Chapter 199

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

The cage was full of white geese, long-necked, honking merrily.

Dabing was, after all, a meddlesome sort; hearing Song and Zhang speaking seriously, and finding the geese's noise grating, and seeing them all twisting their heads about haphazardly, he couldn't help reaching out, wanting to shove their heads back into the cage.

Unfortunately, his hand hadn't even pressed down firmly when the goose's neck beneath his palm shortened, it whipped its head back, and pecked him viciously once.

The goose's beak was sharp and hard, and it pecked squarely on the web of his thumb.

Dabing cried out miserably, clutching his hand and stumbling backward repeatedly.

Though it was highly improper, the other three people in the room all couldn't help laughing out loud.

Song Miao, suppressing her laughter, stepped forward to examine his hand; seeing it was already red, and that in just this short while a bruise was slowly surfacing, she hurriedly said: "In your room there's a basket tied with a gray cloth strip; inside is trauma medicine — go fetch it quickly and apply some!"

She added: "Many people keep geese to guard the house; this beast is very fierce — you'd better stay clear, don't provoke it."

Tears brimming in his eyes, Dabing glared fiercely at the geese in the cage, then shook his hand and turned to leave; turning back, he pointed at one of them and shouted: "Young Lady, the one that pecked me just now was that one — later you must leave it for me to pluck, only then can I vent my anger!!"

Having spoken, still indignant, he ran to the stove, dipped his hand in the stove-bottom ash, intending to go mark that goose.

But after he took a few steps forward, lingering fear got the better of him; he dared not approach again, turned back, took the fire tongs, dipped them in ash, and from five or six paces away reached out the tongs and rolled a black circle onto the goose that had pecked him; only then did he stop, put the things down, and ran off shaking his pecked right hand.

Cook Zhang, seeing this childish display, laughed heartily; finishing his laugh, he grinned at Song Miao and said: "Four big geese — are you going to cook them all in one meal?"

Song Miao said: "There are thirty or forty people in the yamen, plus ten or twenty in the Water Supervision Bureau — I'm afraid even cooking them all might not be enough for everyone to eat their fill."

Cook Zhang then said: "Ordinary geese are nothing more than soy-braised, brine-braised, stewed, or roasted — how do you intend to prepare them?"

Song Miao looked them over; having heard these geese were raised for about four months, judging by their size and meat quality, she said: "It's this hot, everyone says they have no appetite; these geese are too large for roasting or stewing, and even less suitable for brine-braising — I thought perhaps making something light and appetite-stimulating would be better."

"How can goose be made light and appetite-stimulating?"

"Our Hua Prefecture has heavy tastes locally, and the geese are mostly large geese with coarse, thick meat; that's why Master Zhang your brine-braised goose and stewed goose are so good — but since childhood, besides roasting and braising, in summer I've loved another method, called 'white-cut'; it sounds like it would have no appeal at all, but as long as the ingredients are good and it's done well, what you eat is pure, tender, original meat fragrance."

"I also have a specially paired dipping sauce — those who love goose flavor find it delicious plain; those who can't stand even a hint of goose flavor, with that sauce, find it equally delicious!"

Hearing this, Cook Zhang immediately said: "If it were anyone else, hearing the words 'white-cut' I'd turn and leave — but your skill makes me curious what it tastes like."

He added: "This many birds is troublesome to handle; if you can't manage, I'll have my apprentice Er help you — when it's done, can you spare me a few pieces to taste?"

Er is his nephew and disciple.

Killing geese is indeed troublesome; the most troublesome part is plucking — goose feathers are thick and dense, outer feathers coarse and hard, down fine and dense; especially since they grow much larger than ordinary poultry, processing them is even more arduous.

Moreover, Dabing has injured his hand right now, and who knows what his condition is.

Song Miao didn't refuse, simply replying: "Even if I can't spare a hand to help, surely I can still decide to give you a share?"

She smiled and said: "I just told the messenger to go back and spread the word — I claimed one goose as my portion to treat guests — having been in Hua Prefecture this long, daily borrowing Uncle Zhang's kitchen, I've been wanting to invite you to share a seat as well!"

The runners laboring on the case in the yamen, the Water Supervision Bureau's students and clerks — naturally they work hard; but in Song Miao's view, the aunties and young ladies in the kitchen who provided case information, every detail investigated and described clearly — they, too, have merit.

Since Cen Dezhang said he would reward them and gave silver, she wanted to seize this chance to secure a bit of benefit for them — twelve people reported the injustice that day, plus Cook Zhang and his companion, just adding two more pairs of chopsticks.

Moreover, though the kitchen belongs to the official station, these past days the Zhang uncle and nephew have given her no end of convenience, saving her much effort; even out of gratitude, a meal together is only proper.

"Only pity today's dishes are truly somewhat simple and shabby — hope Uncle Zhang won't disdain them!"

Cook Zhang Zhang was quite pleased, chuckling: "Where's that! What words! These days you've been here, we've exchanged pointers, I've learned several new dishes, feel my skill has improved greatly — last time Station Official Liu even praised my flower rolls as having 'a few parts of Song Xiaoniangzi's flower roll flavor'!"

As they spoke, Dabing hurried back; the moment he entered, he wore a mournful face, held up his bruised purple right hand for Song Miao to see, and glared at the goose; hearing the incessant "ga-ga," he grew even more annoyed, and from afar cursed angrily: "Feathered beast!"

Song Miao said: "If your hand hurts badly, rest these two days and don't work for now? Siniang said she'll come soon, and here Master Zhang has also sent Er to lend a hand."

Dabing was already shaking his head desperately; hearing "Siniang," then hearing "Er," he shook his head even more like a rattle-drum, hurriedly saying: "No need, no need! Looks scary, actually doesn't hurt much! Doesn't hinder exerting strength!"

— Joking aside, that Zhang Siniang was currying favor so obviously, and she's a woman; women together are naturally more convenient, easier to get close.

If Young Lady Song gets used to her, familiar with her, and later looks down on me, what then??

Though Song Miao couldn't fathom what messy twists and turns were in Dabing's mind, she didn't force him, only telling him that if he truly felt unwell, he must say so.

Sure enough, not long after, Zhang Siniang arrived — not just her, but Ma Shenzǐ came too.

The latter said: "Heard Siniang say Young Lady Song is treating us to a simple meal, and there's goose; I thought ten-odd people, Young Lady still has to see to the officials in the yamen eating, might not manage alone — better come early to help out!"

Everyone having come, Song Miao naturally wouldn't decline; she first asked if the others knew, then asked who wasn't coming.

Ma Shenzǐ said no one wasn't coming, everyone was coming, and laughed: "Heard it's Song Xiaoniangzi personally cooking, everyone's delighted like anything, they'll be here in a moment — originally they all said they'd come help, but I stopped them, said this kitchen is only so big, too many people means chaos, the official station still needs the space — the two of us sisters-in-law are enough!"

Suddenly having three people to help, Song Miao calculated the time, saw it was about right, and began.

The weather was hot, everyone said they had no appetite, so she didn't prepare to cook rice, noodles, or other hot food, but planned to make congee.

First she had the oil-marinated rice put in the pot and boiled over fire; then she went to boil water; when the water was ready, they killed the geese, and everyone helped wash and pluck the geese.

In short order the four geese were processed; Song Miao prepared two large pots of water, adding ginger slices, scallion knots, salt, and a splash of turbid wine to remove gaminess in each.

When the water boiled, she used a small pot to boil water separately, took a large ladle, scooped boiling water, and poured it over the geese.

Goose meat shrinks with heat, becoming even whiter and tighter; after scalding, they ran cold water over them — this is called "tightening the skin." With this step, later when handled further, the goose skin won't easily fall apart, and the texture will be more springy and smooth.

Once the skin was tightened, the water in the big vat also boiled; only then did she cook the geese.

Besides the geese, Song Miao also added a few strips of pork belly with a 30-70 lean-to-fat ratio to cook together — first to enhance flavor, second to add a dish.

The method being white-cut, she had to first submerge the whole goose in water, then lift it out, then submerge again — three dips and three lifts — so the heat inside the goose's cavity and the outer skin would equalize, avoiding the outside cooked while the inside remained raw.

After the dipping and lifting were done, she boiled over high heat for a while, then turned to the tiniest flame, keeping that large vat of water at a state just barely boiling — this water has another name, "shrimp-eye water," because when it barely simmers, bubbles rise from the pot bottom, their size just like a shrimp's eyes.

White-cut meat made with such water is "soaked cooked," not "boiled cooked"; the water temperature is lower, the meat cooks slowly, meat juices naturally lose less, the more evenly it cooks, the more tender the meat.

Slow-cooked for an hour, Song Miao pierced the thickest part of the meat with chopsticks; seeing no blood water, she lifted the whole goose out, let it cool slightly, and began cutting up the goose.

Cutting the meat has its rules: first remove the wings, then cut the legs, finally cut the body; the knife must be decisive, at joints follow the joint, dislocate bones without smashing them — otherwise it not only ruins presentation, but bone fragments dragged by the blade and torn shredded meat will also affect mouthfeel.

Song Miao cutting the geese here — first Dabing and Zhang Siniang, then Ma Shenzǐ, and finally even Master Zhang's nephew apprentice, hearing that "thud-thud-thud" sound of chopping blocks, couldn't help turning back to look.

When Cook Zhang came in, he saw four people here, each craning their short necks to watch; those with work in hand unconsciously slowed their movements, and those about to leave stopped in their tracks.

The way several people stretched their necks could not compare to the white geese, yet they looked remarkably like turtles.

He walked a few steps closer, just about to smile, but at a glance he saw Song Miao butchering the goose; he couldn't help looking twice, then twice more, and as he watched he too stretched his neck, becoming the fifth supposed turtle in the room, having completely forgotten what he had meant to laugh at, simply standing there, actually watching hard as that young lady finished butchering an entire bird.

A single goose was clearly that large, with distinct grain, bone, and flesh, yet seeing her movements, they were truly fluid; with just one cleaver, meeting the goose head she split it open; meeting a joint, the knife tip drew lightly along; meeting bone, a clean chop; meeting the thick meat of the goose breast she used a diagonal slice……

Different applications of force, different techniques, different cutting methods, made nearly every piece of goose meat uniform in size, each with skin, with meat, and with a layer of fat that was extremely, extremely thin.

A thought suddenly arose in Chef Zhang's heart — so watching someone cut up a goose could be this enjoyable.

The movements were clean and neat, even carrying a faint rhythm, smooth and comfortable; the goose seemed born to be carved by the knife in her hand, every cut falling as if it encountered not the slightest hindrance, just like breathing, so simple, so effortless.

The cut goose meat was arranged on the plate, and the plating was also beautiful, skin facing up, like sheep-fat white jade; one look showed it was an extremely refreshing dish, absolutely not greasy.

Only the taste remained unknown.

Unknowingly, saliva seeped into Chef Zhang's mouth, and that saliva seemed to flow backward, flooding into his brain — eh, why am I standing here stupidly? What did I just go out for, and what am I supposed to do now?

White-cut goose was the main dish; as for the rest — goose liver, goose heart, goose intestines — each had its own preparation.

Goose liver and goose heart were braised; goose intestines were blanched then stir-fried fiercely over high heat with soy sauce, laid over mung bean sprouts, using just-blanched raw bean sprouts to catch the oiliness and sauce of the soy-sauce goose intestines.

The staple was congee.

Song Miao mixed the water-to-rice ratio herself; beforehand she tossed the rice with a little oil, used plenty of water, and cooked until the rice grains just barely blossomed.

More water, less rice; the cooked congee had rice and water separated.

The rice broth was clear, showing only a faint thickness when shaken; a large spoon stirred gently, and the rice grains could only float up for a moment before lazily settling back to the pot bottom, like students on holiday who half-open their eyes a slit, realize they don't have to go to school, and immediately close their eyes again, refusing to rise, determined to laze in bed to the death.

White congee naturally calls for small side dishes.

The small dishes were sour-pickled lettuce stems, sour-pickled garlic chives, sour-pickled ginger, sour-pickled cowpeas, sour-pickled carrots, also fried yellow soybeans, sour-pickled vegetable minced pork, and a plate of fermented bean curd water spinach leaves — she also washed the stems separately, cut them into sections, and stir-fried them with vinegar, adding a dish of vinegar-stir-fried water spinach stems.

Though a simple meal, seemingly lacking grand dishes apart from the white-cut goose, it still filled a whole table, looking refreshing, appetizing, ample, and mouth-watering all at once.

All dishes were on the table; only then did Song Miao mix the white-cut goose dipping sauce.

That dipping sauce was specially made, with a secret recipe; the most crucial ingredient was a salt-cured Lai Mengzi, which she had specially brought from the Capital, originally a Guangnan specialty.

Old Lai Mengzi, cured for years, its flavor already thoroughly permeated; all bitterness and astringency inside had completely transformed into a heavy yet restrained salty-sourness; minced extremely fine with garlic cloves, cornelian cherry, mustard seeds, scallion whites, and blended with white vinegar, soy sauce, white sugar, salt, oil, finally ladled with a large spoon of the original goose-cooking broth — that fragrance, even just smelling it, made one's mouth water.

Now Hua Prefecture's roads were already open, and the official relay station wasn't crowded; Song Miao set up several tables — two for the people from the riverway kitchen who reported the grievance, specially placed in a corner for convenient private talk later; the remaining tables for the Du Shui Jian people returning from the construction site; she also packed the leftover congee and dishes, had a carriage hitched, wrote a note, and asked someone to help deliver them to the Hua Prefecture Government Office.

After everyone was seated, the Du Shui Jian side needed no attention; Song Miao first thanked the riverway kitchen people, and handed each a red envelope, whispering: "This is reward money obtained from Assistant Magistrate Cen; thank you all for providing clues; though the sum isn't large, it's a token of good fortune — just pocket it quietly."

Speaking, she raised her bowl, using congee in place of wine, and toasted everyone a sip.

After drinking the congee, she told everyone to eat freely, no need for restraint or deference.

Once these words were out, the ten-odd aunties and young ladies at first exchanged thanks sentence by sentence, spoke grateful words, declined and deferred, each somewhat reserved; but as they kept declining, someone unknown took the lead, and suddenly everyone snapped up their chopsticks without a word, grabbing at the dishes they had long eyed.

Ma Shenzǐ's first chopstick went straight for the goose meat.

Those who likewise favored goose meat were not few; amid the forest of chopsticks, relying on her memory from serving dishes, heaven indeed rewards diligence — she managed to grab a goose leg.

?? Many thanks to Book City KyokuKin, Zishun, Ao Te Man Xiao Jie, and Wo Ai Nong Nong for each sending me a small gift, thank you all =3=

? (The little m at the end of the dear's name is a very cute unclosed little heart, but I can't type it, sorry, everyone understand ~)