Chapter 144

·

·

·

Protagonist:

Song Miao

Song Miao took a look; the seasonings were all there, so she said, "Then I'll pan-fry some century eggs and make a dish, but this rice is cold and hard; water can only soften it on the surface, not soak through. The three of you have been traveling all this time, hungry for half a day, your stomachs are completely empty, and you can't handle eating like this. Let me cook some congee; just wait a moment and it'll be ready."

The official post station kitchen keeps a residual fire year-round; Da Da was quick to catch on, and went to stoke the fire as soon as the things were set down.

Three stoves connected; Song Miao had him light the left and right ones, while the middle one only burned a single piece of firewood, borrowing heat from the stoves on either side.

Half a pot of rice was left from daytime; it had already been soaked in hot water by that Wu official. Song Miao set the whole pot directly onto the left stove, and added a bit more hot water to cook congee.

Plain white congee naturally isn't good to eat on its own, but pairing it only with fried eggs is a bit too simple.

She thought for a moment; it just so happened that today the Xiang family's cook sent over two jars of pickled vegetables, among which the pickled papaya and pickled ginger can accompany congee, especially that pickled garlic chive — she tasted it this afternoon, and it was pickled just right, both sour and crisp, and carrying the garlic chive's unique fragrance, not smelly-fragrant like garlic, but fresh and pungently spicy, with a heavier flavor than scallion fragrance; whether accompanying congee or pairing with rice, it is a supreme delicacy.

Still, there needs to be a bit of oil and meat, otherwise it's too bland.

Seeing the fire had caught, Song Miao arranged for Da Da to take a bowl back to the room to fetch some pickled vegetables, and also bring the small bottle of Huangpi fruit jam she brought.

While waiting for him to return, she set pots on both the middle and right stoves, poured plenty of oil in both and let it heat up, only then starting to crack eggs.

There were no other dishes, only eggs, and speed was best; besides frying eggs, she could only think of a way to make something with a stronger flavor to go with the congee.

She thought of a sweet-and-sour dish, called Five Willow Fried Eggs.

Although the materials at hand weren't exactly the same — only pickled vegetables, and because the season hadn't arrived, lacking pickled cucumber and red papaya, only three kinds — she could still make do, just barely putting together a passable appearance.

People who've been hungry for most of the day definitely can eat it.

Song Miao first took several eggs, two per bowl, separated the whites and yolks, beat the whites into fine dense bubbles, then put the yolks back in — this method was a shortcut taken for speed.

Before long Da Da returned holding the ingredients; Song Miao portioned out some pickled garlic chives to leave for the three to eat plain as a palate cleanser, then cut the pickled garlic chives, pickled papaya, and pickled ginger into fine threads, mixed maltose, white vinegar, Zhejiang vinegar, salt, and water into a sweet-and-sour sauce, and also poured in some Huangpi fruit jam to blend into the sauce.

By now the middle stove was already half-hot; she separately cracked a few more eggs into it, using that half-hot thick clear oil to immersion-fry; because the fire was extremely low, when the eggs went in only fine slight bubbles emerged, not even needing to watch the fire, just letting them slow-cook on their own.

The right pot, because it had a high flame, the oil was already hot enough to give off blue smoke; Song Miao lifted the fine mesh strainer spoon, and from half-height poured in the beaten egg whites.

The moment the egg whites touched the hot oil, they instantly puffed up, blowing out big big bubbles, and emitting an extremely rich fragrance — at this moment she carefully poured the egg yolks into the exact center, waited a few breaths, flipped them over, and fried the other side.

Two eggs per bowl; she fried them separately, fried each batch done, then freed up the pot, leaving a bit of bottom oil to stir-fry the three cut willows.

Once the fragrance came out from stir-frying, she put in the prepared sweet-and-sour Huangpi fruit jam sauce — because they were all pickled vegetables, there was only sourness, almost no sweetness, this bowl of sauce was more sweet than sour.

High flame burning, the sauce quickly boiled and thickened; within it the sweet-sour fragrance, plus that special fruit aroma of the Huangpi jam, different from the clear fragrance of citrus oils, a kind of fragrance hard to describe, richer than citrus, with a kind of mellow pungent sensation.

The kitchen wasn't large to begin with; inside, six people were suddenly squeezed in, so naturally no one could escape this fragrance.

Da Da was fine; although greedy, he had eaten his fill of dinner after all; only those three from the Water Supervision Bureau who came from afar were originally starving; smelling this flavor, they had been sitting at the side on a small table, craning their necks in anticipation; now they could no longer hold back, and one after another all stood up.

Unknown which one started it, seemed to be that "five-or-six-tenths full" official — he unconsciously first moved his feet toward the stove direction, after standing up his feet shuffled a bit, then shuffled a bit more, looking like he was pacing, unknown when, he had already arrived standing at the stove side.

Very quickly, one standing became three standing in a row.

When Song Miao looked up and saw this row of heads with eyes glowing with hunger and greed, she instantly froze for a moment, and hurriedly said, "Just a moment more — standing too close, sirs, be careful of oil splatter!"

Just then Han Li returned with tea; seeing the three clustered here, he also said, "Why not go sit in the outer hall and wait? You standing here, how can the cook properly work?"

That Wu official instantly smiled sheepishly, but hurriedly said, "Right here is fine, we'll sit and wait."

The other two also chimed in agreement.

One said, "Exactly, exactly! Going out would require serving dishes, wouldn't that be trouble, and far too!"

Another said, "Young Lady finishes cooking, just shout once and I'll come carry the pots and serve the dishes!"

Although not urged, seeing the three looking green with hunger, Song Miao still felt bad, so she simply had Da Da first serve them each a bowl of congee, and also served out the clear-oil immersion-fried eggs, drizzled a bit of soy sauce on top, sprinkled a small pinch of Sichuan pepper powder, and brought this small plate over to them.

The congee was still extremely hot, not good to eat; the three made polite yielding sounds with their mouths, but almost simultaneously reached for the eggs first.

At the first try, the Wu official was so startled he directly sat up straight from his chair — that egg was trembling, one careless move and it slid back into the plate, nearly getting pierced by the chopsticks — he hurriedly used the bowl in his hand to catch it.

After catching it back, he took a bite, and his two little eyes blinked and blinked, instantly blinking into a bit of a loss.

Good egg of an egg!

That stove bottom has always burned a low fire, the oil just warm-warm immersion-frying, this kind of "pan-fried" egg is smooth without a single air pore; the side touching the pot bottom fried into an extremely shallow pale yellow, fragrant, but not the fragrance from high-heat frying, rather the pure fragrance of egg white.

This egg white is tight and tender; the side facing up fully immersed in oil is even more delicate and soft, a thin layer of egg white coagulated on top, like a semi-transparent mirror, revealing the yolk color inside.

Half-runny yolk egg; just biting down the skin won't break immediately; that yolk slowly gets pressed out; the coagulated part tastes very yolk-like, the half-coagulated half-runny part carries an even more distinct egg sweetness and egg fragrance.

Seasonings only used soy sauce and Sichuan pepper; that soy sauce was clearly specially blended, saltiness lighter, umami more obvious, together with the Sichuan pepper bits it very well fulfilled the role of enhancing flavor and adding fragrance, but didn't steal a single bit of presence, instead especially honest and resigned acting as a foil.

Water-poached eggs can't achieve this tenderness and fragrance; right now although watching that young lady make it with eyes wide open, after it's done it looks like just a pretty egg, once in the mouth, even if you praise it to the heavens it's just egg flavor, but that egg fragrance and egg taste is just especially good.

The Wu official had more or less padded his stomach with a bowl of hot-water-soaked rice, able to spare half a brain to seriously taste the flavor; seeing the other two wolfing it down whole, looking like they only knew it was delicious, not knowing where it was delicious, he felt both anxious and regretful in his heart.

Aiya!

Two young lads, tongues extremely coarse, simply don't know the merits of this fried egg! Simply cannot appreciate such a good egg!!

Falling into your mouths, what a waste!!!

The Wu official couldn't care to think further, hurriedly went to pick up the next egg — eat one more, and save one egg from being swallowed into the belly by someone who doesn't know quality.

He secretly hated himself for that bowl of hot-water-soaked rice he ate just now.

What's so good about soaking? What's so good about padding? What's so good about half-full? Clearing that space to hold this oil-immersed egg wouldn't be better?

However, just after eating two, another dish carrying steaming sweet-sour flavor was placed on that small table in front.

Song Miao introduced to everyone: "This is Three Willow Fried Eggs; the method isn't very proper, but the taste should be not bad."

The Wu official swallowed the oil-immersed egg in his mouth and looked; he saw that plate of eggs fried bizarrely fluffy — this is the true hot-oil fragrant frying; the outer layer of egg threads too many, too fine, too chaotic, with "skirts", not like a honeycomb, like fine nets entangled together, lying in red-red, bright-bright, one look and you know it's very thick sauce, on top also wrapped with who knows what threads.

He couldn't care to ask what "Three Willows" was, hurriedly picked up a fried egg for himself.

Just as it entered his mouth, before he could even eat, the Wu official's tongue was simply like it got struck once — what he ate before was hot-water-soaked rice, oil-immersed eggs, the former bland, the latter although fragrant, that fragrance was natural, peaceful, where is it like this seasoning, big sour, big sweet, big fragrance.

Bite once, a "shasha" sound rings in the ears from inside the mouth, biting oneself hearing, mouth connected to ears, that sound excessively clear, making one, besides the mouth, from hearing also increase the perception of crispness.

The egg white outer layer fried to extreme crispness, egg white thousands of threads, both scorched and crisp and fragrant; when biting, that "skirt" saturated with sauce gets squeezed out all at once, sour, sweet, fragrant; chew a bit more, the inner egg white parts fried out holes, very fragrant, with a bit of tenderness; the center yolk is half-coagulated, bite once, soft, bite again, already starting to flow.

The flavor of this egg was quite substantial, possessing sour, sweet, fragrant, and crispy notes all at once; the burnt-fragrant pan-fried egg held equal status with the sauce here, becoming the carrier of that sour-sweet taste, and with the pickled ginger, pickled garlic chives, and pickled papaya, when chewing these three shreds, beyond the sour fragrance there was also a faint spiciness, each shred having its own character, making the flavor even richer.

Soaked in the egg's soup juice, the bland congee instantly gained flavor.

That sour-sweet balance was particularly well-adjusted, but with the three shreds in it, overall the sourness exceeded the sweetness, yet not to the point of being overly sour, making it completely un-greasy to eat, only feeling appetizing.

The congee was still somewhat hot; Wu Gong wanted to wolf it down but feared burning his mouth, so he blew and ate at the same time, eating in a flustered rush.

Simply a terrifyingly good rice-accompaniment dish.

Right now there wasn't even rice, just mere congee, which stood even less chance against it.

Three people ate the congee made from half a pot of rice, ten-odd eggs, spending only the time of a teacup — if not for the congee being too hot, later stirring it in cold water to cool taking a bit of time, it fundamentally wouldn't have needed this long, at most half a teacup's time to finish.

Eating to the end, Wu Gong saw the bit of leftover sauce in the Three Willow Fried Eggs plate and felt a pang of regret in his heart, when suddenly he heard a voice say: "What a pity, if only there were a pancake, letting me wrap up this plate-bottom sauce would be so good — wouldn't even need to wash the plate!"

He felt a deep resonance, about to nod, but suddenly sensed something amiss; looking up, he saw the two young men on left and right both staring dejectedly at their own bowls — each bowl still had one oil-immersed fried egg.

"Gongshi, you've only eaten one bowl of hot-water-soaked rice, then drank two bowls of porridge in a row, and many eggs, especially since those eggs are oil-fried, not suitable to eat too much — this one, why not hand it over to your subordinate to help resolve?"

The other person then hurriedly scrambled to say: "No need, don't force yourself, I remember you said on the road you dislike that Sichuan pepper numbing-spicy taste..."

"Only too much makes it numbing-spicy; today just a tiny bit, called flavor-enhancing, particularly fragrant, not forced at all, I'll do it!"

"Forget it, still let me do it!"

The two were still arguing seriously, about to find Wu Gong to arbitrate, just as they turned their heads, they saw Gongshi with a fully satisfied look, mouth chewing away, sparse beard twitching with each chew.

Seeing them look over, Wu Gong tilted his neck back, throat moved, slowly swallowed the food, then lifted the bowl bottom in his hand to show, laughing "hehe": "No matter, one small fragrant egg, this old man can do work and can eat rice — neither needs others' help!"

He was nearing Heaven's Mandate in age, had rushed about all day, actually already extremely exhausted, but still forced his spirits up, first sent the two subordinates back to rest, himself then searched around, only saw Dabing tidying the stove, hurriedly asked: "Xiao Xiao child, where are that young Han and that cooking young lady just now?"

Dabing's hands couldn't spare a moment, so he pursed his lips, gesturing toward the door: "Young Master Han called the young lady to speak there."

Wu Gong, full from eating, brain turning slow, momentarily hadn't thought of why they'd go to the door to speak, but person already stood up and walked out.

Just stepped out the door, heard that young lady speaking.

"... Because it's big-pot rice, best to have some with strength, those who've cooked before preferred, never cooked also doesn't matter, but absolutely cannot act on their own; people come, I must first make them memorize rules clearly, then draw topics to test, only after passing can they be used — therefore best to give me the people a few days in advance, lest hasty employment cause flustered chaos."

Immediately following was Han Lidao: "The yamen's people are slow to give, regardless of whether they can conscript them on time, latest by the day after tomorrow, I will definitely give you those twenty people first."

— Such words, why go to the door to speak? Could it be fear of disturbing us few eating?

Wu Gong's feet walked faster than his brain, already approached and asked: "How so, the yamen won't give people?"

Han Li simply paraphrased that Qian Kongmu's daytime words once.

Wu Gong immediately coldly laughed, said: "This is a treacherous clerk wielding power to deceive superiors! Such people, I've seen many! Long heard Cen Dezhang this person's personality is soft, has a nickname called 'Dough Figure Zhang', truly this nickname isn't called wrong!"

Also said: "Tomorrow I'll go sit in the yamen and urge him!"

Han Li helplessly said: "Gongshi even if you sit a day, if the bottom doesn't do work what can be done?"

Wu Gong sighed: "Also no choice, but besides urging with more force, we're merely support, have no real authority, can't even act as supervisors, what else can be done?"

Also said: "Me being there is always better than not being there, ultimately can give them a warning, they won't dare drag it too long."

Han Li then said: "I have another idea, currently drafting regulations, only right now too late, tomorrow again discuss with Gongshi."

Here three people speaking, separated by a street, in that Xie Family Residence, Xiang Yuan was also questioning the household steward.

"Has the Capital reply letter arrived? In your view, what sort of person is that Song Xiaoniangzi?"