Chapter 6: Making
Tofu
Returning to the front desk, Xia Yu glanced around. "Hey, where's that
uncle?"
Only two empty bowls remained on the table—the ramen and soup completely
devoured—and the third serving of ramen still sat behind the counter, which Xia
Yu had deliberately left for himself to replenish his energy.
"I'm leaving," the old man said, lifting the curtain and stepping out of the
shop.
Without hesitation, Xia Yu took the third bowl of ramen, sat down casually,
and wolfed it down.
Ha…
After a few minutes, he finished the bowl and finally felt full. Stretching,
he was about to get up to take a bath and sleep when a voice came from the
side, "What do you think of the beef ramen you made?"
The old man leaned against the shop door with his arms crossed, his face
obscured in shadow, expressionless.
"…"
Xia Yu pointed to the two empty bowls and smiled. "Old man, you ate the
whole bowl yourself, right? You're asking me this question—so you already know
how it tastes, hehe."
In Xia Yu's opinion as a foodie, the old man's ramen lost.
Under the magical cooking power of the Replica Crystal, the dish Xia Yu made
was far more delicious than the original. Not only was the ramen tastier, but
the soup's flavor and the integration of ingredients surpassed the old man's
cooking. Of course, Xia Yu knew the old man hadn't exerted his full strength,
so he couldn't tell how much effort the old man had put in. Either way, Xia Yu
had won a small victory—and finally found an outlet for the frustration he'd
carried for years.
Hey, old man, you lose!
That simple.
Of course, Xia Yu only dared say that silently in his mind...
"When did you, brat, secretly learn the soup base recipe of our Xia's
ramen?" the old man asked slowly, his face serious.
"Learn from stealing?" Xia Yu frowned. "Old man, could you be a little more
polite? It's all from our Xia family. How can it be stealing? I learned it from
the ramen you cooked—this should be called comprehension! You know
what comprehension means, right?"
"Can you really taste the soup base recipe?" the old man remained
unconvinced.
Xia Yu didn't waste words. Clearing his throat, he began reciting, "A fresh
yak shank bone, a piece of fresh beef, 50 grams of Sichuan peppercorns, 50
grams of dried ginger peel, 20 grams of fennel, grass fruit, and cinnamon, 15
grams of pepper, 10 grams of cinnamon and wormwood, 5 grams of ginger and
lemongrass, 3 grams of Piper, plus tangerine peel, star anise, and Amomum
villosum…"
"These are the ingredients for a pot of soup base—about thirty kinds in
total."
"If it's a big pot used in a shop, the proportions are 20% dried ginger
slices, 18% Sichuan peppercorns, and 12% fennel…"
Before Xia Yu finished, the old man waved him off.
"Okay!" He turned and walked into the kitchen. "Come here!"
Xia Yu followed, curious. The old man put on an apron and said, "From today
on, I'll teach you how to cook. First, you need to learn all the signature
dishes of this Chinese restaurant."
"No problem!" Xia Yu replied eagerly.
In the past, Xia Yu might have perfunctorily gone through this and found
excuses to nap. But now, with the Kitchen God System's help, if the old man
shared all his knowledge, wouldn't he learn tons of recipes? Just thinking
about it made him excited—this was a food lover's springtime!
"You're good at making pastries, so let's start with that."
The old man took out flour and explained while busying himself. Xia Yu
listened carefully, more seriously than he ever had at school.
The next day.
Xia Yu studied until late at night but woke at eight in the morning, unable
to fall back asleep. It was the first day of spring break.
Japan had three holidays: spring break, summer break, and winter break.
Spring break marked the end of the school year and usually fell between
March and early April.
April 1st was the start of the new school year for secondary and high
schools in Japan.
Xia Yu sighed and got up to wash.
Movement in the narrow courtyard caught his eye. After washing, he stood in
the corridor and saw the old man already up early, standing in front of the
antique stone mill in the yard. Like an old donkey, he dragged the millstone,
turning it slowly. White soy milk, fragrant and fresh, flowed from the
millstone into a wooden barrel.
After watching for a while, Xia Yu was about to help, but the old man
suddenly released the handle, picked up the bucket of soy milk, and walked
back, instructing in a normal tone as he passed by, "Get some clean water to
wash the millstone."
Is this tofu?
Xia Yu's mind filled with question marks.
The old man rarely made tofu himself. Most tofu used in the dishes was
bought from the shopping street nearby. Xia Yu was usually the one running
those errands—something he didn't enjoy thinking about.
Well…
Thinking of the soybeans needed for tofu, Xia Yu's face changed. He hurried
into the kitchen.
The night before, he had soaked five kilograms of soybeans specially for
this. After grinding and shelling, these soybeans could soak for hours before
being put on the grinding wheel to make soy milk.
Naturally, soy milk was used to make water tofu. After all, Xia Yu had just
mastered the recipe for "Magic Mapo Tofu" from the Kitchen God System last
night—and he couldn't wait to practice.
But the bucket of soybeans was gone!
"Old man…" Xia Yu gritted his teeth but the anger in his eyes strangely
vanished as he looked at the busy figure in the kitchen.
The old man was making tofu. He poured soy milk from the bucket into a tofu
cloth bag, pressed it hard, and filtered the soy milk into another clean wooden
barrel.
Every kilogram of soybeans was diluted with about six kilograms of water, so
five kilograms of soybeans eventually produced about 30 kilograms of soy
milk—enough to fill the large wooden barrel.
When Xia Yu finished cleaning the millstone and returned to the kitchen, he
saw the old man already boiling a large pot of soy milk.
On the kitchen counter nearby lay plaster of Paris.
Xia Yu knew well how to make tofu—even if he hadn't known it in his past
life, he had learned through observation and experience in this one.
Gypsum powder was the key to making tofu. Without it, soy milk could never
solidify.
"Water tofu or dried tofu?" the old man asked, preparing gypsum slurry with
a bowl of water as he stirred the boiling soy milk.
"Water tofu!" Xia Yu answered without hesitation.
The old man pointed to the wooden pallets stacked beside him, many layers
like a steamer. Xia Yu understood and held the trays, each wrapped with tofu
cloth.
The old man scooped soy milk while Xia Yu held the trays. After filling each
tray, they covered it with cloth and moved on to the next.
It took over ten trays to empty the pot.
Wiping sweat from his face, Xia Yu looked at the stacked pallets and
laughed.
After about half an hour, as the water cooled, the tofu took shape.
So many trays of tofu meant plenty of ingredients for practicing "Magic Mapo
Tofu." Xia Yu didn't believe he couldn't make a glowing dish—there were enough
ingredients to waste.
Not wanting to just stand around waiting, Xia Yu left the kitchen to wipe
down tables and chairs as usual.
A bit of a neat freak, Xia Yu had kept the shop spotless over the years.
Once, a cockroach had appeared in the kitchen, terrifying him. He went to the
shopping street and bought insecticides in bulk. After half a month of hard
work, peace was restored—no more mysterious corpses.