Chapter 24 - 23: 4 Types of Breakfast

Chapter 24: Chapter 23: 4 Types of Breakfast

Connie had an impetuous nature. When she heard Ning He didn’t have much going on today, she immediately dragged her home to put her culinary skills to the test.

Connie’s place wasn’t far from the market. The three of them walked for twenty minutes, pushing the noodle stall cart and picking up some necessary ingredients along the way. Of course, Ning He paid for them herself.

They arrived at a residential area. The buildings looked a bit old, but the surroundings were reasonably clean.

The buildings in the Fourth Ring were all square concrete blocks, uniformly poured when Beiluo City was first built. Connie’s home was similar to Ning He’s place but consisted of two rooms with a doorway knocked through the wall connecting them.

The room on the left had a TV, a sofa, a bathroom, and a few desks. The one on the right was presumably the bedroom.

Judging by the slippers left at the entrance, at least five people lived there.

’So many siblings.’

They unloaded the gas stove, pots, and other cooking tools from the cart and set them up inside. Connie then brought out a table for Ning He.

"Should we give you some privacy?"

No chef would easily reveal their trade secrets. Back at the shelter, the three of them had to work together, so there was no way to be discreet. But things were different now. Connie knew the unspoken rules, so she took the initiative to ask.

Ning He waved her hand, her reply crisp. "No need."

The things she was making were simple breakfast snacks that didn’t require much technical skill. Besides, if they were going to work together, she’d have to teach them eventually. There was no need for secrecy.

"Let’s begin." Connie and Ah Huai sat down on nearby chairs, folding their arms and waiting for Ning He’s performance.

"Alright, just you watch!"

Ning He didn’t waste any time. She opened the bags of rice and flour, measuring out a few portions of each into bowls.

For the breakfast items to be sold at the cafeteria, she decided to follow the same strategy she used for the Lampshade Cakes: choose items with broad appeal that weren’t too difficult to make and had a relatively low cost.

There were quite a few dishes, but thankfully, Connie had enough equipment for her to work on several at once.

First, she kneaded a dough of flour, baking powder, and baking soda, then set it aside to rest.

Then, she washed some rice, put it in the cooker, and pressed the "cook" button. For now, she could leave it be.

Next, she mixed rice flour with water, sugar, and baking powder to form a batter, which she placed directly into a steamer.

Ning He mixed the remaining rice flour with soybean flour, then added a bit more baking powder, all-purpose flour, and salt. After stirring everything evenly, she let it rest so the different flours could fully absorb the moisture.

While she waited, the batter in the steamer finished cooking. A pure white, fluffy, and jiggly rice cake emerged.

To save time, Ning He had used an extremely simple recipe for the rice cake, relying on baking powder for fluffiness instead of fermentation. Both the flavor and texture were a step down, about on par with what you’d find at a small street stall.

Sure enough, after Ah Huai and Connie tasted it, they had no complaints about the flavor but weren’t particularly impressed either.

"If this is the best you can do, I’d say let’s just forget it," Connie said bluntly.

Ning He passed them another piece. "Try this one."

Connie took the small bowl. It also held a rice cake, but this one had a brown layer in the middle.

"Is this... red bean paste?"

"Yeah. I don’t have enough ingredients on hand right now, so this is as good as the rice cake itself is going to get. The red bean paste filling should be decent, though. Give it a try."

Connie and Ah Huai each took a bite.

The rice cake was lightly sweet with a faint sour note. Its texture was fluffy and springy—classic comfort food. With the addition of the sweet red bean paste, it became more like a rich dessert, filling them with a sense of bliss.

"This one’s not bad," Connie said after a moment’s thought. "If you can really improve the flavor and texture of the rice cake itself, I think it could sell."

Ning He grinned. "Alright, on to the next one."

Just then, the rice cooker beeped, signaling that the rice was done.

Ning He placed a layer of plastic wrap on the cutting board and turned out the cooked rice. She had intentionally added extra water to make the rice softer. She spread it out on the board, pressed it flat into a neat rectangle, and then cut it into small squares.

Next, she heated some water in a pot, added brown sugar, and quickly made a simple brown sugar syrup, which she set aside.

Then, she heated oil in a pan. Once it reached the right temperature, she fried the small squares of rice until their surfaces turned golden brown. She scooped them out, drizzled them with the brown sugar syrup, and there it was: a classic dish, Brown Sugar Fried Rice Cakes.

Ning He had originally considered making Brown Sugar Ciba, but that dish uses glutinous rice, and the pounding process is too laborious. She had opted instead for the similarly flavored but much simpler Fried Rice Cakes.

Connie and Ah Huai took the plates, and each picked up a piece to try.

The outside of the fried rice cake was crispy, but the inside retained the soft, slightly sweet chewiness of the rice. This contrast of soft and crisp played out like a duet between their teeth as they chewed.

The gentle, lingering sweetness of the rice, blended with its natural fragrance and the unique aroma of deep-frying, was already enough to make their eyes light up. But paired with the rich brown sugar syrup, it was a finishing touch that transformed plain rice into an irresistible delicacy.

A dish like this was the perfect thing to soothe a stomach rumbling with hunger in the morning.

Connie and Ah Huai exchanged a glance, both seeing the surprise in the other’s eyes.

"Hmm, this one’s also good. It doesn’t look too complicated to make, so... I guess it works."

"Alright, on to number three."

Ning He checked the batter she’d made earlier with rice flour and soybean flour; the powders and water had now fully combined. She lit the stove again, heated the oil, and carefully ladled some of the batter into a wok ladle before lowering it into the hot oil to fry.

What Ning He was making was a classic snack from a city in her past life famous for its carb-heavy breakfasts: Mianwo.

But just like with the rice cake, she had to adjust the recipe due to limited time and equipment. Mianwo was supposed to be made from a paste of soaked and ground rice and soybeans. Ning He had used flours instead. And while she’d added baking powder for fluffiness, the layered aroma of fresh soybeans was simplified, sacrificing a certain degree of crispiness and texture. Without the complex fragrance of scallion and ginger, Ning He wasn’t sure if this dish would be enough to satisfy Connie.

Frying Mianwo was a lot like making Lampshade Cakes. First, it was best to use a mold to get the classic shape—thin in the center and thick around the edges. Second, the wok ladle had to be kept scorching hot, or the batter wouldn’t release properly.

But Ning He was a seasoned pro, so the process went smoothly. Several golden Mianwo were fried and taken out of the pan in no time.

Connie and Ah Huai had a taste. Ning He tried a piece as well.

CRUNCH—

Fresh out of the pan, the simplified Mianwo was still acceptably crispy.

Lacking the flavor boost from scallion and ginger, the Mianwo tasted more like a simple fried dough wafer. However, the soybean flour gave it a golden crust and a distinct bean fragrance, which lent it a unique character.

"This one looks pretty plain," Connie mused, "but if we sold it cheap, I suppose it could work."

"Then let’s try the last one."

Ning He brought out the first dough she had prepared.

After resting for over two hours, the dough was ready. She shaped it, cut it into long strips, then gently stretched each strip by its ends before dropping it into the hot oil. Catalyzed by the heat, the dough quickly puffed up and began to turn a beautiful golden brown.

Fried dough sticks. The ingredients were simple, the method wasn’t too complex, and almost everyone loved them. They had been an obvious addition to Ning He’s list of candidates.

Connie and Ah Huai watched Ning He’s practiced movements, then glanced at the three breakfast dishes already laid out before them. A peculiar feeling stirred in their hearts.

’This woman... she really seems to know how to make a lot of things.’

"All done," Ning He said, presenting the fried dough sticks. "These are called youtiao. You can eat them plain, or with congee, soy milk, or even a calcium supplement."

Ning He placed the freshly fried youtiao in front of the two of them.

Fresh from the fryer, the youtiao were golden and glistening, with a savory, crispy bite. Compared to the Mianwo, their texture was much fluffier—soft yet chewy. As for the flavor, one was made of rice and soybeans, the other of flour and an alkaline agent. Without any other seasonings, the difference wasn’t actually that significant.

Connie had finished an entire stick before she even realized it. She cleared her throat and said, "Same as the last one. If it’s not too expensive, it should sell well."

After she spoke, her gaze swept over the four breakfast dishes in front of her. She had just given her approval to practically every single one.

Connie knew she was sold.

"In that case, let’s discuss the specifics of how we’re going to sell these."

Ning He’s eyes lit up. "You agree?"

Unsettled by her intense gaze, Connie turned her face away slightly.

"I mean we can talk."

"Great! Then let’s talk!"