Chapter 272

The happiness of the Qin family had just begun.

Longevity noodles were just an appetizer.

Considering that not everyone was Qin Luo, who could eat another meal after a bowl of chicken soup noodles, the longevity noodles Qin Huai boiled today were special New Year's Eve longevity noodles, a youth mini version, with a very small quantity.

People with a normal appetite would be half-full after eating a bowl of noodles and soup.

Master Qin and Grandma Qin were old, and their appetites were far from what they used to be, so their youth mini version of longevity noodles was even more super-reduced.

Not only were the longevity noodles a youth mini version, but the Four-Joy Tangyuan was also a youth mini version.

Of course, everyone wouldn't know about the small corner-cutting. Qin Luo didn't care, and Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong didn't discover at all that the super delicious noodles in front of them were the chicken soup noodles Qin Huai had made at the Cloud Canteen before, thinking they were new products learned in Gusu, just like the Four-Joy Tangyuan.

Qin Xiuli and Grandma Qin and others wouldn't know either; they would only feel that dim sum in big cities were all like this, with small portions.

He Cheng was the slowest eater.

It wasn't because his appetite was small. He Cheng, who was in the first year of high school like Qin Luo, had the biggest appetite among the Qin family members, slightly larger than Qin Luo's.

As for why Qin Huai knew He Cheng's appetite was slightly larger than Qin Luo's, that was because He Cheng ate half a bun more than Qin Luo during the New Year last year.

And that was just the first half; after He Cheng finished the first half at the Qin family's house, he still had to go to his grandfather's house to eat a few bites of the second half for the sake of it, so his appetite couldn't be underestimated.

A growing boy eats his father out of house and home. He Cheng, who was at the age of a growing boy, ate with the momentum of swallowing mountains and rivers, like a fierce tiger pouncing on food, and was not to be outdone.

He Cheng ate slowly entirely because he couldn't bear to finish.

The child was pitiful.

Throughout the first semester of high school, he either ate at home or ate in the cafeteria. Although He Cheng's high school was in the city, the food in the city's high school wouldn't be any better than in the county. Occasionally going to the Shaxian snacks at the school gate at night to have two baskets of steamed dumplings was considered improving the food.

For the past six months, He Cheng had been looking forward to the stars and the moon, looking forward to the sun coming out in the deep mountains, and finally looking forward to his dear cousin Qin Huai returning.

When eating fermented rice steamed buns in the morning, He Cheng was also maliciously targeted by Qin Luo, who gave him the two smallest ones.

At that time, Qin Luo felt that He Cheng was slacking off and not pouring water for Qin Huai, so she used the most extreme and vicious means to deal with her cousin. She picked and chose in a basket of steamed buns, and insisted on picking out two small ones from the buns of the same size that came off the assembly line for He Cheng.

He Cheng smacked his lips, feeling that he had already forgotten what the fermented rice steamed buns tasted like in the morning.

Anyway, it was delicious!

It smelled like wine, but didn't taste like it; it was sweet, soft, and at the same time chewy. Compared with the fermented rice steamed buns eaten in the morning, the white steamed buns sold in their school in the morning should simply be dragged out and beaten with 8,000 boards.

Those steamed buns were big and hard, dry and chewy, not fluffy at all, and after a few bites, he felt the bun crumbs sticking to his tongue and had to drink some water to wash them down.

Of course, this couldn't be blamed entirely on the school's steamed buns; the school's steamed buns still had advantages.

Cheap.

1.5 yuan each, big and solid. Those who knew it were steamed buns; those who didn't would think they were flour cakes. With He Cheng's appetite, two and a half steamed buns would make him roll his eyes.

He Cheng was drinking chicken soup.

Grandma Qin's chicken-raising level was first-class, and she would raise at least a dozen chickens every year. She bought chicks in early spring and raised them until the New Year.

From New Year's Eve to the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, there would be young hens that dedicated themselves to the New Year on the Qin family's dining table every day. Grandma Qin raised chickens well, and the meat of the young hens was tender, whether it was stewed in soup, braised in soy sauce, or made into white-cut chicken, it was very suitable.

Even the free-range eggs were more fragrant than others'.

Young hens on the dining table for the New Year, and old hens kept for laying eggs, was Grandma Qin's habit of raising chickens for many years.

This year, it could be considered that the family's veterans were sacrificed for Qin Huai's longevity noodles. Seven old hens, not one missing, all went into the pot.

Grandma Qin felt a bit of heartache when killing the chickens, thinking about whether to keep one for transition. Later, thinking it was needed by her precious grandson, the old hens could be considered to have died worthily, so she gritted her teeth and put them all in the pot.

Now it seemed that they had indeed died worthily.

He Cheng carefully drank the last sip of soup, and very unpromisingly deliberately raised the bowl to cover his face, secretly licking the edge of the bowl.

Too delicious.

The chicken soup itself was already very delicious, not to mention that this chicken soup now boiled noodles, realizing the wonderful fusion of carbohydrates and fat.

Thinking of the chewy noodles just now, He Cheng swallowed again, put down the bowl, restrained the urge to lick the whole bowl, opened his mouth and asked: "Brother, are there any more noodles? I want another bowl!"

On the Qin family's New Year's Eve dinner table, you could ask if you hadn't had enough, if there was more to add.

There was no such thing as fighting, smoke-filled, swords and shadows, intrigue, or secret plans. The Thirty-Six Stratagems, Sun Tzu's Art of War, and force values were all useless on the Qin family's New Year's Eve dinner table; the only thing that needed to be used was appetite.

Pastry was mainly about providing enough.

No need to worry about not having enough to eat, only worry about not being able to finish.

"Yes, but I don't suggest you eat it now. There is a lot of dim sum today; if you have another bowl, you won't be able to eat the dim sum. Eat the Four-Joy Tangyuan first. If you can still eat after tasting all the dim sum, go to the room and serve yourself noodles; they are in that large iron pot," Qin Huai sincerely advised.

This silly child, didn't he notice that no one else asked this question except him? Because everyone else started eating Four-Joy Tangyuan, only he was still foolishly savoring the longevity noodles.

Qin Huai had previously graded his dim sum. Although many dim sum were B-grade, there was also a gap between B-grade and B-grade.

Returning home for the New Year, without capable helpers around, many dim sum would be cut.

Longevity noodles were cut very severely.

Longevity noodles had two major essences: one was the noodles, and the other was the soup. When at Huang's, Zheng Siyuan loved eating longevity noodles in the morning, mainly because of the soup. The high soup used to boil the longevity noodles was personally clarified by Huang Jia.

Although the ranking was at the bottom, Huang Jia was at least a famous master's disciple who could be on the famous chef list, and his soup-clarifying skills were naturally beyond doubt.

Just that pot of soup was something many chefs with average talent couldn't make in their entire lives.

Grandma Qin's chicken soup wasn't boiled badly, but it was just ordinary chicken soup.

Plus there was a lot of dim sum to be made today, and it was impossible to make every one of them so refined, so today's longevity noodles were actually only—

【Longevity noodles C+ grade】

With C+ grade longevity noodles, he was secretly licking the bowl. Qin Huai felt that his cousin probably didn't have the stomach capacity to eat a second bowl of longevity noodles today.

Qin Huai looked down at the Four-Joy Tangyuan in his bowl.

【Four-Joy Tangyuan B grade】

The Four-Joy Tangyuan could perform stably, which was inseparable from Wang Shen's excellent meat-mincing technique.

As a specialized meat-mincer who made hand-beaten beef balls for at least 360 days out of 365 days a year, Wang Shen's knife skills might not be very high, but she must have quite a few insights when it comes to mincing meat. Qin Huai felt that Wang Shen minced the meat well when he saw it in the kitchen in the afternoon.

Wang Shen didn't know what Four-Joy Tangyuan was, but Wang Shen knew what kind of meat filling Qin Huai wanted.

Qin Huai took a bite of the pure meat-filled Tangyuan.

Delicious.

The essence of pure meat-filled Tangyuan lies in the freshness of the meat, the good mincing of the meat filling, and the seasoning shouldn't be flashy; the overall taste should be relatively fresh and elegant.

Although today's pure meat-filled Tangyuan was still as plain and unremarkable as ever, set off by the other three sweet fillings that were competing for beauty and flashy, it looked like a passerby in a movie without a single line, but it was still a qualified pure meat-filled Tangyuan.

It's just that it was a 75-point Tangyuan, and the other three sweet fillings were 80-85 point Tangyuan.

Qin Huai felt that today's meat-filled Tangyuan was delicious because it was better than Qin Huai had expected.

Wang Shen truly understood meat filling too well. Qin Huai caught a glimpse of He Cheng starting to eat Tangyuan. He Cheng scooped up the meat filling in the first bite, but was stopped by Qin Luo, who told him to eat the sweet ones first and then the salty ones in the middle.

He Cheng was indeed guilty of brewing tea poorly, but it wasn't a crime worthy of death; he still had to eat the Tangyuan well.

After eating a bean paste-filled Tangyuan, He Cheng was stunned.

After eating a sesame sugar-filled Tangyuan, He Cheng was even more stunned.

After eating a meat-filled Tangyuan, He Cheng wasn't as stunned as before.

After eating the last fruit-filled Tangyuan, He Cheng wanted to cry a little.

He hated why he wasn't the Qin Huai adopted by his parents back then; that way he would be Qin Huai's own younger brother.

After eating the longevity noodles and Four-Joy Tangyuan, Grandma Qin felt that she was full.

Dim sum made of glutinous rice was a bit filling. Grandma Qin said that she was old and couldn't overeat like in previous years. The internet said that old people should maintain their health and eat less and more often.

Grandma Qin had quit late-night snacks for the past two years and wouldn't secretly get up in the middle of the night to heat up braised pork to eat.

Yes, Grandma Qin had the hobby of getting up in the middle of the night to eat braised pork and preserved vegetable braised pork in previous years.

Grandma Qin put down her bowl, picked up her chopsticks, and prepared to eat two bites of the dishes she cooked symbolically, and then end today's perfect New Year's Eve dinner.

Seeing Grandma pick up her chopsticks, Qin Huai knew that Grandma was probably full.

"Grandma," Qin Huai reminded, "there's no need for you to taste the other dim sum on the table. The Chen Pi tea can be left to drink when you're thirsty while playing mahjong at night, and the three-diced buns can be eaten tomorrow morning, but you must taste the fruit-shaped buns tonight."

"This is my signature dish at Huang's, which was featured in a magazine," Qin Huai began to boast.

"Yes, yes, yes. Grandma, didn't I take photos for you? The queue at the entrance of Huang's is so long, and people start queuing before dawn every day, just to eat brother's fruit-shaped buns."

Grandma Qin suddenly felt that seven-tenths full wasn't full, and nine-tenths full was just right.

Grandma Qin squinted her eyes and looked around the table, not recognizing the fruit-shaped buns: "Which dim sum is the fruit-shaped bun?"

"This one!" Qin Luo stood up directly and took one for Grandma Qin, very thoughtfully picking the ugliest one, "Grandma, you can just break it open and eat it!"

"Yes, yes, yes, taste the flavor," Qin Huai also echoed frantically.

Qin Xiuli had noticed the fruit-shaped buns on the table long ago; among a table of beautiful dim sum, it was the ugliest.

While eating the last Tangyuan, Qin Xiuli whispered to He Hua: "I remember Huai Huai attended an art interest class when he was a child, right? This learning is useless."

"Keep your voice down, don't let Huai Huai hear you."

Qin Huai didn't hear the whispers of Qin Xiuli and her husband, but he heard Grandma Qin's whispers.

"Old man, I remember Huai Huai learned to draw when he was a child, right? He drew quite well. That Principal Qin from the welfare home even showed me. It was colorful, so why is this now..."

Qin Huai:...

Grandma, don't you call the kettle black; your aesthetics are also a bit worrying.

"This is called art. Haven't you seen it when swiping videos? Abstract art!" Master Qin was very certain.

Grandma Qin didn't understand, and could only look at the abstract art carefully for a while before feeling that she might really not understand art, and that the colorful ones were better looking.

Grandma Qin broke the fruit-shaped bun open with force, but didn't break it well, and the meat juice flowed along the dough. Grandma Qin hurriedly leaned over to suck it.

Instantly, Grandma Qin's eyes widened.

As a dim sum, the flavor of the fruit-shaped bun was very layered.

It was the skin of the flour fruit, slightly hard, which could be considered to have a unique texture, and it didn't taste bad to eat. If you only ate the skin in the first bite, you would feel that this was a very standard, chewy white flour dim sum.

Peeling off the outer layer that was deliberately kneaded to be a bit hard for shaping, the inner skin also had different textures.

The middle skin was fluffy, and the innermost skin was fluffy and soaked with soup.

Just like a bun skin, what some people loved most was the circle of skin closest to the meat filling of a large meat bun, soaked with soup, oily and fragrant, feeling that it was the essence.

The innermost layer of the fruit-shaped bun was undoubtedly a plus version of the large meat bun skin.

It looked oily, but the taste of the carrot puree diluted this oiliness very well.

It was the sweet fragrance of the meat juice, the happiness of scraping a layer of vegetable soup with a steamed bun and eating it in one bite, the perfect combination of fat and carbohydrates, and the true essence of the fruit-shaped bun.

It was impossible for a normal person to eat the essence in one bite when eating a fruit-shaped bun.

Grandma Qin ate the essence in one bite.

She was eating it for the first time.

Grandma Qin had never understood how anyone would be willing to queue to eat. Queuing was so boring, not to mention that standing for a long time was tiring, and her waist would hurt after standing for a long time.

When Grandma Qin was young, she hated queuing the most, but she always had to queue. Queuing to pay grain, queuing to buy things at the supply and marketing cooperative in town during the New Year, queuing to take an ox cart, queuing to take a bus, and queuing to buy train tickets was even more necessary.

Sometimes when Grandma Qin was surfing the internet at home and swiping short videos, seeing everyone's evaluation of a restaurant's explosion was queuing for how many hours, Grandma Qin felt it was absurd.

She wasn't even willing to queue to receive eggs.

These young people in big cities were too idle, didn't they have to go to work? Was the food in that restaurant that delicious? Queuing for several hours to eat.

Now, Grandma Qin understood.

What were a few hours?

What old people lacked the least was time!

Queuing before dawn?

What a coincidence, I, the old lady, wake up before dawn every day, and I, the old lady, really don't have to go to work. My profession matches, I can queue!

Grandma Qin gnawed on it in large mouthfuls. Originally, she was just afraid of wasting the meat juice that flowed out and used her mouth to catch it, but as a result, after catching it, this small piece of fruit-shaped bun was gone.

"Hiccup." Grandma Qin let out a very unhealthy hiccup.

Looking at the remaining half of the fruit-shaped bun, Grandma Qin stuffed it to Master Qin: "You eat the rest."

Master Qin took the fruit-shaped bun.

Master Qin originally wanted to eat the dream-fulfilling sesame cake; he felt that the sesame cake looked delicious, golden and crispy with sesame seeds sprinkled on it, and it would be beautiful to take a bite full of meat filling.

Master Qin understood sesame cakes very well; he knew that this kind of sesame cake should be eaten while hot, and it wouldn't be delicious when cold.

It was a pity that his old lady gave him the unfinished fruit-shaped bun, and he wouldn't be able to eat the sesame cake after eating the fruit-shaped bun.

The old lady was really something; if she couldn't finish it, she could leave it for tomorrow. Weren't the dim sum on New Year's Eve every year like this? She insisted on stuffing it to him. Forget it, since he took it, he would eat it.

Master Qin took a bite.

Master Qin forgot about the dream-fulfilling sesame cake.

Sesame cake? What sesame cake? What is a sesame cake? Is it important?

Master Qin took a big bite of the fruit-shaped bun.

This was the ugly... dim sum he loved to eat.

What was this dim sum called again?

Fruit... bun?

What Qin Xiong loved to eat most these years was the fruit-shaped bun!

(End of chapter)