Tang Dynasty: Slacking off in the Imperial Kitchen, exposed by Si Zi

Chapter 137 Does Laba porridge have eight flavors?

Su Mu, however, seemed not to understand the hidden meaning in the words and used the fire tongs to pok at the honeycomb briquettes in the stove.

"Your Majesty, this balance of strength and gentleness isn't actually that mysterious."

Su Mu said casually, "Like the coal in this stove. If it's a hard rock, it's a dead object; it can't be lit or heated."

"It needs to be broken up, ground into powder, mixed with soft loess, and pressed into a honeycomb shape to allow air to pass through. Only then can it become a life-saving fire."

Li Yuan paused for a moment, staring blankly at the blue flames dancing in the furnace.

"Smash it—mix it with loess—to allow air circulation—"

Li Shimin was peeling an orange when he heard this, he paused, and gave Su Mu a deep look.

Is this kid using coal briquettes as a metaphor for people? Or for the country?

"Hey!"

Li Yuan suddenly slapped his thigh, his laughter so loud it shook the roof beams and sent a few specks of dust falling. "You, Su Mu! You're just subtly insulting me as a stubborn old stone!"

Li Shimin was startled and was about to speak up to smooth things over.

But Li Yuan picked up the remaining half bowl of wine soup, drank it all in one gulp, and showed no anger on his face, but rather an unprecedented sense of relief.

"That's wonderful! No one has dared to speak to me like that for so many years!"

Li Yuan wiped his black beard, his eyes glazed with drunkenness, and pointed at Su Mu, "Come often! Bring this 'black soup' and this wine! My Da'an Palace is too desolate; it needs your earthy, cozy warmth!"

"Alright."

Su Mu chuckled and cupped his hands in greeting, "As long as the Emperor Emeritus doesn't let His Majesty renege on the payment for the wine, that's fine."

"He dares!"

Li Yuan glared, then unfastened a fine piece of mutton-fat jade from his waist and casually tossed it to Su Mu. "I'll pay for this wine! From now on, you don't need to announce your arrival at Da'an Palace; you can just climb over the wall and come in! If anyone dares to stop you, tell them to come find me!"

Seeing this, the little ox also tried to do the same, attempting to pry a gem off the gold lock around its neck.

"Even the students have to pay! And they still want to drink the cloud soup!"

Su Mu quickly pressed down on the spendthrift little hand: "Alright, little ancestor, you've already paid for the dragon."

Laughter erupted again inside the house, and even the wind and snow outside seemed to soften a bit.

Looking at the room filled with the aroma of cooking, Li Shimin finally peeled the roasted orange in his hand and popped a segment into his mouth.

Sour, sweet, and hot!

Although I didn't get to drink that divine soup, the taste wasn't bad at all.

As darkness fell completely, the lights of Da'an Palace came on.

Su Mu got up to say goodbye, saying he had to go back to change the wicks in the coal stoves that were queuing up.

Li Yuan was drunk and was already snoring on the kang (a heated brick bed).

Li Shimin, holding the sleeping baby in his arms, stood under the eaves watching Su Mu's departing figure as he walked through the snow.

"Heh, this kid's got some interesting."

On the Laba Festival, the wind in Chang'an was no longer the dry, biting wind, but carried a heavy, damp chill.

The large iron pot in the backyard of the imperial kitchen has been steaming since midnight last night.

The flames in the stove licked the bottom of the pot, simmering gently all night long.

As the saying goes, once the Laba Festival is over, the New Year is just around the corner.

Laba Festival is naturally a very important festival.

Su Mu, wrapped in an old cotton-padded coat, held a wooden stirring spoon about half the length of a person and stirred it clockwise in the large pot.

The pot contained dark purple waves.

This rice is no ordinary rice; it's the black jade purple rice that the system just gave us last night, paired with equally top-quality red beans, red dates, lotus seeds, peanuts, longan, lily bulbs, and walnuts.

None of the eight items were just there to make up the numbers!

As the wooden spoon stirred, the pot of thick, purplish-red porridge churned and bubbled, releasing a rich, sweet aroma that permeated the entire backyard.

"Brother--!"

A sweet, childlike cry pierced through the rich aroma of the porridge.

Little Sizi was dressed like a walking red lantern this time, with her two little hands tucked into her sleeves, and she rushed over from the front yard with her short legs.

When she got to the stove, she stood on tiptoe, her nostrils flaring rapidly, looking as greedy as a little squirrel that had just woken up.

"It smells so good! What kind of porridge is this?"

Su Mu didn't stop what he was doing, and glanced at her with a smile.

"Laba porridge, once you eat this, the New Year is officially over."

"Laba porridge? Does it have eight flavors?"

"More than eight."

Su Mu closed the fire door slightly, leaving only a small ember to burn.

He turned and walked to the corner of the wall, where several inconspicuous earthenware jars were placed, their mouths sealed tightly with oiled paper and yellow mud.

About two weeks ago, he specially selected purple-skinned single-clove garlic, peeled it, removed the stem, and soaked it in rice vinegar.

Counting the days, today is the perfect day to open the altar.

Su Mu reached out and patted off the seal clay, then peeled off the oil paper.

A sharp, sour smell, the rich aroma of fermented vinegar mixed with the spiciness of garlic, instantly exploded in the courtyard filled with the sweet fragrance of porridge.

The little ox shrank back as it smelled the odor, and waved its little hand in front of its nose.

"It's so sour! Honey, has it gone bad?"

Su Mu didn't speak, but took out a pair of dry, long chopsticks and put them into the jar.

When you lift it up again, there's something stuck to the tip of the chopsticks.

The thing was entirely emerald green, a clear and deep green, without a single blemish.

In this drab winter, this touch of green is almost dazzling.

"Watch."

Su Mu placed the emerald-like garlic clove on a white porcelain dish.

"This is called Laba garlic, which means garlic has become a spirit and is wearing a green robe."

Just then, a series of steady footsteps came from the courtyard gate.

Li Shimin strode into the courtyard with his hands behind his back, appearing more at ease since Wang Dequan was not following behind him.

He was wearing a dark robe today, and his face looked a little tired, obviously having been drawn here by the aroma of porridge right after court.

"I can smell the fragrance of this purple rice from afar, Su Mu, where did you get this tribute rice from?"

Li Shimin didn't stand on ceremony. He walked straight to the stove, peeked into the pot, and his Adam's apple bobbed noticeably.

"It smells so good! This porridge has a thin layer of oil on top, and the rice grains are cooked until they bloom but don't fall apart. It's a skillful dish."

As soon as he finished speaking, his nose twitched twice, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

That sour and spicy flavor mixed with the sweet aroma was really too abrupt.

Li Shimin turned his head following the scent, and the sunlight fell on the white porcelain dish on the small wooden table.

A few green things lay alone in the dish.

"This is----"

Li Shimin squinted, leaned closer, and when he saw that it was garlic, his expression instantly turned strange.

"Su Mu, your garlic is moldy and hairy! It's all green like this, why don't you throw it away right now?"

Su Mu placed the prepared Laba porridge on the table and poured some aged vinegar with pickled garlic into the dish.

"Your Majesty, this isn't spoiled. This is the color after low-temperature pickling; it should be green to be authentic."

"Nonsense!"

Li Shimin took a half step back with a look of disgust and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

"Though I am not a skilled butcher, I know that garlic is a poisonous substance. This green color looks like poison; who would dare to eat it? Besides—"

He paused, a hint of imperial composure appearing on his face.

"Garlic has a pungent and foul odor, and it leaves one with bad breath that's hard to get rid of. I still have to go to the Liangyi Hall later to see those old fogies like Wei Zheng. What kind of decorum would it be if I had to go with this garlic breath?"

Su Mu didn't reply, but simply pushed the plate of green garlic towards Xiao Sizi.

"Want to give it a try?"

Little Sizi looked at the tiny green thing and felt a little uneasy.

But this was given to me by my husband.

Even if it's poison, it's sweet if it's given by my patron!

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