Chapter 90 Fried Eggplant Cakes
The old man was truly remarkable; in just a few days, the abandoned, half-year-old unfinished building was brought back to life. Passing by early one morning, Su Yingxue saw the tower crane's long steel arm had already lifted the first steel beam, gleaming silver in the morning mist. The construction site was bustling with activity; machines roared, workers scurried about like ants, and the air was filled with the fresh smell of cement, mingled with the last vestiges of osmanthus fragrance in the autumn breeze.
The weather turned cool suddenly. After buying groceries in the evening, Su Yingxue was standing at the bus stop waiting for the bus, wearing a thick coat, when her stomach suddenly growled. She looked up and saw a long queue at the newly opened fried chicken shop by the roadside, and suddenly remembered her grandmother's fried eggplant cakes—the outer skin was so crispy it crumbled, and the inside was filled with tender meat filling; one bite was so fragrant that it would make your eyes squint.
Late at night, the warm light from the stall cast a long shadow of Su Yingxue on the grass behind it. She took out a piece of hind leg meat, the purplish-red lean meat studded with snowflake-like fat.
The cleaver tapped crisply on the cutting board, first slicing the meat diagonally into small pieces the size of pomegranate seeds, then repeatedly pounding it with the back of a meat cleaver. The minced meat gradually developed a pearly sheen, and she mixed in half a spoonful of scallion and ginger water, stirring clockwise until it became sticky, and finally sprinkled a pinch of freshly ground Sichuan peppercorn powder.
The eggplant on the cutting board was a glossy purple, and Su Yingxue's hand holding the knife was as steady as a rock. She cut the eggplant vertically into eight pieces, the tip of the knife tracing the boundary between the flesh and the skin, leaving a two-millimeter-thin emerald-colored outer layer.
Cut the scooped-out eggplant flesh into small cubes the size of mung beans and mix it back with the minced meat—this is a knife technique taught by my grandmother, which preserves the integrity of the eggplant skin while allowing you to taste the eggplant flavor in every bite.
In a glass bowl, snowflake powder and cornstarch were mixed in a 2:1 ratio, and a free-range egg was cracked in. Su Yingxue added chilled mineral water, and the mixture became a transparent, spiderweb-like consistency when stirred with chopsticks. She sprinkled in half a spoonful of dried shrimp powder to enhance the flavor.
When the rapeseed oil in the wok reached 60% of its maximum heat, Su Yingxue gently placed the first eggplant cake dough into it. The oil sizzled and rose half a foot high. She immediately used long chopsticks to gently stir it, making the eggplant cake rotate in the waves of oil.
When the pastry turns a beautiful golden brown, she quickly flips it over with a slotted spoon, and you can clearly hear the oil sizzling under the high temperature.
The real skill lies in the "nine turns"—making the eggplant cake rise and fall nine times in the oil. The first time it sets the shape, the second time it draws out the oil, the third time it layers the crust... until the ninth time it floats up, when fine air bubbles will appear on the surface of the eggplant cake.
Su Yingxue stared at the stopwatch and calculated the time. The oil temperature was consistently kept at around 180℃, a perfect figure that she had repeatedly tested with a thermometer.
When the last batch of eggplant cakes came out of the oven, she picked up a steaming one. The crisp crust crunched between her teeth like crushing autumn leaves. The meat filling inside was so tender that it hardly needed any chewing, mixed with the aroma of steaming eggplant.
The first bite reminds me of the fried food stall with its perpetually long queues outside the school gate on my way home from school when I was a child.
As Su Yingxue gazed at the last drop of golden oil in the pot, she suddenly felt that the early morning of late autumn had become exceptionally gentle because of this pot of crispy and fragrant oil.
"Boss, one eggplant pancake, please."
Su Yingxue looked up and saw a handsome young man standing in front of the stall. He was wearing a casual shirt with the collar slightly wrinkled, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well for a long time.
"Ten yuan," she replied, her hands moving swiftly as the golden, crispy eggplant cakes sizzled in the oil. "Scan the code yourself."
As Zhou You took out his phone to scan the QR code, he couldn't help but glance a few more times at this small stall that was still open late at night. Although the stall was small, it was clean and tidy, the stainless steel countertop was polished to a shine, and even the paper bags containing the eggplant cakes were printed with elegant patterns. What was even more remarkable was that, in this desolate place, the fried eggplant cakes smelled amazing.
Three days ago, Zhou You was a groom-to-be.
He works at the scenic area management office. Although it's just a small, 3A-level tourist attraction, it's close to home, so his mortgage payments are low. He and his girlfriend, Meimei, had planned to get married once the house was renovated. But who would have thought that the Zhang Group's unfinished building project would suddenly stop construction? His down payment was gone, and he still had to make mortgage payments every month.
He and Meimei had a huge fight about this last week. Meimei, with red eyes, said, "You can't even give me a place to live!" Then she slammed the door and left, and hasn't answered her phone for the past two days.
"Hello, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable..."
Zhou You stared at the last message on his phone screen—a message from Mei Mei: "Hello? Who are you?"—feeling a heavy weight pressing on his chest. He hadn't done anything wrong, so how had things come to this?
"Hello, what are you daydreaming about?" Su Yingxue handed over the packaged eggplant pancakes. "Eat them while they're hot."
Zhou You snapped out of his daze and accidentally brushed his fingertips against the vendor's clean hand as he took the bag. Only then did he notice that the vendor was a young girl who looked quite young.
The moment Zhou You took his first bite of the eggplant cake, tears suddenly welled up in his eyes.
The crispy crust crackled between his teeth, and the tender meat filling, mingled with the aroma of tomato, exploded in his mouth—the taste was exactly the same as what his grandmother used to make. Five years ago, when his grandmother passed away, he cried like a child. Now, this familiar taste made him feel as if he had been transported back to that autumn of his childhood, filled with the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms.
"Boss..." he choked up, looking up, "Why did you also think of doing this?"
Su Yingxue smiled and pointed to the oil pan: "I just like to eat it too, I'm making it for my friends."
"Then... what if your girlfriend is angry and won't eat?" Zhou You suddenly asked, a little crumb still stuck to the corner of his mouth.
Su Yingxue blinked: "Then it depends on your actions. For example—" she pointed to the remaining eggplant pancakes, "buy another batch and deliver it to her personally."
Zhou You's eyes lit up: "That's true!" He pulled out his phone, "Boss, five more servings, I'll pack them all up!"
Su Yingxue deftly packed the food into bags, then suddenly lowered her voice: "Remember, just sending food isn't enough. After she accepts the food, you need to apologize properly."
Zhou You nodded repeatedly, having already prepared his answer in his mind. He touched his phone in his pocket—now that the unfinished building had been restarted, there was still hope for his wedding room.
As dawn broke, Su Yingxue packed up her stall. In the distance, Zhou You, carrying a steaming hot eggplant pancake, strode towards his girlfriend's house.
"Meimei, I was wrong..." He took a deep breath. "Look, I brought you your favorite—"
"Eggplant cake?" In the early hours of the morning, Meimei rubbed her eyes and peeked out of her house, suddenly smelling a familiar aroma. Looking at her boyfriend's tired face and smelling the eggplant cake, her heart softened instinctively.
For years, she hadn't had such authentic fried eggplant cakes.
In the oil pan, the last batch of eggplant cakes was sizzling, and under the golden crust, the tender meat filling was bubbling with happiness.
As Zhou You watched his girlfriend happily eating her eggplant pancake, he suddenly remembered his boss's suggestion to hold a food festival at the scenic area to boost visitor numbers. This seemed like a good idea.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com