Chapter 53: Chapter 53: Support
Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio
Braised pork is easy to make, it just takes time.
Having known Liu Qian for so long, Jiang Feng knew her stomach was like a bottomless pit connected to a two-dimensional space. Although she couldn’t compete with those food streamers who could eat ten pounds in one sitting, her advantage lay in her endurance—as long as there was food in front of her, she could keep eating indefinitely.
During a previous club activity, she nibbled on sunflower seeds for over three hours and polished off a whole 4 pounds!
There were no fresh vegetables in the kitchen, as Jiang Weiguo and Jiang Jiankang would never tolerate the use of leftovers, but there were some dried goods, and Jiang Feng also found some preserved and rice left over to make fried rice with eggs.
“The braised pork will take half an hour, should I fry you a bowl of egg fried rice first?” Jiang Feng suggested.
“Sure, sure, sure.” Liu Qian nodded eagerly, curiously taking in the kitchen.
The kitchen wasn’t large, but it was her first time there, so she was particularly curious.
After looking around for a while, Jiang Feng’s egg fried rice was almost ready.
“By the way, President, Minqi mentioned there’s a volunteer event next week. It seems that each club has to send a certain number of people, are you going?” Liu Qian asked.
“Are you talking about the one organized by the student council? As for our club, I’ll go, are you going too?” Jiang Feng flipped the spatula while speaking, “That event is quite exhausting; usually, it involves going to a nearby county’s primary school to serve as volunteer teachers, or to an orphanage to clean and take care of the children, things like that.”
The student council held this event every year, with each club participating according to the proportion of its members, and other students also had the option to sign up voluntarily. In the previous two years, the Chess Club had been hovering on the brink of disbandment, and only needed to send one person. Last year, it was Jiang Feng who went.
“Minqi wants to go, and I want to check it out.” Freshmen are always very enthusiastic about school activities; Jiang Feng had felt the same last year, and ended up sweeping floors at the orphanage all day, in addition to moving things several times.
“Sure.” With more people in the Chess Club this year, Jiang Feng originally wondered whom to send, but since there were volunteers, he was obviously happy about it.
In the midst of their conversation, the egg fried rice was ready to be served.
Liu Qian joyfully carried her bowl of egg fried rice out.
Braised pork is easy to make; it just requires time to slowly stew, otherwise the fatty meat becomes too greasy and unappetizing. Keeping the flame low allows the fat to render out slowly, and Jiang Feng started making pickled vegetable dumplings.
The corn flour was available because Sir loved corn bread, and ever since his arrival, there had always been a bag of cornmeal in the kitchen.
However, adding distiller’s grains was out of the question. Nanny Li added distiller’s grains and rice bran because they were leftovers from skimming off the top of the guests’ food on the boat—they were available because of the skimming, and it had little to do with the food itself. Besides, Jiang Feng couldn’t manage to procure such rustic distiller’s grains, let alone rice bran.
The pickled vegetables were made by Mrs. Wang Xiulian, and her pickling skills far exceeded those of Jiang Jiankang. Whether it was pickled vegetables, radishes, cucumbers, or chili peppers, her flavors were far superior to those sold in markets. However, Mrs. Wang Xiulian was stingy and not enthusiastic about pickling, making only a few jars each year for private consumption, never willing to offer them as complimentary dishes in the store, so the customers never had the chance to taste them.
Kneading the pickled vegetables into the dough slowly, as he worked the dough, Jiang Feng also had to check the fire control for the braised pork. He was not as good at kneading dough as Nanny Li. After all, he spent most of his cooking training dedicated to knifework, as Jiang Weiguo hadn’t taught him any white work, and his kneading skills were developed only through the few occasions each year when making dumplings, certainly no match for Nanny Li who made corn bread daily.
In these days, Jiang Weiguo had not taught him knifework or fire control, but was teaching him about ingredients.
Knifework is a chef’s foundation; ingredients are the soul.
Literary-minded tofu is tricky to make, and egg fried rice is also not easy.
Jiang Feng was not a particularly insightful chef. If he hadn’t obtained the game and needed to complete game tasks, he probably would never have practiced cooking again and, like his cousins, would have graduated from university and found a job unrelated to cooking.
But he had one advantage: once he started something, he would do it earnestly.
When studying, he could put down his chef’s knife and study hard, and now he could also pick up the knife and practice earnestly.
The dumplings were ready before the braised pork.
Jiang Feng checked the pot, and the cooking time was still not enough; it would probably take another twenty minutes or so.
Carrying out the steaming hot cabbage meatballs, Liu Qian had already cleaned her plate and was chatting with the audience in her live stream.
Not a single grain of rice was left in the bowl; the rim was gleaming with oil.
“What is this?” Liu Qian asked, sniffing and looking up hesitantly, “Corn… meatballs?”
Jiang Feng thought that the pickled cabbage meatballs he made looked quite attractive—delicate, round, and the pickled cabbage was evenly distributed, like stars scattered across the sky. If he sprinkled some powder, poured chocolate sauce over them, and changed the plate, he reckoned they could even pass for a dessert.
“Pickled cabbage meatballs. Take it easy, they’re quite substantial. The braised pork will still take another twenty minutes,” said Jiang Feng as he picked a cabbage meatball from the plate.
A rough estimate placed one at almost half a pound.
Once she took a bite, there was a hint of sweetness and the unique fragrance of cornmeal, with the taste of pickled vegetables. Surprisingly, the combination was quite good.
Cornmeal is a coarse grain, but these days, businesses wouldn’t possibly sell the pure, throat-scratching cornmeal directly to customers—it was basically mixed with some flour.
Liu Qian placed the plate in front of the camera boasting, “Our Chess Club President made these especially for me; they look pretty good. President, what’s the filling made of?”
“There’s no filling,” Jiang Feng replied.
A stream of laughter (n£Dq Dq Dq D£) washed over the live chat.
Jiang Feng went back to the kitchen to check on the braised pork and took the opportunity to think about how to make some extra money.
Twenty minutes later, Jiang Feng came out with the braised pork.
The plates on the table were already empty.
“You ate them all?” Jiang Feng exclaimed.
Five meatballs, nearly three pounds, and the most crucial point was that they were made with unleavened dough, which was very filling. Liu Qian, despite her appetite, was just an ordinary person. How could she handle eating so much all at once?
“It was just five meatballs,” said Liu Qian, not distinguishing between unleavened and leavened dough, “but they did seem a bit heavy. It’s no big deal, I’ve eaten more before without any issues.”
As she spoke, Liu Qian reached for the braised pork with her chopsticks.
She seemed to be fine.
Jiang Feng was optimistic for barely two minutes before Liu Qian ran into trouble.
“President, I—I feel a bit uncomfortable in my stomach.” Liu Qian was originally eating the braised pork happily, but then she clutched her belly, her face turned pale, and she called over to Jiang Feng, who was looking at part-time job listings on his phone.
“My stomach hurts, it feels bloated and painful,” Liu Qian said, frowning with cold sweat on her forehead.
Jiang Feng guessed right away that she had eaten too much.
“Can you walk? We need to go to the hospital,” Jiang Feng said decisively.
There was a private hospital at the entrance of the school, about a twenty-minute walk away.
“Seems like, I can’t.” Liu Qian was genuinely in severe pain all of a sudden, and as she shakily stood up and took one step, she lost her balance and grabbed the table for support.
Having no other choice, Jiang Feng first went to open the door, nodded at the owner opposite asking him to help watch the store, then lifted Liu Qian on his back and headed towards the hospital.
What he didn’t know was that Liu Qian’s live stream had already exploded..
