1984: Starting from a bankrupt Sichuan restaurant

Chapter 167 The Master of Braised Dishes!

[Ding! The mission to enter Kong Qingfeng's memory fragments has been completed!]

[Reward: Knife Skill Proficiency +10086!]

Just as Zhou Yan lay down, a notification popped up in the background of his eyes.

Zhou Yan's eyes lit up; there really was a reward!

Moreover, it only gives you knife skills proficiency.

Add some points!
He glanced at the panel, at the knife skills section:
【Knife Skill (Advanced): 16686/100000】

Their proficiency has improved significantly, putting them far ahead of those who are still at the intermediate level in terms of seasoning and heat control.

Zhou Yan closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to various images of Kong Qingfeng honing his knife skills.

When he opened his eyes again, he seemed to have a sudden realization.

This feeling is hard to describe; you might only be able to feel it when you actually cut vegetables.

In fact, once your knife skills reach an advanced level, you'll be able to handle the vast majority of occasions and dishes.

Beyond that, there are subtle differences in the details.

Only when using certain ingredients that require precise handling can the difference in top-notch knife skills be truly revealed.

Today's trip was very beneficial for Zhou Yan.

He only had a vague understanding of the matter of teaching apprentices. Xiao Zhou's memory was still that of an apprentice practicing knife skills, cutting endless potatoes and radishes.

Zhou Lihui had been working as a cook at the restaurant for over a month, but he still hadn't figured out how to teach him to cook.

Through Kong Qingfeng's fragmented memories, he saw the complete closed loop of the Kong school's inheritance.

Starting with knife skills and techniques, the apprentices are taught how to select ingredients and how to learn simple dishes, gradually growing into qualified chefs before finally graduating.

This is the true inheritance of the Confucian school, not just a few famous Confucian dishes.

For Zhou Yan, this was even more valuable than those 10086 points of proficiency.

With the restaurant business becoming increasingly busy, training apprentices also needs to be put on the agenda.

……

The next day, at the crack of dawn, Comrade Xiao Zhou and Comrade Lao Zhou went out to buy groceries.

Zhou Yan went back to Zhoucun to buy beef. He picked out the meat and asked Old Zhou to wait for him to cut it up. He then rode his bicycle back to the old house.

It wasn't fully light yet, but the courtyard was already lit by a dim, yellow light.

"Coo coo coo—!"

The old woman's voice came from the yard; she was probably feeding the chickens.

Zhou Yan stepped forward, knocked on the door, and called out, "Grandma!"

"Which one?"

"I am Zhou Yan!"

The courtyard gate opened, and the old lady, holding a spoon, smiled at Zhou Yan, who was standing at the gate, and asked, "Zhou Yan, what brings you here so early?"

"Grandma, do you remember when I borrowed the blue and white porcelain basin from you last time?" Zhou Yan said with a smile.

"Your mom said she wanted to borrow it to take pictures, saying you wanted to be in some magazine. What? Now she wants to borrow the basin too?" the old lady asked, looking at him.

"This time, instead of borrowing a basin, I'm inviting you to be interviewed by the deputy editor-in-chief of Sichuan Cuisine magazine and talk about your story of selling braised food at Suji Bridge back then." Zhou Yan said with a smile, "I'll put you in a magazine, a professional culinary magazine, so that people all over the country will know that you, Zhang Shufen, make good braised food."

The old lady waved her hand and said, "What's so great about making braised food? Getting it featured in a magazine would just make people laugh."

“There’s so much to tell about making braised food. Tell me how you inherited and carried forward this craft from your maternal grandfather, how you built Zhang’s braised food into a delicious memory for the people of Jiaozhou from a small stall, how you raised five sons with just a braised food stall, and how you passed this craft on to me so that it can be passed down.” Zhou Yan looked at the old lady earnestly: “Grandma, no one will laugh at you.”

The old lady looked at him in silence for a moment, then asked, "What kind of shady magazine is this? It even gets published for casual gossip?"

Zhou Yan: ?
“Grandma, Sichuan Cuisine magazine is a professional cooking magazine, sponsored by the Provincial Vegetable Catering Service Company. It’s a legitimate magazine, and many professional chefs would love to be featured in it.” Zhou Yan couldn’t help but laugh as he earnestly explained to the old lady, taking the magazine out of the cloth bag in the bicycle basket: “Look, this cover is the one with the blue and white porcelain basin I borrowed from you last time, and it’s the one with the braised beef in it.”

The old lady held the magazine up to the light, squinted at it for a while, and nodded: "Hmm, well done, quite skillful."

Zhou Yan then opened the magazine and introduced, "Look, these two pages are about the beef 'Qiaojiao' I made. The previous article introduced Master Hua, a top chef at Rongleyuan, and the next article is about Master Xu, a top chef, explaining the methods for making several kinds of noodle fritters."

"Your braised beef is a really good improvement on the soup pot, and the other dishes are also very well cooked. You deserve the evaluation of a professional chef. In the future, you may not be worse than those two master chefs." The old lady looked up at him and said with a smile, "But do you think it is appropriate for an old rural lady like me who can't read many words to be placed with these masters?"

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" Zhou Yan closed the magazine and looked at the old lady, saying, "Grandma, you're not just a rural old lady, you're a master of braised food, the founder of Zhang's Braised Food, the head of the Zhou family, the mentor of Zhou Yan, the rising star in the culinary world, the wife of a first-class meritorious official, and the mother of a first-class meritorious official—Comrade Zhang Shufen!"

The old lady stared at him for a moment, a glint of light appearing in her eyes.

“Grandma, you’ve made braised food for half your life, turning Zhang’s braised food into a delicious memory for generations of Suzhou people. You deserve the title of ‘master.’” Zhou Yan said earnestly, “I think you witnessed that turbulent half-century, and a pot of braised food was a part of it all. I think it’s worth recording.”

The old lady remained silent for a long time before nodding: "Okay, I'll listen to you."

Zhou Yan smiled and said, "Then it's settled. After I finish working at the shop this noon, I'll bring Editor-in-Chief He to my home for an interview."

After returning to the stone bridge with the beef, Zhou Yan parked his bicycle in front of Zhang Laosan's meat stall. He glanced at the pig's head and meat and found that the quality was fine. He then asked Lao Zhou to weigh and load the meat onto the truck, while he headed towards Laifu's tofu stall.

Today is market day, and there are a lot of people setting up stalls. Some are carrying their own free-range eggs, chickens, ducks, and geese to sell, while others are carrying handmade products such as winnowing baskets, wooden shovels, and brooms. But most of them are selling vegetables.

There were many people rushing to buy things, shoulder to shoulder, and the sounds of hawking and bargaining could be heard everywhere.

"This winnowing basket costs eight cents! No bargaining."

"Four corners!"

"Where can you cut it in half? That's too low. I only make one in one night." "Triangle."

"Fine, fine, I'll sell it to you for four cents. I'll buy two pieces of tofu to cook with pork."

Zhou Yan bought two bunches of fresh, tender green vegetables and saw the tofu stall surrounded by people from afar.

Laifu was weighing tofu for a customer with a smile on his face. The scale was as high as ever, and business was booming.

As Zhou Yan approached, an older woman was paying for a block of tofu, muttering, "Make more next time. I was planning to buy two more blocks to fry and send to my youngest daughter. Your tofu is better than others."

“He can’t hear,” Zhou Yan reminded him with a smile.

"I know, I just like to recite a few lines." The auntie smiled and handed the money to Laifu, then looked at Zhou Yan and recommended, "This kid is very honest. He always gives you more when weighing the food, and his tofu is delicious. But we're sold out today, so you'll have to come earlier next time if you want to buy some."

“Okay.” Zhou Yan nodded with a smile.

On the small table, two slabs of tofu had already sold out. A few customers came over, glanced at them, and left somewhat disappointed.

Lai Fu looked at Zhou Yan, who was smiling happily, his smile still pure and innocent.

He handed Zhou Yan a basket covered with gauze, along with a large bundle of dried bean curd sticks.

Zhou Yan reached out and took it, glancing at his hands covered in blisters. The basket was filled with dried tofu, heavy and heavy, with that large bunch of dried bean curd weighing at least ten pounds.

There was a note on the basket that read: Dried tofu - 10 jin, dried bean curd sticks - 16 jin, total: 16.8 yuan.

Zhou Yan put down the basket, picked up the scale next to him, and weighed the dried bean curd again. It weighed 16 jin and 6 liang.

The dried tofu weighs 10 jin and 7 liang.

He knew that Lai Fu was a simpleton who loved to round down to zero.

Zhou Yan took out seventeen yuan and fifty cents and handed it to him, then took out paper and pen and wrote: "If the scale is inaccurate next time, I won't buy it."

Lai Fu took the money and scratched his head somewhat awkwardly.

Zhou Yan added, "The production of dried bean curd sticks has increased significantly, which is great."

Laifu took the paper and pen and wrote, "I helped with some of it."

Zhou Yan wrote: "How are Grandma's eyes and legs?"

Laifu smiled and wrote, "My eyes are a little better, but my legs are still the same."

Zhou Yan smiled too. It seemed that his aunt was in a good mood lately. "You've been doing very well lately. I'll go see her later."

Putting away the paper and pen, Zhou Yan picked up his things and turned to leave.

Laifu only sells two 20-jin boards of tofu a day now, and they were sold out before six o'clock.

Zhou Yan estimated that even if he carried four cartloads of forty jin (20 kg) of goods over, he could still sell them all.

But Zhou Yan didn't mention this to him.

Laifu was too thin. With his frail body, he had to carry 20 jin of tofu, 10 jin of dried tofu, and 16 jin of dried bean curd all the way to town. You can imagine how hard it was for him.

Zhou Yan calculated that the production capacity of dried bean curd sticks had reached 8 jin, and he needed 10 jin of dried tofu every day. He could sell 10.4 yuan worth of dried tofu every day.

The profit margin can be more than half, which is about 5.2 yuan.

Earn two yuan more from two slabs of tofu.

The grandfather and grandson can now earn more than seven yuan a day.

It costs nearly two hundred yuan a month.

This income far exceeds that of ordinary employees in a textile factory.

Of course, Zhou Yan didn't need to see the process of grinding tofu, making dried bean curd sticks, and drying tofu by hand to fully imagine how laborious it was, and that he must be busy all day long.

But being tired is better than having no hope at all.

Auntie's medical treatment costs money, and Laifu has to earn that money with his own hands.

"Zhou Yan, your old man said you were on the cover of a magazine? You're quite the promising kid!" Old Zhang exclaimed as he watched Zhou Yan approach, his eyes filled with envy for someone else's child.

Zhou Yan glanced at Old Zhou, who was smiling, and nodded with a smile: "Yes, Uncle Zhang, you can subscribe to the latest issue of Sichuan Cuisine magazine later."

“Okay.” Old Zhang nodded, then looked at the large bundle of dried bean curd sticks he was carrying and said, “So much dried bean curd sticks? I heard that this stuff is very troublesome to make, and it doesn’t weigh much.”

“Yes, the shop uses a lot of braised vegetarian dishes, so it’s troublesome to make.” Zhou Yan nodded.

“This kid is really sensible. Yesterday he came to my place and bought a piece of lard and some pork belly. I charged him eight cents a pound. This morning he came and brought me two pieces of tofu, saying he didn’t want any money from me.” Old Zhang said with emotion, “Although he can’t speak, he’s as clear-headed as a mirror.”

"Thank you for taking care of him, Uncle Zhang," Zhou Yan said.

Old Zhang patted his chest and said, "What are you thanking me for? Don't worry, I'll be here watching. If anyone dares to bully him, I'll definitely stand up for him."

"Okay." Zhou Yan and Old Zhou rode their bikes back, feeling warm inside. They were both such good people.

The morning was still busy.

Closed for business.

Zhou Yan came out of the kitchen and noticed the message that popped up in the corner of her eye:
[Side Quest: The Battle to Protect the Heritage of Xiba Tofu! Progress: 50%]

　Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)