ICCFVHR 17

Chapter 17

Your Knife Skills Are Truly Excellent

Su Wanqing gave him a sidelong glance. “My cooking is incredibly delicious. If you have the capability, don’t go fighting over the food with me in a bit.”

Lu Shiyan didn’t speak, but he thought to himself that he had eaten all kinds of good things, so how could he possibly fight over food with his wife?

She made calculations secretly in her mind. Before transmigrating, she had been a food blogger who loved researching all kinds of delicious food the most; shallow frying, stir-frying, braising, deep-frying—she could do it all. Ever since transmigrating over during this period of time, she hadn’t had much of a chance to fully display her skills. The large-pot meals at the youth point were not only bland and flavorless, but also frequently half-raw, leaving people with absolutely no appetite.

Now that she had an opportunity, along with flour and various seasonings from her space to serve as a base, it was the perfect time to show her hand and let Lu Shiyan have a good taste of her craftsmanship.

Lu Shiyan was still a bit uneasy. “How about I do it instead? You just sit and cut the window paper-cuts, the kitchen has too much oil smoke.”

“No need, no need,” Su Wanqing pushed him to go sit in the yard. “You just wait to eat, I guarantee it will make you unable to stop eating.”

With that, she turned around and walked into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves to prepare to display her great skills.

Su Wanqing found an old apron to tie on. After hiding the seasonings she pulled out from her space completely out of sight in the cabinet beneath the stove, she only then began to clean the fish.

The fish was bought by Lu Shiyan—a fresh grass carp, its scales still gleaming and feeling slippery to the touch. She picked up the scissors, scraping the scales, removing the gills, and gutting it, her movements exceptionally nimble and her knife skills sharp. In no time, she cleaned the fish spotlessly, leaving not even a trace of the black membrane inside the fish belly.

She then placed the pork belly on the cutting board, slicing it into thin pieces and stacking them piece by piece in a bowl. Fat and lean intermingled, the thickness uniform, looking appetizing at a glance.

The green vegetables were picked, washed twice in clean water, and drained in a bamboo basket, water droplets dripping down along the vegetable leaves.

Eggs were cracked into a coarse porcelain bowl. Picking up chopsticks, she stirred them with a loud whirring sound, the egg whites and yolks mingling together, the frothing egg liquid looking shiny.

While cutting the vegetables, she constantly felt a gaze at her back, making a person feel hairs stand up in their heart.

Turning her head to look, Lu Shiyan was currently leaning on the small window of the kitchen, holding a tomato, taking a big bite out of it, and saying indistinctly with his mouth full, “Watching you cut vegetables.”

“What’s so good about watching someone cut vegetables?” Su Wanqing wrinkled her brows, the knife in her hand not stopping. “Do you have nothing else to do?”

“Beautiful,” Lu Shiyan added another sentence. “Your knife skills are truly excellent.”

These words weren’t flattery.

Su Wanqing’s movements in cutting vegetables were indeed sharp—the knife rising and falling quickly and steadily. Just taking those potato shreds for instance, they were cut thinly and each strand was distinct, as if they had been measured with a ruler, without the slightest bit of sloppiness.

After watching for a while, Lu Shiyan couldn’t resist asking again, “Who did you learn these knife skills from?”

Su Wanqing’s hand movements didn’t stop, and she didn’t even lift her head. “Self-taught, is that not allowed?”

Lu Shiyan didn’t speak, taking another bite of the tomato, his eyes still glued straight onto her without moving away.

Su Wanqing felt uncomfortable all over from his staring. Turning her head, she lifted the kitchen knife in her hand, brandished it at him, and said fiercely, “Still looking? If you keep looking, there’ll be no food tonight, I’ll let you starve!”

Lu Shiyan froze for a moment. Looking at her holding the kitchen knife with her cheeks puffed up, she wasn’t scary in the slightest but was rather a bit cute instead, and he couldn’t resist letting out a laugh.

He quickly raised both hands, took a step backward, and said as if begging for mercy, “Alright, alright, alright, I won’t look, I won’t look. Is it fine if I don’t look?”

Su Wanqing let out a huff, waving her hand. “Go, go, go, tidy up the bedding in the room. Take the quilts and mattresses out to sun them. This room looks like it hasn’t been lived in for quite a while, it must be very damp, sleeping on it wouldn’t be comfortable.”

Lu Shiyan nodded, responding with a “good,” and turned around to go tidy up in the room.

Hearing his footsteps fading away, Su Wanqing quickly closed the kitchen door, even sliding the door bolt into place, terrified that he would suddenly return and bump into the secret of the space.

Leaning against the door, she let out a long breath, her heart a bit flustered.

The matter of the space was something she temporarily didn’t want Lu Shiyan to know about just yet.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but this matter was far too bizarre; speaking it out might scare him. Furthermore, the two of them had just registered for their certificate, and their feelings hadn’t reached that step yet. Once they spent more time together in the future and became more familiar with each other, it wouldn’t be too late to speak of it then.

Turning around, she pulled some more things out from the space.

A jar of lard, stark white and solidified firmly, smelling fragrant. In this era, lard was a good thing, usually one couldn’t bear to eat it.

A small bottle of soy sauce—this was a rare commodity in the year seventy-three. The soy sauce sold at the supply and marketing cooperative was thin and pale, as if it had been diluted with water, so how could it compare to the one in her space, which was thick, fresh, fragrant, and pure in flavor.

There were also Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, and dried chili peppers, all wrapped in paper. Unwrapping them a bit, a rich fragrance wafted out, much more fragrant than the dried ones sold at the supply and marketing cooperative.

She opened the window to let some air in, hid the seasonings well, and began to cook.

First, she marinated the cleaned fish, smearing a layer of salt over it, then placing a few slices of ginger—this could remove the fishy odor and also impart a bit of base flavor.

Then she lit the fire, placing a spoonful of lard into the pot. After the oil grew hot, she poured the pork belly slices into the pot with a sizzle. The meat slices immediately curled up in the oil, crackling and releasing grease, and a rich meat fragrance instantly surged out, wafting all through the kitchen.

Holding the spatula, Su Wanqing stir-fried a few times. Once the meat slices changed color and their edges turned slightly scorched yellow, she scooped the meat out. Leaving the base oil in the pot, she tossed in green onions, ginger, and garlic to release their fragrance, making the aroma even richer, then poured the meat slices back in, added a bit of soy sauce, and stir-fried evenly—the color instantly turned bright.

Braised pork belly had to be slow-simmered to be delicious. She added a bit of water to the pot, covered it with the pot lid, and let it slowly bubble away on the stove, lifting the lid from time to time to stir it to prevent it from burning the pot.

Over on the other side, the fish was also marinated sufficiently. She started another pot, poured in a bit of oil, and began to shallow-fry the fish.

When the fish entered the pot, the oil splattered everywhere, splashing all over the back of her hand. She quickly dodged backward, but the spatula in her hand didn’t stop, carefully shallow-frying the fish until both sides turned golden yellow, then adding water, tossing in green onions and ginger, adding a bit of soy sauce, bringing it to a boil over high heat, and turning it down to low heat to simmer slowly.

Next, she stir-fried a dish of green vegetables; the control of the heat was just right, lush and green, looking appetizing at a glance. Finally, she whipped up a bowl of egg drop soup, scattering a bit of minced green onions over it, making the fragrance even more complete.

The kitchen was steamy and hot, the oil smoke enveloping the fragrance of the food, wafting all through the courtyard, even detectable outside the yard.

Su Wanqing was busy to the point of being drenched in sweat, the stray hairs on her forehead wet and clinging to her face, but the smile on her face had never stopped.

Before transmigrating, she loved cooking the most, researching all kinds of recipes every single day, filming videos to upload; her fans all said that watching her videos could make them eat three more bowls of rice. Having transmigrated over for so long, eating the large-pot meals at the youth point every single day—that food was not only bland and flavorless but also frequently half-raw like pig feed—the taste in her mouth had almost completely faded away.

Today she could finally cook a good meal and eat a proper one suited to her taste, just thinking about it made her happy.

She carried the food and dishes one by one to the old table in the room.

The braised pork belly was simmered until soft and tender—the fat meat crystal clear and the lean meat fibers distinct, the sauce color oily and bright; just looking at it alone would make a person salivate continuously.

The braised fish lay inside the coarse porcelain plate, its body covered with shredded green onions and shredded ginger, the broth thick and the fragrance assailing the nostrils, without even a bit of fishy odor.