At 4 PM, the locust flower buns were out of the pot.
[Locust Flower Buns C-level]
Seeing the obviously failed locust flower buns, Qin Huai knew he must have ssed up many steps.
"Bro, bro, are they ready? Can I eat them now? Why did these buns take so long? The previous batch of Locust Flower Honey Buns already sold out," Qin Luo rushed to the stear at the first opportunity.
Qin Huai nodded to indicate they were ready to eat and reminded him, "Blow on them a bit more to cool them down."
Wearing gloves, Qin Luo grabbed a locust flower bun from the stear. Maybe because he had eaten fernted rice with stead buns a couple of days ago, Qin Luo instinctively squeezed the bun, feeling disappointed at its lack of resilience compared to the fernted bun before tearing it open.
Qin Luo blew on the bun several tis, attempted to open his mouth, failed, then blew for another half a minute, shook it, and finally deed it fit to take a bite.
"Bro, your bun isn’t much different from the previous ones, and it’s not very sweet," Qin Luo mumbled, "a bit hard, too. Did you not fernt the dough properly?"
Qin Huai felt that all those years Qin Luo spent eating buns were not wasted as he pinpointed the problem imdiately.
If he had fernted the dough properly, would this bun be C-level?
"Any other issues?" Qin Huai broke a small piece of the bun from Qin Luo’s hand and took a bite.
It was very diocre.
Just slightly better than Qin Congwen’s craftsmanship.
"Anything else?" Qin Luo chewed a couple of more bites and asked, "Isn’t this just a regular bun?"
The implication being, how many issues could a regular bun have?
Qin Huai silently ate.
The biggest issue with the locust flower bun was its ordinariness.
Turning what should be an S-level locust flower bun into a regular bun—wasn’t that a big problem?
"There’s still an issue with ferntation," Qin Huai muttered, "What’s so good about honey ferntation anyway?"
The night before, Qin Huai researched honey ferntation. Using honey to fernt dough had a long history, but it hadn’t been carried on because honey was a substitute when yeast was unavailable, a reluctant alternative.
Honey ferntation is challenging; it requires precise control over the ratio of honey to flour. Too much honey leads to ferntation failure, and seasonal and temperature factors also need consideration. It’s a high-difficulty, low-reward thod that wasn’t passed down for a reason.
Qin Huai felt that this failure wasn’t due to any external factors, but completely because his skills were not up to par.
Qin Huai even started to doubt whether Qin’s Stead Bun Shop’s secret was fernted rice with stead buns instead of the long-lost honey ferntation. Probably because honey ferntation required high technical skills, and sowhere along the line, a generation at Qin’s Stead Bun Shop didn’t make the cut, leading to its disappearance.
Qin Huai felt like scratching his head.
What to do, he kinda wanted to seek help online.
Ask the almighty netizens if there are any descendants of Jiang Chengde or Qin’s Stead Bun Shop, asking if they could kindly teach him so techniques to overco the technical bottleneck of honey ferntation.
Qin Huai felt he was slipping; actually beginning to think about cutting corners.
Indeed, cooking needs more practice.
Qin Huai swallowed the bun in his mouth and started practicing more.
anwhile, Grandma Ding, with the liveliest steps she’d taken in days, carried a big bag of buns and opened the door.
"Grandma!" Her little granddaughter, who loved maple syrup with goat milk, rushed over, "Eat buns!"
The little granddaughter was just over two years old, nibbled on buns rather than fully eating them, wasn’t very articulate, and was the main force in the household for wailing if she couldn’t have buns.
"Grandma bought the buns Miaomiao loves today, I’ll break one for you to eat in a mont," Grandma Ding smiled, taking a locust flower honey bun from the bag, reaching towards her grandson still gleefully watching cartoons on the carpet, "Tutu, eat a bun, your favorite."
Seeing both her younger siblings with buns, the second granddaughter couldn’t hold back and protested loudly, "Grandma, grandma, what about ?!"
"Tingting has so too, your favorite buckwheat buns with milk. When Grandma got there, the buns just ca out of the pot; I paid and hurried back imdiately, they’ll definitely taste good."
Only then did the second granddaughter, Tingting, happily hop over to grab a bun.
Seeing everyone else eating, the eldest granddaughter and eldest grandson decided they couldn’t miss out and ran over for buns. Grandma Ding, experienced with this sort of thing, tore a half-bun for each, distributing them to nibble on.
This puzzled Mr. Qiu, Grandma Ding’s husband.
"Did Master Qin make such a full range of flavors today?" Mr. Qiu said, inspecting the remaining buns.
Grandma Ding smiled mysteriously, her hands not stopping tearing buns, aiming to break them into small pieces to avoid her little granddaughter choking.
"You think those two jars of locust flower honey I gave yesterday were for nothing? Master Qin is smart, I guessed he probably forgot, cause when I peeked into the kitchen the other day, the jar of locust flower honey I gave him wasn’t even there."
"As soon as I gave it to him yesterday, Master Qin imdiately made all the flavors these little ancestors of ours like. He knows well enough. He listens to and rembers all the chit-chat we have over tea in the afternoons after working."
"Speaking of tea, did you know the cafeteria is giving out free cold tea today? I heard you get a free one with a purchase of over 25. You bought so many buns; didn’t you get a drink?" Mr. Qiu’s thoughts jumped suddenly.
"Cold tea? I told you to take Tutu and them down for a walk, did you slack off and not go out?" Grandma Ding’s gaze suddenly beca sharp, "The cold tea tastes so bad it’s even being talked about by the neighbors, Old Xu said so, he saw Luoluo making it this morning while having breakfast."
"Luoluo is sweet, but his skills are nowhere near his brother’s. However, I hear his homade lemon tea isn’t bad, and it’s already being served at the community center. If you want to drink, go buy it yourself; I’m not running around in this heat just for a drink."
With that, the buns in Grandma Ding’s hands were ready.
Grandma Ding gently coaxed her little granddaughter Miaomiao, urging her to open her mouth so she could quickly pop the small bun piece in.
Miaomiao, with her not-yet-full set of teeth, half-nibbled and half-bit, held it for a while, then suddenly started crying loudly.
"Not buns, not buns!" Miaomiao’s cries echoed around the living room.
Grandma Ding panicked, tasted a bit herself, and confird, "It’s maple syrup goat milk, the taste is right!"
"Not right, not right!" Miaomiao kept crying, "Want the previous ones, previous ones."
Just then, the second granddaughter, having eaten half her bun, also chid in, "Grandma, the buns from the day before yesterday tasted better."
"The day before yesterday’s, the day before yesterday’s," the little grandson parroted.
A few minutes later, all the kids started clamoring for the fernted rice with stead buns from the day before yesterday, including the eldest granddaughter who loves green bean cake and the eldest grandson who favors jujube cake.
Grandma Ding: Numb, all in vain, the locust flower honey wasted, let the world end.
Mr. Qiu, whose hearing was much poorer and soone who tolerated the grandchildren’s cries well, munched on a bun and said, "I also thought the fernted rice with stead buns from the day before yesterday were tastier."
"Shut up!"
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