"Wait a moment, I’ll stop filming for now. I need to tear this bun open, stuff it with two scoops of sauce, and pair it with this cabbage soup..."
The screen became shaky, and one could vaguely see the clean and bright dining hall where workers were busily eating.
And the concern of a close relative: "Right, wasn’t the braised potato and meat delicious tonight too?"
Tonight up in the mountains, it was a fragrant and steaming hot cabbage soup, and life down the hill was just as nourishing and wonderful.
After Master Jiang finished cooking dinner, he quickly slipped down the hill. As soon as he entered the yard, he saw Seventh Uncle standing at the kitchen door, his voice so tender it seemed almost dripping:
"Tantan, it’s getting cold soon, and the chickens aren’t laying eggs well. Why keep them? It’s a waste of food. Why not kill one? Let’s make chestnut braised chicken tonight."
Not to mention it was already 5:30 in the evening, and it was already dark. If we start slaughtering chickens now, how long will dinner be delayed?
Speaking of laying eggs, Qiaoqiao was the first to raise her hand:
"Nope! The chicks are still very diligent. I collected 65 eggs this morning."
With his own apprentice debunking him, what could Seventh Uncle do? He could only silently listen to Song Tan’s roaring laughter:
"Seventh Uncle, not to mention it’s a pity to kill the chickens when they’re laying eggs, just count how many people we have here. If we want to make a meal of chestnut braised chicken, how many would we need to kill?"
Now, Professor Song and his four disciples have returned to school, Tantan’s grandparents aren’t here, Aunt Lianhua pushes her mother-in-law up the hill to dine with old friends every day, and even Zhang Wang’s family has gone up the hill...
All in all, there are just 11 people at home now, and cooking for about 20 people should suffice.
That is to say, if everyone wants to eat stewed chicken, considering the hens and roosters up the hill, at least three should be slaughtered, right?
Seventh Uncle remained silent, obviously not in a good mood.
After a while, he came out of the kitchen again, holding three processed chickens in his hand.
It was unclear when these chickens had lost their lives. At this moment, they had been plucked clean of feathers and were neatly prepared. Held by the neck by Seventh Uncle, the six thin legs drooped down, looking exceptionally desolate.
He instructed: "Qiaoqiao, wash a pot of sweet potatoes to steam, and then you can make this chestnut braised chicken."
He then instructed Master Jiang: "Xiaokang, go press down the rice I cooked this afternoon, keep it on low heat, to go with the chicken soup later."
Qiaoqiao, holding a basin, picked a few sweet potatoes and then glanced at her charging phone:
"I learned this dish when we were collecting chestnuts before. It’s a good night to teach the kids too."
He was quite confident: "I’m sure I can make it even better than last time!"
Meanwhile, Xin Jun, holding the large sweet potato he had been nibbling on for a long time—apparently, Zhang Yanping had chosen an especially large one intending to please him.
He paused, picked up the knife in front of him, and "click" cut the lower half and handed it to Zhang Yanping.
Confused, the other side took it: "Why? I’m not eating—"
But he heard Xin Jun interject: "This bait is always in high demand, and it’s very likely that each order only has one portion."
"Since dinner isn’t ready yet, why don’t we pack it up in advance and sell it tomorrow? The courier can take it directly."
"Oh." Zhang Yanping thought it made sense, unconsciously snapping the sweet potato into his mouth, instantly conquered by its sweet and crispy taste. Holding today’s packaged bait, he mumbled:
"We need to keep 50 packs aside, I promised to sell them early to this group of fishermen..."
Xin Jun replied with a "hmm" and finished the remaining bit of sweet potato in a few bites.
As Zhang Yanping finished his sweet potato, he suddenly groaned while pulling the tape: "I ate too much raw sweet potato, now I feel bloated and want to fart..."
Xin Jun felt a bit like he was shooting himself in the foot, but, no worries.
He considerately said:
"We’re not in a rush, let’s take it slow, one by one. Tired today? Just sit over there and relax."
Blissful, Zhang Yanping carried a stack of cardboard boxes and went over to sit. Looking over at Xin Jun who was packaging at the other end, he couldn’t help but inwardly comment:
With such meticulous attention, no wonder he had a partner in college! And at this moment, his mind briefly flickered with the thought of Doctor Xiaoguo and tonight’s chestnut braised chicken...
At this end, Qiaoqiao’s livestream opened up again.
[Twice a day again—Is the host planning to make up the hours by mid-month?]