Huang Shengli thought he might need to revisit the recipe for the guo’er.
When Zheng Da first sent him the recipe, he studied it for a few days and found it very peculiar.
It’s a recipe for a pastry snack, yet its requirents for at cooking are significantly higher than for pastry. It doesn’t resemble a snack; it’s more like a dish that happens to require dough. The chef who created it seems to be a highly skilled at Chef, forced by so reason to delve into pastry making.
You could say it’s as strange as it gets.
But nothing is stranger than the fact that the recipe requires using the big spoon stir-frying technique for the filling.
What does it an to use a big spoon for stir-frying the filling?
95% of the dishes on the Huang Ji Restaurant nu don’t require using the big spoon stir-frying technique.
Huang Shengli felt he might indeed be getting old; hearing such shocking news for the first ti made his brain a little slow to process it. He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to ask. By the ti he figured out what to ask, the aroma of the dough had already drifted over.
The delicious fragrance of wheaten food stead to perfection was wafting through the air, with a rich wheat aroma intertwined with a faint hint of alcohol. The alcohol scent was subtle but unmistakable, like the most dazzling flower in a bouquet.
At this point, Huang Shengli didn’t even have any extra energy to ponder why stir-fried fillings needed a big spoon because the aroma was so familiar.
The sll of fernted rice with stead buns.
It was the taste his Master, Master Jing from the state-owned restaurant, made when Huang Shengli was still an apprentice. Every day, the stead buns would draw in a crowd vying for them. The line of people buying buns would stretch from the state-owned restaurant to the end of the street, lined with kids holding bowls, eating just with the scent of the buns. The aroma of these buns could genuinely make the children next door jealous to tears.
This is the scent!
Huang Shengli took a deep breath, feeling as though he was transported back several decades to when he was in his teens.
Back then, he and Zheng Da were still apprentices at the state-owned restaurant, earning barely enough for their food and drinks. But during that ti, they lived at their Master’s ho, never went hungry, and still had so leftover money each month to send ho.
Huang Shengli also rembered helping to sell buns. The neighbors weren’t too picky, but white flour buns were indeed precious. Everyone’s eyes were glued to his hand when he picked a bun, afraid he’d grab a small one and shortchange them.
The Master was always amazing, making every bun equally sized, indistinguishable to the naked eye.
Huang Shengli also recalled that he was always extra hungry in his teens, feeling hungry again after just eating. While helping to sell buns, he would secretly swallow his saliva as he sold them.
Back then, he and Zheng Da were both apprentices. The discounted als at the state-owned restaurant didn’t reach them. The Master would always save his buns for them, splitting one in half, one half for himself, and the other half for Zheng Da.
As he reminisced, Huang Shengli felt his vision becoming a bit blurry, as if he was being transported back far into the past with the aroma of buns.
"Master, here you are. I just ran to the second floor to look for you, but you were at the kitchen door. Let tell you, the fernted rice buns Qin Huai made are really delicious, just as good as Junior Master Zheng’s! I got you the two most beautiful ones, still warm, try them quickly."
"Master, you must try the ones I got for you. They’re much prettier than the ones senior brother got."
Dong Shi’s babbling dragged Huang Shengli back from distant mories, seeing his particularly talkative young apprentice holding a plate with two beautiful, plump fernted rice buns. Huang Shengli cald his mind slightly.
It seems I’ve indeed gotten old, reminiscing about the past just from the sll of buns.
Huang Shengli quietly sighed; it seems it’s also ti to genuinely prepare for retirent.
Huang Shengli smiled and picked up a bun, taking a big bite.
He hadn’t eaten like this in years.
But this ti, Huang Shengli wanted to eat like he did when he was young, eagerly taking a big bite as soon as he got a fernted rice bun because if he ate slowly, Zheng Da would start eyeing the remaining bun in his hand.
With one bite, the bun was soft but chewy, and the wheat fragrance was fully elicited. As he chewed, the bun’s original mild sweetness rged with the sweetness of the fernted rice in the mouth.
The aroma of the fernted rice lingered at the tip of his nose, yet it didn’t taste like alcohol.
This is the flavor, the very essence a fernted rice bun should have!
Huang Shengli recalled the words his Master repeatedly emphasized when teaching Zheng Da to make fernted rice buns decades ago.
"The most important thing in making fernted rice buns is capturing the aroma of the wine and the sweetness of the fernted rice. If the buns end up tasting like wine, then they’re a complete failure."
There’s no doubt; the bun before him was a successful fernted rice bun.
So successful that it made Huang Shengli feel as if he had returned to his apprentice days. No matter if his day’s learning and work had gone well or poorly, whether he had progressed or ssed up, at the end of the day, the Master would magically produce a fernted rice bun, split it, and tell him he did a great job.
Huang Shengli chewed silently, countless mories flooding his mind.
Over the years, he hadn’t been without fernted rice buns. Although Zheng Da had given up becoming a top pastry chef and ventured into business to beco a wealthy rchant, he hadn’t lost the skills he learned back then.
Sotis, when the apprentices would get together, Zheng Da would showcase his skills, making so delicious snacks, including fernted rice buns.
Zheng Da indeed inherited the Master’s true teachings.
But—
Looking at the half-eaten fernted rice bun in front of him, Huang Shengli squeezed it tightly, compressing and wrinkling it, then released it and watched as it slowly bounced back.
None of Zheng Da’s buns were like this.
Zheng Da’s buns were his own.
Qin Huai’s bun, however, felt to Huang Shengli very much like the Master’s bun.
Not identical, but certainly more so than Zheng Da’s.
And, for so reason, the more he ate, the more he thought of the Master, to the point where his eyes began to redden.
"Master, were your eyes stung by the bun steam? Why do they look a bit red? It shouldn’t be too hot." Dong Shi brought it up inappropriately.
"There’s sothing in my eye," Huang Shengli said in irritation, picking up the other bun from the plate. "What are you waving it around for? Xiao Qin is certainly still getting used to the environnt on his first day, and you’re closest to Xiao Qin, so quickly go chat with him."
"Don’t think I didn’t know. When I asked you to help keep an eye on Xiao Qin’s soup, you spent half the ti chatting, not caring about the soup at all."
Dong Shi chuckled and ran off with the plate.
Huang Shengli handed the other bun to Zheng Siyuan, who waved it off: "Uncle, I’ve been eating fernted rice buns every morning recently."
Implying that he’s had enough and wants a change now that he’s ho.
"Did your dad teach Xiao Qin this bun?" Huang Shengli asked.
Zheng Siyuan shook his head, indicating he didn’t know: "Probably not, but my dad might have advised him. Qin Huai saw the recipe in the Snack Encyclopedia and made it himself. He’s even given pointers."
"He told the temperature is the most important factor in making fernted rice buns. I tried it at ho, and indeed, precise temperature control does make a better bun."
Huang Shengli was astonished again.
He had just thought Qin Huai’s fernted rice buns were guided by Zheng Da and Zheng Siyuan, but it turned out to be the other way around, with Qin Huai advising Zheng Siyuan.
Huang Shengli thought for a mont: "Siyuan, let’s leave a bit later tonight. I’ll cook up a feast to welco Xiao Qin!"
"Hasn’t your back been bothering you lately?"
"It’s nothing major," Huang Shengli pounded his back. "It won’t interfere with cooking anyway—just one table."
"I also need to show Xiao Qin his Master Huang’s skills."
"I’m not like your dad, who studied cooking for over a decade then switched to business as a half-cooked chef."
Zheng Siyuan: ...
Co on, Uncle, why are you suddenly trash-talking?
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