In a fit of anger, Sha Zhu simply gave up his seat: "You come here, I want to see how you do this."
The fat man ignored him and found a scallion, putting one on the end of the intestine: "Every large intestine end has to be connected with a scallion. The scallion aroma comes from the inside out. Not only can the flavor permeate, but it will also look better when it's cooked. Don't you understand?"
Sha Zhu was somewhat annoyed. He Daqing had mentioned it to him years ago. However, restaurants usually skipped this step to save trouble, and he had forgotten about it over the years.
Fatty watched Sha Zhu make this dish, and everything else was fine. Even the plating was done the same way as Fengzeyuan, with green vegetable leaves at the bottom, a ring of green vegetables in the middle, and hawthorns of the same color on both sides for color matching.
However, the Beijing-style approach inevitably has some bitterness in it.
The bitterness isn't anything else; it's the burnt taste from caramelizing sugar, which is still unavoidable now. But later, when commercially available caramel was made, technology was added to it. Using that stuff for coloring not only resulted in a bright color but also eliminated the bitterness.
Sha Zhu's words clearly had an element of showing off: "How's my Nine-Turned Intestines, Fatty Thief?"
The fat man tasted some of the broth: "The sweetness and bitterness are too prominent, and the flavor isn't very complex. Also, the Sichuan peppercorn oil you fried isn't very good either."
Sha Zhu was speechless after being told that. He was very unwilling, but he couldn't bring himself to get angry.
Well, the fat guy beat him in terms of professional skills. What do chefs rely on to prove themselves? Their skills. If the fat guy's skills are better than yours, you have to admit defeat!
People keep talking about Sichuan peppercorn oil, but what exactly is it?
To put it simply, it's just oil made by frying peanut oil, sesame oil, scallions, ginger, and Sichuan peppercorns.
There has always been a tradition of using peanut oil in Beijing, but it is very difficult to obtain.
In the first seven or eight years after the fat man transmigrated, he had to buy cooking oil according to his official household registration, and each person was issued one oil coupon per month.
What kind of oil did people buy back then? Most of them used soybean oil and cottonseed oil, also known as "hygienic oil"; peanut oil was only available in small quantities during the Spring Festival and National Day holidays.
In addition, there are holiday subsidies for oil coupons during the Spring Festival, which can be used to buy sesame oil. I've already mentioned this before, so I won't go into details again.
Because peanut oil is scarce, it has to be used sparingly. Unlike Fatty, who has Stardew Valley producing oil for him, Sha Zhu's Sichuan peppercorn oil isn't fragrant enough, and it just doesn't quite taste right when poured over the large intestine.
Today's dish, Nine-Turned Intestines, was made with guidance from Fatty. What's that called? It's called "a teacher of a dish."
Sometimes you make a special trip to visit a master chef, bringing gifts and showering them with compliments, but they'll only offer you guidance on one dish at most.
So Sha Zhu adopted a very humble attitude today: "I've learned a lot, I owe you another favor."
This scene was like something out of a ghost story to Xiao Dang. She grabbed a radish and yelled at Sha Zhu, "You're not my stupid dad! Who are you? Tell me, where did you hide my stupid dad?!"
The reason we're making such a big fuss today is because there's one more important person celebrating the Spring Festival with them.
Inside the room, Yu Wanlin sat on a soft sofa, surrounded by women on both sides, who treated her like a star surrounded by the moon.
Yu Li sat to her left, and Chen Mengqi to her right. Yu Wanlin doted on this granddaughter; her sweet words had almost completely charmed her.
Yu Li's aunt arrived at noon on the 28th of the twelfth lunar month. Fatty led Ben Lei Hu and Yu Qian to the train station to pick her up.
The three men were strong and sturdy, and they squeezed and bumped their way into the platform without much effort.
Don't think this is an exaggeration. Since 1954, the Ministry of Railways has kept records of the Spring Festival travel rush: during the 15 days before and after the Spring Festival, the average daily passenger flow was 730,000, and the peak passenger flow was 900,000.
In 1976, newspapers also published two photos of passengers queuing in the square of Shanghai Railway Station during the Spring Festival to enter the station, and people scrambling to squeeze onto the train on the platform.
Young men even climbed through car windows to get on the bus!
During this year's Spring Festival, temporary service windows have been added at Beijing railway stations to expedite the processing of transit visas.
The term "Spring Festival passenger transport work" appeared for the first time in the daily newspaper, and the term "Spring Festival travel rush" officially debuted.
Because my home is far away, I have to go home for the Chinese New Year no matter how hard it is.
When Fatty and his team picked up Yu Wanlin, she was already covered in sweat, even in the dead of winter, with sweat streaming down her neck.
Still shaken, she said to the fat man, "Why are there so many people? I almost didn't get off the bus."
Yu Wanlin brought a lot of things this time, some for Fatty and his wife, and more for Yu Qian.
Yu Qian was quite embarrassed: "Mom, I've already told you that I'm eating and living well at my cousin-in-law's place and I don't need anything. Why did you bring so many things from all this way?"
"..."
Fatty wanted to treat his aunt to a meal at a restaurant, but Yu Wanlin firmly refused. Why spend money outside when everything is fine? She had cornbread and eggs in her bag; she could just have a hot drink when she got home.
The fat man subtly kicked Yu Qian, who immediately understood and protested loudly, "Mom! You've eaten, but the three of us haven't eaten yet! Oh, please come with us!"
Yu Wanlin sighed, "This kid starts using 'you' and 'your' in his speech all the time, it's not quite right for me; Chen Kang, you've really caused trouble for you and Yu Li."
The fat man quickly said, "You wouldn't dare say that. My cousin is very capable; he's my right-hand man now."
Fatty wasn't just making empty promises. Ever since the "Red Star Five Tigers" disbanded, he'd been short-handed. Yu Qian was reliable and eager to learn, so Fatty trusted him and naturally wanted to cultivate him.
But when Yu Wanlin heard these words, she thought it was because the fat man was being nice to her.
And so, Yu Wanlin was still dragged to the restaurant by them.
Where to go? Menkuang Hutong. Fatty ordered braised pork offal, fried sausage, fried dough sticks... He wanted to order more, but Yu Wanlin stopped him, whispering, "Don't you want more?"
The fat man deliberately sighed, and Yu Wanlin gently tapped him on the forehead: "What kind of crazy idea are you thinking of now?"
The fat man pointed to the big iron pot by the door: "Back when Yu Li and I first went on a blind date, we also had braised pork offal for lunch. I suggested we go to Donglaishun, and she said the same thing to me. But seriously? A plate of mutton costs two yuan, how many bowls of braised pork offal could you eat with that?"
Life is gradually getting better, and even the price of braised pork offal has gone up.
Back in 1965, when Fatty and Yu Li ate there, it only cost 12 cents a bowl, plus 2 liang of grain coupons; now, even if you just add a baked bun, it costs 12 cents, plus another 2 liang of grain coupons!
The price of braised pork offal had risen to one yuan a bowl, and the fried sausage was only five mao (0.5 yuan), which made Yu Wanlin feel extremely distressed...
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com