Chapter 46 New Year's Eve Dinner
Zhao Xuan began preparing for the New Year.
This was the first time they wanted to celebrate the New Year since the apocalypse. Normally, they weren't even sure of the exact date, let alone holidays. Before the apocalypse, she and Lu An weren't particularly enthusiastic about holidays. Many young people probably felt that going out for a nice meal was a ritual. Lu An and Zhao Xuan also felt that cooking at home for holidays was unnecessary. They preferred to go to a chain restaurant for a decent hot pot meal, watch the artificial snow in the shopping plaza, and then walk home hand-in-hand late at night.
Zhao Xuan was a quick learner; she had already decided to marry Lu An while still in university. That year, she had just graduated and was enjoying a period of leisure, neither fully graduated nor employed. Lu An, on the other hand, was already working, and both sets of parents knew they were dating. Zhao Xuan's parents were overjoyed, feeling it was a double blessing that their daughter was graduating and about to get married. Lu An then took Zhao Xuan to look at houses in their shared favorite seaside city, and they decided to buy a small apartment to settle down.
They can earn more money for a big house; the future is long anyway.
Then came the outbreak of a major illness, which caught everyone off guard, and after that... she and Lu An never celebrated a single holiday together.
They didn't even know the anniversary of their parents' deaths. People were dying in large numbers, there weren't enough staff, and the hospital was completely quarantined. At first, the hospital would announce the list of dead patients every other day, then every two days, then every week... and then the days were getting longer and longer. In the end, the hospital completely lost its function, patients fled everywhere, and the virus spread through the air like a raging flood.
Their parents passed away around this time. Later, she and Lu An combined the dates of their parents' deaths to make one day, and on that day, they used toilet paper as paper money to burn for their parents.
When people have nothing, they feel utterly hopeless; when they have a lot, they feel they should try harder to live on.
With two heavy-duty workers in the family, the cleaning and dusting tasks were left to them, while Zhao Xuan herself was busy in the kitchen all day. The two refrigerators were already full of all kinds of raw meat, but she didn't plan to cook a big meal for the New Year. Leftovers and raw meat frozen together would be unhygienic. However, fried food was a must. Fried taro, fried radish balls, and fried pork with vinegar could make half a basin of these. Fried food doesn't spoil easily, and when you want to eat it, you can fry it for a while longer and it will be crispy again.
So early on New Year's Eve, Zhao Xuan began making fried food.
Choose large, firm taro roots, preferably cut into bite-sized cubes. Coat them with a thin layer of starch before frying. I used lard; I rendered a lot this time, so I indulged a little. The fried taro roots turned out golden and shiny, large and ready to eat with a pinch of salt.
Radish balls require some flour, which is very precious. Apart from the wheat that was used to make seeds, the remaining flour was still only a small jar. Zhao Xuan carefully picked out some, mixed it with the drained shredded red and white radishes, added chopped green onions and some sesame oil, and used a spoon to form balls before frying them.
She wasn't actually very good at making fried food. At first, the fire was too high, and the taro she tried burning a lot. Following the principle of not wasting food, Lu An and Lao Dao removed the burnt skins and happily ate these failed attempts. Later, she became more skilled and started serving up bowls of fragrant fried food. The fried taro was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, the radish balls were crispy on the outside and crunchy on the inside, and the vinegar pork was crispy on the outside and fragrant on the inside.
Zhao Xuan divided the large bowl of fried food into three portions. One portion was sealed with plastic wrap and could be stored in the refrigerator for several days. Half of one portion was put into a plate, and the other half was put into a clay pot to make soup, which they would eat today. The third portion was wrapped in a stainless steel lunchbox, and he called Lu An over to deliver it to the Yao family.
The weather was a bit colder than the previous few days. Lu An was wearing a clean orange-yellow windbreaker and earmuffs. He was about to get on the tricycle, his breath steaming in the air. Lao Dao called him back. Lu An was holding a dark green fishing net and said he wanted to go out together.
Zhao Xuan then told them to come back for dinner on time.
The house was spotless, with bright windows and floors. To keep out insects and rodents, all the curtains in the house had been taken down long ago, except for those in her and Lu An's bedroom and the thin cotton quilt curtain that Lao Dao used as a door curtain. But this year they found a few more curtains, washed them, and hung them in the living room and on the windows of each room. The curtains had been cut to the right size to block out the light when the lights were on at night, without being too big to attract dust.
Zhao Xuan was very satisfied with everything in the house. She even changed the bedding and picked out a few new-looking winter clothes, washed them, and made them new clothes for the family.
The kitchen was constantly filled with smoke. After frying the meatballs, Zhao Xuan took out the pork knuckle and stewed it with soybeans to make braised pork knuckle. On another stove, a large earthenware pot had been simmering pork bone soup for a long time. The salted pork bones had been washed with rice water, and with some ginger slices and white wine, they would soon simmer into a rich, milky white broth. At this point, he would add some dried bamboo shoots and dried mushrooms that he had picked in the spring—the bamboo shoots and dried mushrooms had already been soaked and rehydrated—and put them in, cover the pot, and let the bone soup continue to simmer.
It was past two in the afternoon when she finished all this. Zhao Xuan rubbed her aching back, took off her apron, and sat on the steps at the gate of the courtyard to wait for people to come back. She turned off the stove fire, leaving only the bone broth and pork knuckle simmering on the charcoal stove. With nothing to do and feeling a bit hungry, she used her chopsticks to pick up three meatballs and ate them like candied hawthorns while waiting for Lu An and the others to return.
Two o'clock passed in a flash, then three, and it wasn't until after four in the afternoon that Zhao Xuan heard dogs barking in the distance, followed by the crunching sound of a tricycle rolling over the road.
Lu An and Lao Dao rushed back, their foreheads covered in sweat.
Besides bringing back gifts from the Yao family, the two of them also brought back several small boxes and a bag of fish.
The return gift was still in that large stainless steel box. The fried food inside had already been poured out to the Yao family, who then stuffed the box full of fried tofu and braised eggs. Although the fried tofu was made by the Yao family themselves, it looked beautiful and neat, about the same size as the ones sold before the apocalypse. Each piece was golden and shiny, looking very appealing. The braised eggs also smelled delicious.
Old Dao jumped down from the truck bed, laughing, "Those eggs smelled so good! Lu An and I were so hungry that we couldn't resist grabbing a few to eat on the way!" He was carrying a bag of lively fish, including a two-pound grass carp and two small crucian carp weighing a few ounces each.
Old Dao had said that you must eat fish during the New Year, because it will bring you abundance every year. But he was living such a carefree life in the village that he forgot about fishing until New Year's Eve. Fishing wasn't difficult, but the fish in the ponds near the village were all too small. So after delivering fried food to the Yao family, he and Lu An rode to a more distant place to catch some bigger fish. The round trip took them quite a while.
Old Dao put the two small crucian carp into a basin to keep them temporarily, while he planned to kill the largest grass carp in the yard.
Both of them were covered in mud. Lu An washed his hands and face, changed into the so-called "new clothes" that Zhao Xuan had prepared, and sat obediently behind the stove to prepare to start a fire and cook the fish. Neither of them let Zhao Xuan do anything, saying that Zhao Xuan had already been busy all day, and they could do the rest.
The fish that Lao Dao makes is the popular braised fish. He fries the whole fish in oil until both sides are crispy, then adds water and seasonings, and finally sprinkles on some green and red peppers and chopped green onions.
After all that, it was already 5 p.m. During that time, Zhao Xuan sat in the living room. The fried tofu that the Yao family had brought was still warm when it arrived because it was wrapped in an insulated bag. She picked up a few pieces of tofu, dipped them in some chili powder, and ate them to fill her stomach.
This homemade tofu is made with vinegar, so it can't compare to the soft tofu sold outside. Soft tofu is fragrant on the outside and tender on the inside when it's made into fried tofu, but the homemade tofu is noticeably firmer inside, but it has a strong bean flavor. Zhao Xuan really likes the thick and fragrant feeling when you bite into it.
Zhao Xuan doesn't know how to make tofu, and this is the first time she's eaten it in five years. She's very happy.
The weather was rather gloomy today, with thick clouds that seemed to have been sleeping in a quilt for ten years.
The temperature remained low. Zhao Xuan took a small bite of fried tofu and exhaled a puff of white breath. In the kitchen, separated by a wall, Lao Dao had already placed the fish on a plate. He called to Lu An to turn off the stove, while he quickly and efficiently cleaned the pot. Then, he scooped a ladle of water from the water tank into the pot, intending to use the remaining heat from the stove to warm the water, making it the perfect temperature for washing dishes.
After setting out the bowls and chopsticks, the three of them prepared for the New Year.
The pork knuckle, stewed for an afternoon, was now tender and falling off the bone. The soybeans, which had been stewing with it, had absorbed the broth and turned a glossy, dark reddish-black. After reducing the sauce slightly, it was served in the pot. Fried foods were arranged on a large plate, and some fried meatballs were tossed into the pork bone broth. The milky white broth was now bubbling with bamboo shoots and wild mushrooms. Just before serving, the fried meatballs and homemade sun-dried rice noodles were added, making it a large, full bowl.
Zhao Xuan pulled out a tiny stove, the kind used for hot pot at home. It was about the size of an adult man's palm, heavy and sturdy made of metal. She stuffed small pieces of charcoal inside, placed pork bone broth on top, and let the vermicelli and meatballs in the broth continue to be heated by the charcoal. She also washed a bunch of greens, including bok choy and radish, drained them, cut them into sections, arranged them in a small round bamboo basket, and placed it next to the stove to cook them in the broth.
As darkness fell, the winter nights always came quickly.
Lu An breathed warm air onto his hands, closed the window, and drew the curtains. The lights in the living room were warm and inviting. Zhao Xuan was setting out the bowls and chopsticks when Lao Dao called out, "Here it is!" and brought out a braised fish from the kitchen.
A plate of assorted fried food, a plate of braised pork knuckle with soybeans, a pot of fragrant hot bone broth, and a plate of braised fish—the three of them sat down in a lively atmosphere. Old Dao filled a bowl halfway with soup and raised it high: "Come on, let's all have a toast!"
Three bowls of soup reached out, past the abundant food, and clinked together above the square table in the cold air.
With a clang, the bowls clashed together—a sound that symbolizes abundance year after year and peace throughout the year.
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