The Game of Life

Chapter 634: Chapter 632: Recipes from Jiang Weisheng

Jiang Feng had only tasted the Hundred Flavor Soup once, which was the time Jiang Weiming made it at Jiang Yong’s house. To say that one could truly taste the complexity of life in the soup was impossible, and perhaps, Jiang Feng’s palate was not refined enough, but the soup was quite delicious nonetheless.

As for the reduced version called Weird-Flavored Soup, Jiang Feng had drunk it many times. The Weird-Flavored Soup, as the only dish Jiang Weisheng could confidently present at the Taifeng Building, was always on the menu whenever he was in charge of preparing the staff meal.

For Jiang Weisheng, a chef whose talent was not outstanding and who had become accustomed to making Weird-Flavored Soup, with his thought patterns and methods fixed on that recipe, attempting to make Hundred Flavor Soup was indeed quite a challenge.

He was stuck right from the beginning.

Jiang Weisheng felt like he had returned to the days of his childhood when the teacher would call on someone to recite from the textbook. Before being called upon, he was full of confidence, but once it was his turn, he would lose his voice on the spot.

Jiang Weisheng was not like Jiang Feng. He had been drinking Hundred Flavor Soup for decades and knew very well how Jiang Weiming made it. In theory, even if he could only imitate it without fully grasping the essence, he should at least be able to achieve a resemblance of twenty to thirty percent. But now, Jiang Weisheng couldn’t even start— he was unable to select the ingredients.

“Feng, I feel that these ingredients are still too few and not enough. How about… I go to the supermarket and buy some more?” After struggling for seven or eight minutes, Jiang Weisheng decided to buy some new ingredients from the supermarket.

“Mr. Jiang, Hundred Flavor Soup isn’t about selecting specific ingredients, the soup is made with whatever is available!”

“Right, right, right, make do with what we have, make do with what we have,” Jiang Weisheng nodded repeatedly. His confidence didn’t last three seconds before he became uncertain again, “But, these leftover ingredients just don’t go together.”

“Look at this, beef, pork tenderloin, pork belly, onions, cucumbers, tomatoes… The beef is even marinated already. How can you make a soup like this? No soup is made this way!” Jiang Weisheng’s retreat was as loud as a drumroll, he was just short of telling Jiang Feng to hold his position while he went to Yonghe House to buy a couple dozen lotus leaf buns.

Jiang Feng: ?

Are you looking down on my Borscht Soup?

“So it’s up to you to choose. Mr. Jiang, don’t feel pressured. This isn’t a competition or an assessment, just Granduncle Weiming feeling hungry and wanting to eat something. Think about it, the Hundred Flavor Soup fills you up and quenches thirst, and it doesn’t take too long to make. If you keep hesitating like this, you might as well have gone straight to Yonghe House to buy lotus leaf buns. If you keep dawdling, Granduncle is going to end up eating dinner,” Jiang Feng persuaded him kindly, and finally got Jiang Weisheng to start selecting ingredients while still looking troubled.

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Jiang Weisheng took out the beef that had already been marinated earlier, diced it, placed it in a small bowl, and added some more seasonings for a second marination. Then, after hesitating between cucumbers and tomatoes for a while, he chose tomatoes. Just like he had done with the beef, Jiang Weisheng diced the tomatoes into pieces of similar size to the beef.

“Feng, can you marinate the pork belly and then slice it into the pan to fry it out? Let’s draw out the fat,” Jiang Weisheng said.

“Sure,” Jiang Feng washed his hands, picked out a knife that felt right in his hand, and started to carefully slice the pork belly.

The pork belly Jiang Weisheng bought was a bit fatty, but slicing it into thin slices after a simple marination and then pan-frying it to bring out the aroma was more than appropriate. Within just a minute or two of adding the meat to the pan, the aroma filled the air, along with fat from the pork belly rendering out, a thin layer of lard clinging to the bottom of the pan, indicating the ratio of fat to lean on this piece of pork belly.

“Mr. Jiang, should I take the pork belly out now?” Jiang Feng felt that the Fire Control was just about right and asked Jiang Weisheng, who was busy blanching the beef.

“No need to take it out, just turn down the heat a bit. Feng, can you help me by tossing the diced tomatoes into the pan and stir everything together?” Jiang Weisheng was busy dealing with beef and couldn’t free his hands.

Frying diced tomatoes with pork belly was something Jiang Feng had never seen before, but today’s commander-in-chief in the kitchen was Jiang Weisheng, and Jiang Feng, as a foot soldier, naturally had to follow orders, so he did as he was told.

As soon as the tomatoes were added to the pan and stirred a couple of times, Jiang Weisheng took the spatula from Jiang Feng’s hand and poured in the blanched beef dices to stir-fry with the tomatoes. Once nearly every piece of beef started glistening with oil, Jiang Weisheng added in the onions that he had chopped earlier, gave it a quick stir-fry, then turned the heat to low and reached for a bottle of ketchup that was already halfway used from the cupboard, pouring the rest into the pot. After adding water and bringing it to a boil on high heat, he lowered it to medium.

Although it didn’t smell quite like it, the soup was beginning to somewhat resemble Borscht Soup.

The soup was still in the pot, and Jiang Feng wasn’t sure about the taste. But watching Jiang Weisheng cook, he felt this pot of soup was definitely becoming quite interesting.

Borscht Soup, when it comes down to it, is all about following one’s instincts—whether those instincts are right or wrong depends entirely on the chef’s skill level.

It was just a mystery where the inspiration for this chaotic mixture of pork lard-fried beef, stir-fried tomatoes, and onions plus a hodgepodge of ketchup came from.

The soup was simmering in the pot, and Jiang Feng stood by.

“Mr. Jiang, how did you come up with the idea to make soup like this? I’ve never seen anyone do it this way before,” Jiang Feng remarked.

“My old lady made it like this when she was young. I suddenly remembered it while looking at these ingredients,” Jiang Weisheng said, not idle, as he began washing bok choy.

“Was it good?”

“It wasn’t tasty.”

Jiang Feng: ?

“But it had a rather unique flavor. Actually, I can’t remember what exactly was used, but I do remember that time when she fried pork belly, fresh beef, and tomatoes together, creating something with such an odd taste that, remarkably, I’ve remembered it for many years.” With nothing else to do, Jiang Weisheng simply started telling Jiang Feng about Zhang Li’s shady past.

“Because it was bad?” Jiang Feng imagined the dish must be quite grim.

“I don’t remember. I don’t recall the taste at all, but I do remember that she made this dish,” Jiang Weisheng shook his head, flinging the water off the bok choy and placing it in a clean bowl.

“Don’t let Madam Zhang’s usual silence or her apparent reluctance to interact deceive you; she may seem difficult to get along with, but she’s actually very easygoing. She has no other hobbies—she simply loves to eat. She started out that way when she was young, and I would never have been able to court her if she hadn’t been such a food lover.”

“Madam Zhang graduated from a technical secondary school, and back then, she was an accountant at a textile factory. You can’t imagine how prestigious and dignified her job was. If it hadn’t been for the cook at their factory breaking his leg and being unable to work, which led to me being temporarily sent to fill in at the textile factory’s canteen, I might never have had a chance to strike up a conversation with your Madam Zhang.”

“So Madam Zhang fell for you because of your good cooking skills?” Jiang Feng asked.

“No, she fell for me because of Granduncle Weiming’s good cooking skills,” Jiang Weisheng said.

Jiang Feng: ???

“Back then, I wasn’t even formally employed; at best, I was a temp worker. My monthly salary wasn’t even half of what Madam Zhang made. How could she possibly look up to me? In our days, chasing girls wasn’t as bold as it is now. You guys dare to confess in public, even on TV. Back then, it was considered audacious if I could sneakily pass her a note or slip her a piece of paper,” Jiang Weisheng excitedly said, his face animated.

Perhaps every older person enjoys telling younger ones about the past, especially when it comes to matters of the heart and grand achievements.

“I was helping out in their textile factory’s kitchen at the time, right? Not only did I help cook, but sometimes I had to cover for someone at the serving window on short notice, and that’s when I saw Madam Zhang. Our families lived on opposite sides of the town; there was no chance for us to meet under normal circumstances.” Jiang Weisheng started rambling, “I was shy at that time. Since I wasn’t an employee of their factory, I didn’t even dare to pass her a note. Later, I thought of a way—I decided to bring her breakfast.”

“But I couldn’t afford meat buns at that time, so I gave her the vegetable buns that Granduncle Weiming left for me in the mornings.”

“And that worked?” Jiang Feng couldn’t believe it. Jiang Weisheng managed to win over his wife with just a few vegetable buns.

“Of course it worked, because at that time, Madam Zhang thought I made the buns,” he said.

“But later on, Madam Zhang found out you didn’t make those buns, right?” Jiang Feng said.

Jiang Weisheng had an “you just don’t understand” look: “What does it matter? Granduncle Weiming would always leave food for me, and every time I went on a date with Madam Zhang, we would bring our lunchboxes. I ate from hers, and she ate from mine. After a while, when we had been together long enough, Granduncle Weiming got to know her too. If he cooked something nice, like meat buns or pork and cabbage dumplings, he would even make a point to save some for her.”

Jiang Feng seemed to understand why, the first time he went to Jiang Weisheng’s house, Zhang Li could stay so naturally in her room without coming out until it was time to eat, and then she would automatically come into the living room to get her bowl and eat.

She was used to it.

“What was with that dish Madam Zhang cooked, the beef with Wuhua pork and tomatoes stir-fry?” After listening to Jiang Weisheng for so long, Jiang Feng suddenly realized they had strayed off topic.

The original topic was inspiration, but it ended up being about love.

“That dish, well, Madam Zhang liked to eat it, right? But she didn’t know how to make it. Usually at home, she could only cook noodles, make a bowl of rice, at most smash some cucumbers. Once it came to turning on the stove and frying something, that was beyond her,” Jiang Weisheng explained. “It might be slightly better now, but in her youth, she couldn’t even stir-fry cabbage properly.”

“However, I was naturally a chef, so it didn’t matter whether she could cook or not.” Jiang Weisheng lifted the pot lid, glanced at the soup inside, and turned the fire down slightly.

“She made that dish when she was pregnant. I remember, she was about to give birth and stayed at home on maternity leave. Granduncle Weiming and the other chefs from the state-run restaurant, knowing that she was close to giving birth and needed to eat well for nutrition, pooled together some beef and Wuhua meat for me to bring home and cook her a few good meals.”

“Back then, meat was precious, and in the summer, with no refrigerators at home, fresh meat couldn’t be kept. We didn’t want to cook all of it in one go, so we fried a little each day, stretching it out. Eventually, when there was just a little bit left, there was a banquet in the neighboring county and the master chef took me along. In my hurry, I completely forgot about the meat at home and just left.”

“And then what happened?” Jiang Feng pressed.

“Then Madam Zhang had no choice, did she? I was away and couldn’t return home, and although she didn’t know how to cook, she couldn’t just watch the meat spoil at home, so she bit the bullet and cooked both pieces of meat together,” Jiang Weisheng said.

“But why were there tomatoes?” Jiang Feng asked, puzzled.

“Well, when I cooked the meat, I always mixed it with vegetables. She just imitated what I did, grabbing a couple of tomatoes and throwing them in the pan with the meat.” Jiang Weisheng couldn’t help but laugh at this point.

“That’s why they say a woman becomes foolish for three years once she’s pregnant. She’s usually so astute, but she just wasn’t as sharp during her pregnancy. I was accompanying the master chef in the neighboring county for three days. When I got back, she hadn’t finished the dish. She didn’t have the heart to eat it all and had saved almost half of it for me. Afraid that the dish would spoil, she reheated it every few hours, even getting up at night to warm it on the stove now and then, not sleeping well for days.”

“Although the dish didn’t taste good, it wasn’t bad at all,” Jiang Weisheng said, his eyes brimming with amusement.

Jiang Feng instantly understood why Jiang Weisheng, seeing those ingredients, thought of the strange dish Zhang Li had made for him.

If a person could have such a dish once in their lifetime, how could they ever forget it?

As they talked, it was time for the strange-flavored soup to be ready.

The soup in the pot had turned completely the color of tomato soup, though it smelled not only of tomatoes but was oddly aromatic overall.

But after hearing the story Jiang Weisheng had told him, Jiang Feng felt the scent wasn’t so strange anymore.

Jiang Weisheng put the washed bok choy into the hot soup to blanch, and a few minutes later, he turned off the heat. The soup was done.

“Ding! Congratulations to the player for obtaining Jiang Weisheng’s recipe: Hundred-Flavor Soup.”

“Oh dear, now that I’ve made this soup, I just don’t know if it tastes good or if the beef is tender enough. Feng, would you like to give it a try for me?” With the soup ready, Jiang Weisheng began to get nervous again.

“Sure!” Jiang Feng eagerly went to find a bowl, ladled himself a small portion of the Hundred-Flavor Soup, which looked very much like borscht, and blew on it.

“Mr. Jiang, don’t worry, I think the soup you made today will definitely be delicious,” Jiang Feng said with a smile.