The large pot used for steaming buns in the kitchen was filled with boiling water. After the water boiled, the dumplings, which looked like little gold ingots, were put into the water.
After cooking several large pots of food, Xu Di led his men to a village near the manor.
Many families in this village rented land from this estate and are now tenant farmers of the Xu family. When the estate was being built, many villagers came to help, paying each person a few coins a day. Xu Di arranged meals for everyone who came to work, providing lunch and dinner. Later, whenever there was anything else that needed to be done, the villagers were very willing to come and help.
Xu Di led his men, filling several large food boxes with freshly cooked dumplings. The unique aroma of flour, combined with the fragrance of pork filling, attracted several village children to follow behind Xu Di and his group as soon as they entered the village.
When the villagers saw Xu Di, they quickly went to find the village headman, who rushed over and asked, "Young Master, what brings you here?"
The village head was a man in his fifties, and he looked much older than his actual age because he was always busy with farm work.
Xu Di quickly bowed and said, "Zhang Lizheng, these are dumplings made with flour from the winter wheat we planted last year. My mother came over today and happened to dig up a lot of shepherd's purse from the field, so she thought of making some dumplings so that everyone could taste the flavor of winter wheat."
Upon hearing this, the village headman quickly expressed his gratitude. After giving all the dumplings to the village headman, Xu Di led his men back home. It was already noon, and their stomachs were growling with hunger. The thought of the fragrant shepherd's purse dumplings made them even hungrier. As for how to divide the remaining dumplings, that was the village headman's business. Xu Di knew that this village headman of Zhangjia Village was a fair man.
The small village near Zhuangzi is called Zhangjia Village. All the families in the village are surnamed Zhang. It is said that they were a small family that fled from other places many years ago. Later, they settled down here, multiplied and thrived. Over the decades, they have developed into a small village. Because their ancestors were from the same family, the villagers are all related by blood. They discuss things together and are very united.
Xu Di went back and buried his head in a large bowl of dumplings before he felt like he had come back to life.
Zhang Zhaoci didn't eat first and waited for Xu Di to return. Only after Xu Di came back did she start eating with him. Seeing that Xu Di was eating happily, she said, "When we leave later, let's take some shepherd's purse with us. I'll make you shepherd's purse wontons tomorrow morning."
Xu Di said, "That's great, I'm really looking forward to my mother's cooking."
Zhang Zhaoci sighed and said, "It's just that your father didn't come with us this time, so he didn't get to taste these hot dumplings."
Upon hearing this, Xu Zhi picked up her bowl and said, "Mother, I'm not eating anymore. Can you give these to Father to take back and eat?"
Zhang Zhaoci smiled and patted Xu Zhi's head, saying, "No need, we'll make more for your father tonight. Xiao Jiu, eat it while it's hot."
Hearing this, Xu Zhi felt relieved and began to eat. She thought these were the best dumplings she had ever eaten.
Back in the Marquis's mansion, the main kitchen would send over a few dumplings during the Spring Festival. The dumplings delivered to my courtyard were already cold, and the fillings weren't anything special. They were nothing like the shepherd's purse and pork dumplings I have now. They're so delicious that I almost want to swallow my tongue after eating one.
After lunch, they rested for a while in the backyard before Zhang Zhaoci took them back to the city.
Zhang Zhaoci and the others went back, but the dumplings they left behind in Zhangjiazhuang caused a huge uproar in the village.
The village headman gathered all the villagers together in the village's threshing ground. When they saw the colorful dumplings inside the large food boxes, everyone's eyes widened in amazement.
The village head said, "Gentlemen, this was just delivered by our young master. He said it was dumplings made from flour ground from the winter wheat they grew last year. Today, he made shepherd's purse dumplings and specially brought them over for us to try. Let's all come and have a taste."
Someone said, "Uncle Village Head, is it the wheat in the neighbor's field? It's really amazing that the wheat planted in the ground in the dead of winter didn't freeze to death. Here, the winters are freezing cold."
Someone else said, "Who says otherwise? I heard that this white flour is quite expensive. Who among us has ever eaten such white and fine flour?"
The village head said, "Alright, alright, let's divide it up. There are about a hundred of us here. I counted, and each person over sixty years old gets two, each child under six years old gets two, and the rest get one. We'll just have a taste."
Everyone knows that rice and wheat flour are expensive, and many people are even tasting dumplings made from such delicate wheat flour for the first time.
The village, with its hundred or so people of all ages, each held a dumpling, took a small bite, and were immediately captivated by the unique aroma of the fragrant wheat flour.
Someone shouted, "Uncle Village Head, let's plant wheat in the winter too. Why don't you go and talk to the young master? Our village has rented so much land from them, surely he can teach us how to plant it properly?"
The village head had already finished the dumpling he was given. To be honest, the dumpling tasted really good. The shepherd's purse was fresh and tender, and the minced pork was smooth and fragrant. I don't know how they made the filling, but it tasted absolutely amazing.
Most importantly, it tastes like flour. The village head had once left this place with the locals. He had eaten steamed buns made from flour outside, and the sweet aroma had stayed with him for decades. But that was in the far south. Here in his hometown, the winters are so cold. He never imagined that wheat planted in the fall could survive the winter.
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