Chapter 169

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

That very night, Song Miao finished preparing those lettuce stems with the big flatbreads before finally going to rest.

The next day at cockcrow she rose; she had just finished breakfast when Ma Shenzǐ arrived with a mighty entourage of over twenty people, having them wait at the gate first while she went in to report to Song Miao.

"Times are bad right now; they're like me — no craft to speak of, living purely by brute strength. Hearing there was such a rare opening, every single one of them wanted to fight for it."

"This batch are all honest, familiar folk from the Washing Clothes Workshop with years of acquaintance; I can vouch for them — every one has clean hands and feet and works hard. But since this is Kitchen duty after all, there must be other rules, so I specially brought a few extra for the Young Lady to pick from."

Ma Shenzǐ gave a brief introduction: twenty-six people in total. Apart from Zhang Siniang, whose agreed hour with Song Miao was the Hour of the Rabbit and who had not yet arrived, the rest were all twenty-two or older, the eldest forty-six.

"Though she's a bit older in years, she's exceptionally steady, does things properly and carefully; I thought to bring her for the Young Lady to have a look."

Speaking to this point, Ma Shenzǐ added specially: "Young Lady, just have a look; once today's trial work is done, tell me in the evening — even if not a single one passes it doesn't matter, I'll pass the word — failing a trial is the most ordinary thing, they won't have a second word to say!"

Seeing Ma Shenzǐ work this fast and thoroughly, how could Song Miao not be satisfied.

She thanked her and had the people brought in; at a glance, every single one had their hair wrapped and legs bound, not only narrow sleeves but also sleeve guards, fingernails trimmed clean.

Song Miao then led them to the Drying Yard and first had everyone line up in five rows by height.

Though heights and builds differed, once formed up they barely counted as orderly.

After a round of self-introductions, Song Miao said: "Presumably Ma Shenzǐ has already told you all — this is the River Canal Kitchen duty. Because it's big-pot rice, at minimum hundreds eat, at most likely thousands. The busyness and toil are unimaginable; from dawn to dusk there's no stopping, every detail must follow rules — once something goes wrong or is missed, it's not just one person delayed, it's everyone else delayed."

"Think: if you're assigned the firewood-splitting duty and split too little or too slowly, the fire-tenders wait for you, the stove masters wait for you; if the delay is bad the rice and dishes don't cook, the servers wait for you, the people outside queuing have no food, how do they work the afternoon on empty stomachs? If they eat undercooked food and ruin their stomachs, who can bear that responsibility?"

She spoke a few simple sentences, breaking down the critical points of every stove link and explaining them to the crowd, finally saying: "Though this duty has a bit of a subsidy, it's not much; the work is miscellaneous and heavy. If any Young Lady or Auntie can't manage things at home, you may withdraw right now, no need to force it — once you're in, other duties you might leave anytime, but our Kitchen duty here, without urgent cause, even leaving isn't easy."

These words finished, the five rows of people, every one deathly quiet, not daring to let a hair fly out of place, as if afraid that an accidental sound would make Song Miao think they intended to quit.

Song Miao waited a few breaths; seeing no one speak, she stepped forward and asked each person their name and background one by one.

After this round of questioning she had matched faces to names; then she called over Da Bing who was standing to one side, introduced him to everyone, and repeated the fifty-two rules and instructions she had given the twelve kitchen hands last time, finally saying: "Today you must memorize all rules; if there's anything you don't know, just ask this little master Liu Bing."

She also instructed that besides memorizing rules they must peel lettuce stems, pointing at Ma Shenzǐ: "This time Ma Shenzǐ will temporarily act as foreman, helping assign each person's share of lettuce stems to peel; tomorrow we'll form groups and elect group leaders."

Only after everything was properly arranged did Song Miao leave.

She had barely taken a few steps when everyone behind her either swarmed around Ma Shenzǐ or clustered around Da Bing; this one called: "Younger Brother, I memorized a lot of those fifty-two rules just now, only I can't recall whether that dish needs washing three times or five! You teach me!"

That one said: "Little Master Liu, is the cutting board red for raw meat and original color for cooked meat and vegetables? I didn't get that wrong, right? The knife handles are the same, yes or no??"

Another urged Ma Shenzǐ: "Old sister, hurry up, divide them up, don't delay our peeling; peel early and we'll have more spare time to memorize rules — aiyo, I'd rather peel fifty-two catties if it means memorizing a few fewer rules!"

Ma Shenzǐ hadn't answered yet when someone at the side said: "Quiet, quiet, don't let that Song Xiaoniangzi hear, or she'll think we don't follow rules!"

The one who didn't want to memorize rules felt a chill down her back, hurriedly tiptoed to peer over heads; though she didn't see Song Miao, she did see Da Bing at the side.

Her heart jumped; she loudly said: "Aiyo, though it's fifty-two rules, the number sounds like a lot, actually every clause is extremely useful, not a single one too many! Once I've memorized them, I'll use them cooking at home too, definitely clean! Clean is good, clean is good ah!"

There was a large scale nearby; Ma Shenzǐ led the crowd in dividing the lettuce stems, and soon Da Bing finally used the proper business to extricate himself, only saying he'd explain all fifty-two rules two more times later; for now he came over to teach everyone how to peel the lettuce stems.

Hearing that the outer skin must also be kept, only removing the middle layer of white coarse stem, the crowd reacted completely differently from the kitchen hands last time — every one responded very loudly, and someone even asked: "Little Master Liu, what is this lettuce stem skin used for? In the past at home, aside from the tender tip bit of skin, the rest was all discarded; if there's a tasty way to cook it, tell us too, so when we make this stuff ourselves later we won't waste it!"

Da Bing said: "Song Xiaoniangzi said it's for making Su Ye."

And: "This time half the peeled lettuce stems go into the Su Gang for pickling, half for drying into Wan Lv Gan; Song Niangzi instructed us to be quick with hands and feet, get it handled early, otherwise left two days — one, it occupies the big Drying Yard too long inconveniently; two, the lettuce stems won't be fresh anymore."

A group of newly arrived Young Ladies and Aunties chorused agreement.

All were used to doing work; Da Bing explained simply once, demonstrated once, and they got it at a glance. While peeling they each muttered under their breath, asking each other about the fifty-two rules, and vied to call "Little Master Liu," "Little Master," "Master," even later someone blurted out "Liu Ge," all scrambling to have Liu Bing come to their side and check if this or that rule they'd memorized was wrong.

The crowd sat quite close, barely a zhang square of space; yet in just half a day, Da Bing shuttling through this tiny little world had genuinely run up a feeling of crossing mountains and fording rivers.

Barely catching a breath, he felt his saliva dried up, legs sore not to mention; because a crowd of Aunties and sisters kept calling him "Brother" this, "Master" that nonstop, he couldn't help touching his chin, as if he'd already grown a very reliable long beard.

Here Liu Bing was busy; at the other end, Song Miao had just come out the front hall when Zhang Siniang entered the gate carrying a basket on her back.

Seeing Song Miao, she hurried forward to greet her, then turned her body to the side: "Song Niangzi, I brought some big shrimp along; should I take them straight to the Kitchen inside?"

Song Miao was somewhat surprised and asked: "Where did the shrimp come from?"

Zhang Siniang was also very proud: "If I didn't say the Young Lady has good luck! Over at Erli Dam there's a pond farmer who raised a whole huge pond of shrimp — today's his birthday, a familiar neighbor of mine happened to be sending his daughter and son-in-law back to celebrate, and didn't charge much."

"It just so happened that on the road today I ran into these two coming out to deliver goods; two wine shops both said business has been bad lately and refused to take them, leaving two buckets."

"I looked — they were plump and big — so I said I'd buy; the two of them said bringing them back they'd just die, couldn't fetch a price in the Fangzi either, and it would delay going back today to handle the elder's birthday, so they half-sold half-gave them to me!"

"The Young Lady taught me so many things yesterday; it's just not convenient to take me as an apprentice, and I couldn't bring myself to bring chicken and cut meat to formally acknowledge a master; sending a few shrimp, not expensive, to express my heart — that should be fine, right?"

Song Miao stepped forward to look; though not as pretty as the ones He Qi sent last time, each shrimp was spirited, vying to jump outward.

Calculating the time, she always felt Han Li and the others would return in a few days; not knowing the exact hour, she planned to prepare some convenient food in advance.

Originally she wanted to make some Jiang Cai, but if everyone returned at midnight, Jiang Cai's saltiness would inevitably be heavy, eating it would require drinking more water, affecting rest; seeing these shrimp now was like a pillow appearing just as she grew drowsy — perfect for another convenient dish.

But shrimp like this, one knows, won't be too cheap.

She smiled and said: "No need to quote a price; in a bit I'll ask the market price at the Fangzi and pay you accordingly — this isn't just for me to eat, I cook for everyone at the Du Shui Jian, we all eat together; with your family circumstances, can you afford to support this many people?"

And: "You came yesterday to help me, I haven't even had a chance to calculate your wages yet, how come you're giving a return gift instead?"

Speaking to this point, she held the basket and helped Zhang Siniang unload it from her shoulder, saying: "Waiting a while; when you truly learn something, then make a full table of thanksgiving banquet — I'll definitely come eat!"

Zhang Siniang reddened, hurried forward to hug the bamboo basket, snatched it: "I'll carry! I'll carry, Young Lady don't snatch my work!"

In her heart she thought: Truly my years of sincere incense-burning and rituals were not wrong, always harboring good intentions and doing good deeds was not wrong; now ancestors bless, heaven pities, letting me meet such a good Young Lady; if this leads to a good path, never mind one thanksgiving banquet, however I thank her it won't be too much!

Presently the two reached the back kitchen; because Song Miao had agreed with that Zhang Cook, among these ingredients ordinary things she could use freely for cooking for the Du Shui Jian crowd, only mutton, chicken, duck and such good meats and poultry couldn't be used much, lest he have trouble arranging the rest of the people's meals.

At this moment she rummaged once, took out a large piece of pork fat, also picked a large handful of Xiao Qin Cai and set it aside, then went to examine the shrimp carefully.

Different from what Song Miao originally thought, the two buckets of shrimp were actually two different species.

One kind had thin shells and thick meat, shrimp color a pale grey-green.

The other kind was black with a hint of red, the shell extremely hard — even Song Miao had never seen it, couldn't help asking a question.

Zhang Siniang said: "That person said it's our local native species, rare elsewhere, very strange — shell both hard and thick; every year around Beginning of Summer there's shrimp roe; the meat isn't as tender and sweet as other river shrimp, but that shrimp roe is delicious!"

She added: "I ate them once when I was young. If you don't crack the shell, the flavor doesn't penetrate well; once cracked, the meat turns coarse, so they're not as tasty as the other kind. But these shrimp are very lively—they won't die even if kept for two or three days."

She said this, pointing to the relatively blue-gray shrimp on the other side.

Hearing this, Song Miao thought for a moment and quickly arranged separate fates for the two kinds of shrimp.

She first heated a pot of oil, had Zhang Siniang wash the blue-gray shrimp and the small celery clean, removing all the shrimp shells, while she herself selected the nicest spot of the pork fat and cut it into cubes, chopping it semi-fine. Once the shrimp meat was shelled, half was pressed into a paste, and the other half was cut into small granules separately from the celery stalks. She minced the pork fat and shrimp paste together, mixing them with celery granules, shrimp granules, egg white, salt, a tiny bit of Sichuan pepper powder, and all the other condiments, beating them evenly.

By then the oil was half-hot. She called Zhang Siniang over and said: "This dish is called Shrimp Jujube. It's actually best made in winter: first, because water chestnuts are available then; second, there's another method where water chestnuts are minced and mixed in, making the Shrimp Jujube especially sweet. Some versions wrap a layer of bean curd skin around them before frying, which is even more fragrant. But today we can't find bean curd skin, so for convenience we'll just do it this way."

"This food suits a simmering pot in winter. Now that the weather is hot, eating a pot isn't good. Add some celery and make a soup—it has both meat and vegetables, and it's quick to make. Since the broth is clear, it's easy on the stomach. It's a pretty good side dish."

After speaking, she mentioned a few points to note. Taking advantage of the right oil temperature, she put the shrimp paste into a funnel and pressed out one Shrimp Jujube after another, each shaped like a large date.

It was clear oil. As each Shrimp Jujube went into the pot, bubbles soon appeared around them. Before long, the whole pot of oil was gurgling and bubbling as they fried.

The first fry was at a not-too-high oil temperature—just enough for chopsticks to poke in and produce small bubbles—to set the shape. At this point, the aroma of the Shrimp Jujubes spread bit by bit.

Once this fry was done, the Shrimp Jujubes had turned a pale golden yellow. She added more firewood, stoked a big fire to raise the oil temperature, and refried them once with hot oil.

This time, the frying aroma turned intense. The minced shrimp meat and pork fat, fried through over high heat, released the lard fragrance and shrimp fragrance together, carrying a hint of Sichuan pepper's pungency.

If the first fry's aroma was gentle, like a murmuring stream that made one want to lean in and sip, then the refrying's aroma was like stormy seas breaking the shore—its force was surging, leaving one's nose nowhere to hide.

The fried Shrimp Jujubes glowed golden-red, the red being the pale red of the shrimp meat, looking especially tempting.

Song Miao speared one with a bamboo skewer and handed it to Zhang Siniang, saying: "You try it first."

Zhang Siniang hurriedly took it.

By then the Shrimp Jujube was already very fragrant. But after she blew on it a few times and bit down, she first heard a slight cracking of the outer burnt shell—the shell was extremely thin. Immediately, the fresh sweetness of the shrimp meat inside, the remaining bit of rich pork fat oil, and the fresh aroma of the celery, as if released after years of confinement, rushed out all at once.

And her mouth enclosed them all in one bite.

This bite made Zhang Siniang finally understand what truly crisp outside and tender inside, fresh sweet and juicy meant. She was eager to swallow yet reluctant to swallow.

A whole bucket of shrimp—one pot couldn't fry them all.

Song Miao waited for her to finish, then stepped aside and said: "You try this pot."

Frying things depends most on heat control, and one must know when to immerse-fry and when to turn them.

Zhang Siniang learned quickly. Even so, by the time the Shrimp Jujubes were all fried, half the morning had passed.

After everything was cleaned up, she hurriedly washed her hands, poured Song Miao a teacup of tea, first steeled herself, and then said: "Young Lady, I have a matter. Though it's rather thick-skinned to bring it up, I still want to inquire..."

She told of Wang Sanlang's desire to find work at the construction site, then said embarrassedly: "It's truly very awkward to ask, but lately many people can't find work. We discussed it, and if Young Lady still needs people here, even for a little extra income, we'd like to try."

Song Miao quickly grasped the key point and asked: "Besides Wang Sanlang, do many others want such work? Are they people you know? Can you gather them together?"

Zhang Siniang was delighted upon hearing this and said: "Sanlang can do it. I'll tell him to go find people! How many more can Young Lady take here?"