It's true the natives don't have enough sugar to can hawthorns, so the sour ones just rot on the trees. But we have infinitely replicable kitchens, so we can have as much sugar as we want. The ingredients are free, and shipping costs are also calculated based on spatial grain settlement, so the cost is essentially zero. And the village supply and marketing cooperatives and the county department store have long been selling jams and canned fruit. Why did Professor Dong smile so hard at the sight of hawthorns? It's the golden key to unlocking sales in the provincial department stores.
The women were all happy when they saw Professor Dong smiling. They were happy because the more work they did, the more work points they could earn, and more work points meant more food. They were not afraid of being busy; the busier the better!
The four steps of picking, cleaning, removing the cores and drying are all done by the women in the village. The pickling process is performed by several "technical" personnel in the village and is a high-level job.
These technicians, with an average age of over fifty, are renowned in the village for their skills. What's their reputation? It's their hands. They make sauces that don't stink, pickles that are delicious, and even make fillings for buns and dumplings that taste different. It's all a matter of technique. Using the same ingredients and the same process, some old ladies can make miso that smells like stinky feet. Others can make it delicious, and you never tire of it.
Several groups were divided into three shifts every day. The production team provided three meals a day, and all the staff on duty ate here, racing against time to pickle the wild fruits and mountain sorrel.
The finished products are canned and sealed, then placed in a backpack for transportation (into the space).
Jiang Huashu followed He and took the train to the provincial capital. At the exit, he saw his elder brother Jiang Shaoming who came to pick them up. There was a young man with him, who should be his elder brother's driver. The young man diligently stepped forward and took several packages from Jiang Huashu's hand.
Jiang Shaoming exchanged a few words with them and then led them out of the station and got into a green jeep and left.
Even during those special times, the provincial capital was much larger than the county town, and the streets were no longer simply gray, black, and white. One could tell from their clothing that the atmosphere was much more open than in the countryside. Children, wearing pretty hairpins and dresses, sat on bicycles, accompanied by their parents.
Looking at both sides of the road, the First Grocery Store and the Second Grocery Store are right next to the Friendship Department Store. The doorman of the Miramar Hotel opposite is currently greeting two foreign guests who have just gotten off a car.
Next to the Miramar Hotel is the all-green post office. Back then, the post office served as a crucial hub for communication, express delivery, and money transfers. Whether writing letters, getting a delivery, or sending money, you had to go to the post office. If someone in your family worked at the post office, it was a source of pride—a secure job!
The street is wide enough for about three cars to pass through, and the buses are the new Coaster buses that were replaced this year, which were imported from Eastern Europe.
Not far from the bustling commercial street, we arrived at Jiang Shaoming's residence, an old-style courtyard house. It wasn't very large, and although the house was old, it was well-maintained, clean and tidy, giving it a pure military style.
There was a plate of sliced watermelon on the coffee table next to the sofa. Watermelon was not easy to buy at that time and was only available on the black market. Jiang Huashu knew at a glance that it was his own product.
After getting some water and washing up quickly, it was almost 11 o'clock and Jiang Shaoming wanted to take them out for dinner.
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