there are so many people at the market! Everyone is carrying a heavy bamboo basket on their arm, and several of them have tofu in their baskets.

The two sisters didn't dare delay and quickly ran to the tofu stall. Even so, when they arrived, there was only half a block of tofu left on the cutting board.

Wang Xiao immediately offered to buy it all.

Instead of beaming with joy, the stall owner glared at him and refused, saying, "If I give you everything, what will the others eat? No, I can only give you half at most."

Someone nearby chimed in, "That's right, which family doesn't host banquets and parties?"

Wang Xiao had no choice but to pinch her nose and say, "Half it is then. Do you have any green beans? I'll wrap half too."

The answer is no.

People in Zhouzhen only fry tofu during the Lunar New Year. The tofu stalls sell nothing but tofu, spiced dried tofu, and stinky tofu.

Wang Xiao took out five yuan to buy the remaining half of the tofu, intending to fry it himself when he got home.

Seeing the two women standing there empty-handed, staring blankly as they waited for the tofu, the stall owner was speechless: "You two didn't even bring a pot, how are you going to carry 10 pounds of tofu?"

Wang Xiao felt wronged. Why not just put 10 jin of tofu in a bag? But looking at the white, trembling tofu, she wisely shut her mouth. If she really put 10 jin of tofu in a plastic bag, it would be crushed and ruined before she even got back to her uncle's house or left the market.

Finally, the stall owner had no choice but to ask the two women for their family members' names, and then took out his own aluminum pot, filled it with tofu, and told them to take it away: "Hurry up and return it, I still need this pot."

"Definitely, definitely," Wang Xiao readily agreed.

She also needs to buy seasonings. Spices are key to making good braised tofu.

Unfortunately, she overestimated the purchasing power of the people of Zhouzhen. The market didn't sell bay leaves or cinnamon; it only had star anise and dried chili peppers. The people of Zhouzhen didn't need so many fancy ingredients for cooking.

Wang Xiao had no choice but to give up on the vegetarian braised tofu and instead went to the butcher stall to get a large bone that had been cleaned of meat. He used it to make broth for the braised tofu, hoping it would at least enhance the flavor.

Then her eyes fell on the chicken feet at the stall next to her, and an idea popped into her head. She used the remaining money in her pocket to buy all the chicken feet. The prices here are so strange; chicken feet are supposed to be a meat dish, yet they cost the same as tofu.

Chen Jingjing asked in confusion, "Sister, aren't you going to sell braised tofu? Why do you need so many chicken feet?"

If it were just for their own consumption, they couldn't possibly eat this much. It's quite hot during the day now, and they don't have a refrigerator, so the chicken feet won't keep for long.

Wang Xiao proudly waved the bag in his hand: "Just you wait."

This is one of her little secrets: braising chicken feet and dried tofu together creates a unique flavor that's absolutely perfect with rice.

Back in Qianjia Village, the sun had already risen high, and the dew in the yard had long since dried. The two of them quickly spread out the rice piled in the center of the cement yard to dry, then hurriedly washed the pots and pans. Then came the main event of the day: frying tofu.

To be honest, being busy in front of the boiler doesn't fit Wang Xiao's image as a rich, beautiful, and entrepreneurial woman before she transmigrated into the book. But that's because of the three-year pandemic. Forget about small tasks like frying tofu; she's even mastered the hardcore skill of making tofu curdling.

The local rapeseed is grown here, and we use rapeseed oil, which isn't really suitable for frying tofu. But since resources are limited now, even without fish or shrimp, the fried tofu can be drained in a bamboo basket for a while, and the final braised tofu will taste pretty good.

However, looking at the large basket of fried tofu, Chen Jingjing subconsciously swallowed and asked cautiously, "Sister, are you going to braise all of these?"

Can we sell them? There are so many, almost 10 pounds of chicken feet too. Luckily we have two stoves and two pots, otherwise we probably wouldn't be able to fit them all.

Wang Xiao was also startled by the amount of braised tofu in the basket. She used to make braised tofu for a single person, and never realized that 10 jin (5 kg) of tofu could yield so much fried tofu.

But, since it's already been fried, are we really going to leave it overnight?

"It's alright." She maintained her calm and collected demeanor, like a big sister. "The market is already there, the consumers are fixed, and we can fill the gap."

Seeing her cousin blinking and looking confused, she kindly translated it into Chinese again: "The old man who sells braised dried tofu can sell a whole bucket of it every day. We're just getting by."

"But we've never sold braised tofu before. People don't know us, so will they buy it?"

"Yes," Wang Xiao said confidently. "Consumer habits have already been cultivated. Even without A, consumers will not give up consuming; instead, they will directly choose the alternative B."

"What about chicken feet? Nobody sells braised chicken feet. The braised food shops only have tiger skin chicken feet. I don't think they taste very good, and it seems like not many people eat them."

"It's alright," Wang Xiao encouraged herself and her cousin. "We're very busy right now, and everyone wants to eat something good. We'll deliver to their door, and people will buy it."

What constitutes "good"? The standards vary depending on the consumer group. For example, during the busy farming season in the village, braised chicken feet with a strong, oily, and dark flavor that quickly replenishes lost salt, and which are so delicious that even the bone marrow can be bitten into, are a popular and satisfying accompaniment to rice.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the stove was officially lit. An hour and a half later, before the pot lid was even opened, the rich aroma of braising filled the entire kitchen.

As soon as the pot lid was lifted, good heavens, Chen Jingjing couldn't help but drool instantly.

"Come on, have a taste."

Wang Xiao picked up a braised chicken foot and held it to Chen Jingjing's lips. Chen Jingjing quickly tasted it and was immediately opened up to a whole new world. Good heavens, she had eaten chicken feet before, like stewed chicken feet with soybeans, which her mother occasionally made, but the taste was nowhere near as good as this.

How can chicken feet be so fragrant, so fresh, so spicy? Sizzling and sizzling, they taste so good!

Even though she had already eaten one chicken foot and her tongue and entire mouth were full, she still couldn't resist wanting to eat a second one.

Ah, it would definitely taste even better with rice.

Wang Xiao raised her eyebrows smugly. Wow, it seems she's still got it. Even though she hadn't cooked for more than half a year before transmigrating into the book, her dishes were still top-notch.

She called to her cousin, "Come on, let's take advantage of the fact that people haven't finished cooking dinner yet and push the cart out to sell early."

Two large pots of braised food require a bicycle. Otherwise, neither of them could carry the load.

That's good too. They can buy a stainless steel pot and then come back to fill another stainless steel pot. Otherwise, their braised dishes would have a meaty smell, and once they cooled down, the lard would easily turn white, and the taste wouldn't be right.

The two sisters started by selling their wares in the village, pushing their bicycles. Chen Jingjing, feeling shy, quietly pushed her bike, completely unlike her sister's bolder approach, who would shout at the top of her lungs, "Selling braised tofu—fragrant braised tofu—"

Chen Jingjing found it strange that her cousin didn't mention braised chicken feet at all. According to her, although the braised dried tofu from the same pot tasted alright, it was definitely a step down from braised chicken feet.

Before she could even ask, a child excitedly rushed over, turned around and shouted towards the house behind, "Grandma, there's braised dried tofu! I want to eat braised dried tofu!"

The old woman, who had returned early to prepare a feast for the workers, muttered, "Didn't we say we weren't coming to sell today? Oh—Jingjing, what's going on?"

Chen Jingjing's face flushed red instantly, and Wang Xiao single-handedly saved the day: "Grandma, try our braised tofu. It's the recipe from a century-old shop in the provincial capital, the taste is absolutely amazing. We also have braised chicken feet, and people line up to buy them in the provincial capital."

Chen Jingjing was stunned. A recipe from a century-old shop? Her aunt was the factory doctor at the steel plant, and her uncle was an eighth-grade fitter at the same plant—both were capable people, but neither of them had ever worked at a braised food shop. Where did her sister get the recipe from?

Wang Xiao, without blushing or panting, said, "Grandma, this is truly the craftsmanship of a century-old shop. If it weren't for the fact that the master chef of the shop retired and often asks my mom for acupuncture, and he felt bad about telling my mom that I like their braised food, you simply can't find this taste anywhere else."

Chen Jingjing suddenly realized. Her mother was right. In the future, she must go to university in the city, just like her aunt and cousin. Only by going to a place with ability can she meet more capable people and live a capable life.

Look at her cousin, she even got her hands on the secret recipe of a century-old shop.

Ahem, in fact, before Wang Xiao transmigrated into the book, he could easily find a lot of these unique recipes online; they were just modified through experimentation.

The so-called secrets of a century-old shop are obviously just a way to build a brand and fool people.

She couldn't compare to Grandpa Dougan, who had been in business for decades and had long since established his brand and cultivated a group of loyal customers.

If she wants to sell braised food, she must maximize her advantages to gain consumers' trust.

What are her strengths?

Undergraduate? No!

Although college students in 1990 were highly valued and fully deserving of the title of "the chosen ones," their college status offered no advantage in selling braised food. On the contrary, college students were often perceived as someone who never lifted a finger in the kitchen, and it was considered normal for them to use salt instead of sugar when cooking.

Her biggest advantage at this moment is that she comes from the provincial capital, which gives her an inherent aura of prestige. Just as Shanghai goods signify high-end products in this era, century-old shops in the provincial capital are a naturally gleaming brand.

Believe it or not, human instinct is to move upwards.

Back when Wang Xiao was selling goods via live streaming, there were two sweet potato crispy snacks that were exactly the same in terms of origin and processing, produced entirely from the same production line. Neither of them had a significant brand recognition, but because the former was labeled as an agricultural college snack, even though it was 10% more expensive than the latter, its sales were several times higher.

Now, standing in front of the elderly woman from the countryside, she believed that the old woman would definitely be interested in the craftsmanship of the century-old shop in the provincial capital.