Chapter 51: I wish our family’s life will get better and better
Seeing the downcast eyes, Sang Yu shook his head helplessly and said the good news: "Wait another quarter of an hour and you can eat."
As soon as these words were spoken, no one was sleepy anymore and they all stared at the pot.
The bubbling sound of the chicken soup in the clay pot, accompanied by the crackling sound of the firewood, really helps me sleep.
Even though everyone was fully prepared to drink the soup and eat the meat, they still closed their eyes unconsciously.
Sang Yu estimated that it was about time, so he opened the lid and a rich fragrance wafted towards him along with the rising white mist.
She couldn't help but sniff it a few more times, picked up the salt shaker beside her and added salt to it, then stirred it a few times to allow the salt and chicken soup to be fully mixed together.
After more than two hours of stewing, the pheasant skin turned golden yellow, and a layer of golden oil floated on the surface of the soup. Paired with white yam, it makes people's mouths water just by looking at it.
She turned around and was about to ask her family to bring her bowl of soup, but she saw that everyone had fallen asleep, some leaning against the wall, some leaning on others' shoulders, or supporting their chins with their hands.
"Really... everyone is so insufferable." Sang Yu sighed, completely forgetting that he almost fell asleep, and got up to wake everyone up one by one.
First, tear off some chicken skin, scoop a spoonful of yam, and finally fill a bowl with soup.
Everyone held their own bowl of chicken soup, and the palm of their hand could feel the temperature of the chicken soup in the bowl. It was a little hot, but they were reluctant to put it down.
Sang Yu finally finished her own bowl and looked up. Everyone was holding their bowls but not drinking. She asked in confusion, "Why aren't you drinking? Is it not tasty?"
That shouldn't be the case. She tasted a little before serving, and it tasted just like normal chicken soup. Although there were no seasonings like onions, ginger, and garlic, the pheasant itself was delicious enough.
"Come, Yu'er, let's eat together." It was Old Mrs. Shi who spoke.
It turned out that they were waiting for her. Sang Yu raised the bowl and saluted everyone from a distance: "Then I will use soup instead of wine, and wish our family's life will get better and better."
"Good, it's getting better and better!" everyone responded.
After toasting, Sang Yu didn't dare to drink the chicken soup like a hero, because it was just scooped out of the pot and was still hot.
She picked up the bowl and blew on it a few times, then leaned back to cool it down and took a small sip.
The first feeling you get when you take a sip of the chicken soup is delicious!
Pheasants are completely different from broiler chickens raised on modern assembly lines. Even the so-called free-range chickens in rural areas are only raised in an area of dozens or hundreds of square meters at most.
The pheasant's range of activity is much larger, and it is common for it to cross one or two hills when foraging.
This results in the pheasant meat being firm, and the soup stewed from it is jaw-droppingly delicious even without adding any external ingredients.
Sang Xingjia is not a person who likes to drink chicken soup very much. Even if it is a delicacy from land and sea, he will get tired of it if he eats too much.
Not to mention that Xie Qiujin always felt sorry for him because of his hard work in the academy. Every time she came home, she would ask someone to prepare a pot of old hen soup, which he had already had enough of.
But this time, maybe it was because he hadn't had it for a long time, or maybe it was because the pheasant soup was really delicious, but his eyes lit up as soon as he took a sip.
The chicken soup lingered on the tip of his tongue, and he was reluctant to swallow it.
The bowl of chicken soup in his hand seemed to be something completely different from the ones he had tasted before. It was so fresh and fragrant that he wanted to swallow his tongue.
He drank it mouthful after mouthful, and when he came to his senses, there was only yam and chicken left in the bowl, and the chicken soup was already gone.
He felt a little lost and wanted to drink another bowl, no, ten bowls.
He didn't have high expectations for the chicken. The chicken used in stewing soup was mostly dry and tasteless, so he picked up a piece of yam with chopsticks first.
He had eaten the fried yam made by Sang Yu yesterday. The thinly sliced yam tasted crispy, but the yam in the bowl was in chunks.
When he put the yam into his mouth, his eyes brightened.
The taste is completely different from yesterday's slices. The yam cubes that were stewed in chicken soup for half an hour absorbed the soup and became soft and delicious.
The flavor of the yam itself blends perfectly with the chicken soup, and chewing it feels like chewing delicate pastries, glutinous but not dry.
When Sang Xingjia wanted to pick up another piece of food with his chopsticks, there was only chicken left in the bowl.
In order not to waste food, he stuffed a piece of chicken into his mouth.
With the delicious chicken soup and yam in front of him, he was mentally prepared to swallow it whole even if the chicken was tough and tasteless.
The chicken did look very dry. Even though the pheasants had gained a lot of fat in the autumn in preparation for the winter, there was not much fat under the skin.
Sang Xingjia chewed it twice, and his originally expressionless face instantly brightened up. This chicken, this chicken skin... are delicious!
The chicken skin is not greasy when chewed, and has a crispy texture. The chicken is not dry either, and the cooking time is just right. You can taste a hint of sweetness with every bite, which is the natural flavor of the chicken.
Before he knew it, he had finished the whole bowl of chicken soup. However, there was a hint of sadness on Sang Xingjia's face. After tasting such delicious chicken soup, he was afraid that he would never be able to drink any other chicken soup again.
The bowls in everyone's hands were emptied very quickly. After drinking, they sat there with blank eyes, not knowing what they were thinking about.
Sang Yu finished her bowl, stood up, walked to the pot and asked, "Does anyone else want some? There's still plenty left in the pot."
She added a lot of water, and added yam and chicken, so it was more than one bowl per person could finish.
Everyone came to their senses in an instant. "More? More to drink?"
"I want!"
After the second bowl of chicken soup, everyone finally smiled. Although we felt like we could have had a few more, our stomachs didn't feel empty at all; the yam still gave us a satisfying feeling.
Sang Xinghao held up the bowl and begged pitifully, "Sister, I want another bowl. It's so delicious."
Children don’t know what hunger and fullness are. If something tastes good, they will eat more. If it tastes bad, they won’t eat it. The chicken soup is so delicious that they still want to drink it.
There was still some left in the pot, but Sang Yu looked at his bulging belly that seemed about to burst, and could only refuse in a firm attitude.
"No, if you're too full, you'll have indigestion and won't be able to sleep. Let's drink it tomorrow morning. Chicken soup doesn't have legs and can't run."
"All right."
The others, eavesdropping with their ears perked up, didn't dare to say they wanted another bowl. It would be so embarrassing to be scolded by Sang Yu in public, saying they were not as sensible as a child.
After eating and drinking their fill, everyone could finally sleep peacefully. If they hadn't slept at this hour today, who knows how long they would sleep tomorrow.
The sun shone on Sang Yu's face through the hole in the roof. He was awakened by a considerable burning sensation, and when he opened his eyes he was greeted by the dazzling sunlight.
She raised her hands to cover her eyes and looked around. Everyone was still asleep.
She sat up in a daze. The sun could no longer shine on her, and it cast an irregular spot of light on the mat.
She scratched her head in confusion. Did the morning sun ever reach this place?
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