Fresh snacks
At first, the milk skin was simply crushed into smaller lumps. Pei Qingwu's arms soon began to ache, but she dared not stop. She repeatedly recalled the principle of whipping cream in her mind—forcing air into the fat particles through whipping, destroying their original structure, and causing them to expand by enveloping air.
In ancient times, without emulsifiers and constant low temperatures, this was nothing short of a gamble.
Sweat gradually soaked her temples, and Zhang Mama and the maid watched in disbelief, not understanding the meaning of this beating.
Time passed slowly, and the cream in the bowl changed from lumps to viscous, and its color seemed to lighten slightly, emitting a richer milky aroma. Pei Qingwu gritted her teeth, increased her speed, and changed the angle of her hammering. The soreness in her arms was nearing its limit. Just when she was about to give up, a barely perceptible feeling of resilience came from under the wooden pestle.
She keenly sensed the change and immediately focused even more intently on stirring in one direction.
The originally thick and soft mixture of cream began to slowly cling to the wooden pestle, and its volume visibly expanded, taking on a paste-like consistency similar to whipped cream in later generations. It was dense and slightly glossy, although it was far less fluffy and white than when whipped with an electric mixer, and its texture was slightly thicker and coarser. But it was definitely cream!
"It's done!" Pei Qingwu was overjoyed and almost shouted out loud.
She carefully scraped the hard-won ancient cream into a clean earthenware dish and placed it in the cool well water to preserve and cool it down.
This first step was taken with difficulty, and although the quantity and quality were small, it proved that the direction was feasible.
Taking advantage of the break between whipping the cream, she didn't dare to rest and immediately started preparing snowflake crisps.
"Please fetch some of the finest maltose and cooked glutinous rice flour. If you don't have any on hand, please fetch some japonica rice and have the cooks stir-fry it and grind it into powder immediately, the finer the better. Also, please have some raisins and walnuts," Pei Qingwu quickly instructed.
Seeing her incredible skill just now, Zhang's mother was now completely obedient and immediately directed her people to carry it out.
She first lightly toasted the raisins and walnuts in a clean copper pot to release their aroma, then removed them and set them aside. Next, she poured the maltose into another small copper pot, added a very small amount of water, and placed it on a small charcoal stove to simmer slowly.
The ancient sugar was slightly yellow in color and impurities were inevitable. She could only repeatedly skim off the foam and patiently wait for the syrup to boil and reach the right consistency. If it was too thin, it wouldn't hold its shape; if it was too thick, it would be hard and brittle and lose the soft texture of snowflake crisps.
Bubbling and bubbling, the syrup began to bubble in the pot, releasing a sweet and caramel aroma.
Pei Qingwu used clean bamboo chopsticks to pick up a strand and put it into cold water. After it cooled down, it could be pulled into thin strands and became slightly brittle, which meant it was cooked.
She immediately moved the fire away, quickly poured in the roasted raisins and walnuts, then sprinkled in a large amount of finely ground cooked glutinous rice flour, and stirred it quickly with bamboo chopsticks and a wooden spatula.
The hot syrup, carrying nuts and rice flour, was quickly poured into a shallow square wooden pan that had been sprinkled with a layer of cooked glutinous rice flour while it was still soft and chewy. She then quickly rolled it out with a rolling pin until it was flat. After that, she picked up a sharp kitchen knife and carefully cut the sugar into small, even cubes before it had completely cooled and hardened.
The edges of the hot sugar cubes were still a little sticky and soft, but the cuts were already smooth. Finally, each piece of snowflake crisp was rolled in a wooden basin filled with cooked glutinous rice flour to coat it evenly with a layer of snow-white coating.
The ancient version of snowflake crisps is ready!
The light golden sugar cubes encase purplish-jade raisins and golden walnut pieces, then are coated with a fine layer of snow powder. Although they are not as uniform as those cut by machines in later generations, and the texture is slightly coarser, the unique aroma that blends the fragrance of nuts, the sweetness of dried fruit, and the aroma of rice is already tempting enough.
Pei Qingwu picked up a piece and tasted it. It was soft, sweet, and had the unique flavor of maltose. Although it had a slightly gritty texture due to minor impurities, it was a rare and exquisite snack in this era.
She breathed a sigh of relief and carefully placed the finished product on a lacquer tray lined with clean mulberry paper.
Next came the most crucial challenge: the cake base. Without cake flour, baking powder, or a precisely temperature-controlled oven... it seemed almost impossible.
However, things can be accomplished by human effort.
She brought out the finest white wheat flour from the manor, striving for the finest texture. She also took out a dozen fresh eggs, carefully separating the egg whites and yolks. She added a little bit of her freshly refined crude butter and a touch of honey to the yolks, and vigorously whipped them until they turned slightly white and thick.
She placed the egg whites into another deep earthenware bowl, added a pinch of salt to stabilize the egg whites instead of cream of tartar, and picked up the heavy wooden pestle again to begin frantically beating them.
This time, the beating process was more difficult and lengthy than whipping cream.
The egg whites first turned into coarse bubbles, then into fine foam, expanding two or three times in volume. The blows made Pei Qingwu's arms ache terribly, and he had to rely entirely on his willpower to hold on.
She kept changing the direction and speed of the whisking, and finally, before her arms completely stiffened, she saw the egg whites turn into a state similar to the wet foam of later generations—when she lifted the wooden pestle, she could pull out curved, sharp points.
Ignoring her joy, she immediately scooped one-third of the whipped egg whites into the egg yolk mixture, quickly and gently folded it in with a wooden spatula, then poured it back into the remaining meringue and continued to carefully fold it in.
Finally, sift in the prepared flour and gently and quickly mix until there is no obvious dry flour.
Throughout the process, she moved with lightning speed, as if afraid that the egg whites she had worked so hard to whip would deflate.
The mixed batter has a pale yellow color and a light, fluffy texture, which means you're already halfway to success.
At this time, her envisioned oven was not yet complete, so she could only try using the existing flatbread oven.
Then, the cook cleared a space in a relatively even area of the stove fire, spread a thin layer of sesame oil on the bottom of a thick, lidded, round earthenware bowl, poured in the batter, and covered it with the lid.
"The heat must be steady! It can't be too high; it needs to be simmered slowly over a low flame!" Pei Qingwu stared intently at the stove opening, constantly instructing the cook who was controlling the fire.
The experienced butcher carefully adjusted the position of the firewood and the airflow.
Time passed second by second, and a strange sweet fragrance filled the storeroom. Pei Qingwu's heart was in his throat. After estimating that about half an hour had passed, he signaled the butcher to carefully take out the earthenware bowl.
The moment the lid is lifted, a rich, sweet aroma of eggs and milk bursts out.
Inside the bowl, a round object with a light golden-yellow surface expanded. Although the top had collapsed slightly due to the condensation of steam and was not a perfect dome, it actually looked quite like a cake base.
She carefully poked the center with chopsticks, and when she pulled them out, no wet batter came out with it, only some crumbs, which meant it was cooked.
Overjoyed, she carefully inverted the precious cake base onto a bamboo tray to cool. Although the texture was not as delicate as modern cakes, with a slightly chewy and coarse feel, and the cake was only about an inch high, it was enough.
Then comes assembly.
Pei Qingwu sliced the cooled cake base horizontally into two slices. On the first slice, she evenly spread the coarse-textured but richly milky cream that she had painstakingly whipped before, then covered it with the other cake base. After that, she spread all the remaining cream on the surface and sides of the cake, smoothing it out as much as possible with a wooden skewer.
Lacking a piping bag, she sewed a simple cone-shaped bag from a clean piece of cloth, filled it with cream, and tried to pipe a few small, crooked "flowers" on top of the cake as decoration.
Finally, sprinkle a few glistening, ruby-like pomegranate seeds on top as a garnish.
A rough, short, and stout cream cake, with crooked piping, yet exuding an enticing sweet aroma of eggs and milk, was completed.
It may not be aesthetically pleasing, and its taste may be far inferior to that of later generations, but it is a spark ignited by the collision of techniques spanning thousands of years.
Looking at the snowflake crisps and cream cake in front of him, Pei Qingwu let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a surge of exhaustion and a sense of accomplishment.
Just to be on the safe side, she set about preparing a third dessert, which, like the dragon beard candy and flower cake, was an exquisite intangible cultural heritage Chinese dessert called lotus flower pastry, which had not yet appeared but was already well-prepared for production.
Take the fine pork fat and render it into a snow-white solidified fat. Divide the refined white flour into two portions: add cold water to one portion and knead it into a water-oil dough, and add cooled cooked pork fat to the other portion and knead it into an oil-shortening dough.
The water dough is wrapped around the oil dough, rolled out repeatedly, and folded several times to carefully create a flaky pastry with distinct layers.
The filling is made from the finest red bean paste from Fuzhong, with a little osmanthus honey and a touch of her refined almond oil added for extra aroma, and then kneaded into small balls.
Roll out the puff pastry, wrap the red bean paste filling inside, seal the opening downwards, and shape it into a ball. Then, using an extremely sharp, thin-bladed knife, carefully cut out six even petals on the top of the ball, and dot the center of the flower with a little golden egg yolk.
"Prepare a pot of clean sesame oil and heat it to about 50% of its maximum temperature," Pei Qingwu instructed.
Once the oil in the pan was at the right temperature, she gently placed the shaped dough pieces into the pan.
A magical scene unfolded: the pastry rapidly expanded and layered in the hot oil, and the six cut edges slowly bloomed, like a pure white lotus flower blooming in the water. The petals were distinct, light and fluffy, and the red bean paste filling in the center of the flower was faintly visible, like a tender yellow stamen.
Once they are fried until golden brown all over and the petals are fully unfolded and set, quickly remove them and drain the oil.
Three kinds of pastries are placed on the table: Snowflake Pastry: coated with snow powder, containing treasures inside, simple and sweet; Cream Cake: short and plump, with the aroma of eggs and milk intertwined; Lotus Pastry: shaped like a lotus emerging from water, with a flaky crust as thin as a cicada's wing, blooming layer by layer, and a sweet and moist filling.
Pei Qingwu didn't have time to properly appreciate them before carefully arranging the pastries on an exquisite lacquer plate. She then said to Zhang Mama, "Please lead the way, Mama. Qingwu would like to invite Zhao Niangzi to sample some of them."
Mrs. Zhang was already dazzled by the sights, especially the flower-shaped pastries, which she had never heard of before. She quickly replied, "What a clever idea, sir! I'll take you there right away. My wife will be delighted to see them!"
Zhao Niangzi's boudoir, Zhaoxia Residence, was located deeper within the courtyard. The path wound its way through the streets, and there were few servants to be seen anymore. Most of the people coming and going were maids, all of whom were dressed elegantly and wealthyly.
Only when he was truly there did Pei Qingwu understand why Granny Liu mistook Ping'er for Wang Xifeng when she first entered the Jia family mansion.
Zhang's mother only led her to the main gate of Zhaoxia Residence, and then Suqiu, whom she had met before, came out and led Pei Qingwu inside.
Magistrate Zhao must have doted on this daughter. The courtyard is filled with lush flowers and trees, many of which Pei Qingwu couldn't even name. The rooms are even more beautiful.
Upon entering, a delicate and warm fragrance wafts over you. In the center is a large rosewood couch, covered with brocade cushions and pouches with intricate floral patterns. In front of the couch is an exquisite low table inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Against the wall stand several tall rosewood screens with double-sided embroidery of flowers and birds, cleverly dividing the space. On the side, a multi-treasure cabinet displays jade mountain carvings, celadon vases, gold and silver inlaid dressing cases, and a spirited Tang tri-colored horse.
On the wall hangs a meticulously painted scroll of ladies and birds, and under the window, on a low table, sits a golden lion-head incense burner, from which wisps of smoke escape. Crimson and pale yellow gauze curtains hang from the beams, swaying gently in the breeze. On the floor is a floral woven carpet, a tribute from the Western Regions, soft and silent underfoot.
Zhao Niangzi was sitting by the window, sketching something, when she heard Su Qiu report that she looked up and said, "Are the snacks ready? Bring them over so I can take a look."
Suqiu handed over the food box and then lifted the lid. Zhao Niangzi tilted her head and examined it for a while, then smiled and said, "It's really exquisite and novel. I've never seen such a pastry before."
"Then, please try it, my lady. Is it still palatable?" Pei Qingwu asked with a smile.
Suqiu cut off a small piece of the snowflake crisp, and Zhao Niangzi took a small silver fork, put it in her mouth and savored it carefully. Suddenly her eyes lit up: "Wonderful! It's so sweet and soft, I've never tasted anything like it before."
She also tasted the cake and lotus flower pastry and praised them highly: "Then, I'll leave the desserts for the banquet to the host. In addition to these three, please make some other things, twenty portions of each, and send them over in three days."
After saying that, she gave Suqiu a wink.
Suqiu understood and took out another ten taels of silver and handed it to Pei Qingwu: "This silver is for our wife to treat the master to tea."
As expected of the daughter of a high-ranking official, she can easily afford the down payment for a house in a modern small city.
Pei Qingwu was inwardly in tears, but she managed to compose herself and accept the gift: "This servant thanks you, madam."
As soon as they got home, Pei Qingwu excitedly pulled Gu Heng aside and showed him the silver in his purse: "Look, silver! Plenty of silver! Zhao Niangzi is truly beautiful and kind-hearted. I've never seen so much silver in my entire life!"
"I'm rich, Ah Heng! Your boss is rich!"
Gu Heng, however, was not as excited as she was. He just stared at the money, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to start.
Pei Qingwu didn't notice his unusual behavior. After calming down, she began to calculate the cost of making the pastries.
These are all physically demanding tasks, and she seemed unable to manage them all by herself in just three days. Gu Heng is a man who isn't very good at cooking, let alone making snacks.
It seems she too has to succumb to the evils of feudalism and buy someone to help her in the kitchen.
It was still early, and there was still some time before curfew, enough time for her to make the trip.
"Aheng, keep watch at the gate, I'm going to the horse market." With that, Pei Qingwu went to fetch his cloak.
Unexpectedly, Gu Heng seemed to have made up his mind. He stepped forward, knelt down with a thud, and asked in a slightly hoarse voice, "Master, are you going to the horse shop to buy people?"
Pei Qingwu was startled by his action and hurriedly bent down to help him up: "Get up quickly, what are you doing? Why did you suddenly kneel down... My goodness, this is terrible..."
Gu Heng refused to get up, his eyes red. He was already handsome, but now he looked more like a fragile porcelain doll, teetering on the verge of collapse: "Master saved me that day with a bodhisattva's heart. I was impudent, but..."
As he spoke, he took a deep breath and kowtowed heavily: "Although I have escaped this sea of suffering, my mother is still at the Drunken Moon Pavilion. Since the owner wants to buy people, Gu Heng begs the owner to redeem my mother..."
Pei Qingwu was taken aback.
"She is only thirty-five years old this year, in the prime of her life. She can embroider, write, make tea, and even learn to make pastries. She only asks that the master can redeem her and give her a bite to eat."
As he spoke, the child's forehead slammed firmly onto the ground with a loud thud.
"Hey, hey, get up, get up quickly," Pei Qingwu said hurriedly.
Courtesans are all pitiful people. As fellow women, it's only natural to help them if possible. It just so happens that her little market in Sushan is severely understaffed, but...
"Is your mother famous? I only have twenty taels of silver and some copper coins. If she's a famous courtesan, I'm afraid I won't have any money left..."
Gu Heng smiled wryly: "Don't worry, boss. Although my mother was famous when she was young, she's old now and not as beautiful as she used to be. Besides, she gave birth to me, so some customers are always looking down on her. I imagine she'd love for someone to redeem her, and..."
“My mother has been with so many wealthy customers and has long saved up a lot of money for herself. Many of the older women in the brothel are like that. She could easily redeem herself, but a woman of the night always needs to find a place for herself, which is why it has been delayed.”
Pei Qingwu thought for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, "Okay, I'll give it a try."
At worst, I can haggle with the madam.
As dusk approached, the southwest alley of Dashifang became a place for men to seek pleasure. The brothels lit up one after another, and brightly dressed women stood in front of the doors, smiling and soliciting customers. The air seemed to be filled with the cloying fragrance of cosmetics.
Like a thief, Pei Qingwu secretly slipped away through a side path to the front of Zuiyue Tower.
She didn't discriminate against women from brothels, but for a respectable woman like herself to appear here openly was still bad for her reputation.
She was greeted by a young woman of similar age, with her hair styled in two buns adorned with a silver butterfly hairpin. She wore a peach-red dress with a semi-transparent gauze shawl over it. Her oval face was painted with fashionable slanted red makeup, and her almond-shaped eyes held a charming smile. The willow-green shawl loosely tied around her arm swayed gently in the wind, revealing two twisted silver bracelets on her wrists. The lotus scrolls embroidered on the hem of her skirt swayed with her steps, as if a subtle fragrance wafted from them.
"What brings you to Zuiyue Tower, young lady? If you are interested in mirror polishing, I am happy to accompany you. If you are looking for your husband, please do not make a fuss. The women of Zuiyue Tower are all unfortunate. We are all women, why make things difficult for each other?"
Pei Qingwu gave an awkward smile: "I... I'm asking someone, the courtesan named Guizhi..."
A hint of sadness appeared in the young woman's eyes: "You're looking for Sister Guizhi? But she... her injuries are too severe to heal, and they say she'll pass away in the next few days..."
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