After frying all the thick parts of the chicken, such as the legs and wings, Su Qingluan turned her attention to the chicken ribs, which were described as "tasteless to eat, but a pity to throw away."
In her previous life, Su Qingluan traveled extensively with her master, sampling delicious cuisine. During a winter trip to Northeast China, she savored a variety of Northeastern-style chicken ribs—known as "chicken racks" in the Northeast—whether smoked, grilled, or deep-fried, each offering its own distinct flavor.
The chicken ribs were different from the chicken wings and drumsticks. Su Qingluan did not coat them with a heavy layer of fried chicken flour, only a thin layer, so the flour did not form fish scales.
There is very little meat on the chicken ribs, only a thin layer, so the chicken ribs can be easily cooked by just stirring them a few times with a colander when put into the pot.
After Su Qingluan fried all the chicken once, she was not in a hurry to fry it again. She first put the chicken ribs back into the oil pan and fried them slowly at low temperature until the bones were crispy. Taking advantage of this gap, she chopped all the leftover vegetables from today's stall into small shreds and brought them to the yard along with the remaining pancake crust.
The two little guys saw their elder sister bringing out the plates, and they jumped over to help. But when they saw that there were only some leftover wraps and shredded vegetables, they looked at them eagerly, and their meaning was very clear: where is the chicken?
Su Qingluan was amused by the accusing looks from her brother and sister. "Each of you write another large character. Didn't you learn a new stroke order today? Once you're done, you can enjoy some delicious chicken!"
Su Xueyan nodded obediently and immediately turned around to go back into the house to write big characters. However, Su Xuanhe's eyes were rolling around.
Su Qingluan glanced at him and knew that this boy had no intention of completing the "homework" she assigned him, so she deliberately added: "If you don't complete it properly, and deliberately write in a particularly large stroke order on a piece of paper, it won't count."
The reason for this saying is that Su Qingluan once asked everyone to write two large characters. Since the two little ones were just starting to learn, they basically only used horizontal, vertical, left-falling and right-falling strokes, and they were not even complete large characters.
Su Xueyan wrote neatly, with each row and column written densely, while Su Xuanhe, in order to be lazy, deliberately wrote all the strokes very large, especially the "撇" (left stroke) and "捺" (right stroke), which were written diagonally and took up more space than strokes such as horizontal, vertical, and dot strokes.
So the boy simply wrote "head up to the sky, feet on the ground", and wrote twelve strokes on the whole paper. Su Qingluan was so angry when she saw it - should she say that at least this brat didn't just write one stroke and finish it?
Of course, the consequences of such laziness are dire.
Originally, Su Guangfu and Yang had a "hands-off" attitude towards whether their children could read or not - but that was under the premise of no cost.
Paper was not cheap in those days. Su Xuanhe only wrote a few words on a piece of paper, leaving a large area of blank space. This serious wasteful habit was absolutely unforgivable in the minds of the couple who were always frugal.
Naturally, the consequence is a meal of "bamboo board stewed meat".
Now that Su Qingluan specifically said this, Su Xuanhe's eyes, which had been rolling around, immediately became dull. He pouted and muttered, "I know. I'll just write it well..."
Su Qingluan sneered: "With the time you've wasted on calculating, you've already written half a long article." After saying that, she patted her brother's head, turned around and went back to the kitchen.
Although the surface color of the chicken ribs in the pot did not change much, Su Qingluan knew that unlike the first time they were fried in oil for a short time to lock in the moisture, after a period of slow frying at low temperature, the bone marrow in the middle of the chicken ribs had been cooked and the moisture had been fried out.
She took out the chicken ribs and placed them aside to drain the oil, then bent down and pushed the wind shield of the bellows upwards to allow more air to flow into the stove, and then licked back the two pieces of firewood that she had taken out earlier.
As Su Qingluan slowly pushed and pulled the bellows several times, the flame in the stove burned more vigorously. Su Qingluan stood up and kept testing the oil temperature by placing her palm in the air above the oil pan.
After a while, feeling that the temperature was about right, Su Qingluan first threw a piece of fried chicken powder that had been wet and tangled into a ball into the wok. Seeing that the flour ball soon "crackled" and rolled up golden fine foam, floating in the wok, Su Qingluan knew that the heat was right.
So she put the fried chicken and chicken ribs into the oil pan in batches according to different parts.
This time, the oil temperature is higher and the fire is stronger, so that a layer of browned crispy shell can form on the surface of the fried chicken, while the chicken ribs are fried until the whole bone is crispy.
Su Qingluan picked up a colander and quickly took out the fried chicken from the oil pan, then turned out the bamboo curtain that was previously woven for drying vegetables. Since the bamboo curtain had many gaps, the fried chicken was placed on top and the bottom was suspended in mid-air, so the excess oil could be drained out quickly.
Su Qingluan took out the chicken and pulled down the partition at the exit completely. Once the air was isolated, the fire in the furnace went out. In this way, Su Qingluan no longer had to worry about the oil temperature being too high and black smoke coming out.
The fried chicken just out of the pan was sizzling. If it was served like this, the two monkeys would be so anxious that the little one would burn his mouth.
Su Qingluan simply took advantage of a little free time to divide the chicken into three portions, then sprinkled the powder made from cumin and cornus officinalis evenly on one portion of the chicken, and then sprinkled the mixture of the two powders on the third portion.
After thinking for a moment, she turned around and looked on the cart outside where the things from the tortilla stall were kept - there was still some jam made from sour hook left, which she also put in a small bowl.
After finishing all this, Su Qingluan felt her saliva watering as she smelled the familiar yet long-missed aroma of fried chicken.
Just take a small bite...
Su Qingluan quietly defended herself in her heart - just try it out. I haven't made fried chicken in such a long time, and the ingredients are limited. What if it doesn't taste good?
After a period of self-hypnosis, Su Qingluan picked up a piece of chicken that was slightly larger than a mahjong piece and mixed with natural and dogwood powder, and quickly put it into her mouth.
In an instant, the spicy flavor of dogwood and the unique aroma of cumin instantly occupied the taste buds, followed by the crispy feeling of deep-fried food that "crackled" between the teeth.
Finally, there is the familiar smell of chicken mixed with a variety of spices!
Since the chicken had been marinated in the sauce, even though the outer shell of the chicken was fried to a crispy state, the chicken inside was still tender and juicy, and it was not dry or tough at all!
Su Qingluan ate so much that her cheeks were bulging, and she was almost crying: "Ah! This is the fried chicken I haven't tasted for a long time! Although the spiciness of dogwood is not as mellow and stimulating as chili peppers, she can close her eyes and imagine it as a five-spice salt and pepper flavor!
Most importantly, she can finally rediscover the joy of frying food again!
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