The Game of Life

Lunch was what they nicknamed “butcher’s feast,” not complete, but that didn’t matter when Sir’s cooking skills were top-notch.

A pot of new sauerkraut with blood sausage and white pork stew, a platter of various well-braised offals, crispy pork slices, hand-torn pork, stir-fried lettuce with garlic, and egg drop soup. Except for the stir-fried lettuce, each dish was served in a large bowl, not only delicious but also in generous portions.

Jiang Jianshe adored crispy pork slices, but regretfully, his cooking skills were not up to scratch. He could only enjoy Sir¹ s cooking during the Lunar New Year, so naturally, he seized the opportunity and focused solely on the crispy pork slices.

The crispy pork slices Sir made had a golden hue and a sweet taste, with just a hint of sourness, but predominantly sweet. The meat itself was golden, and the sauce which was thickened to perfection, was also yellow and transparent. Poured over the already crispy meat, it looked like sparkling, translucent amber from a distance. Plus, this time Sir had leisurely decorated it with two sprigs of tender green onions, making the presentation first-rate.

Seeing the crispy pork slices, Jiang Jianshe’s eyes almost popped out, and he kept chewing on them non-stop, like a perpetual motion machine.

Half the dish had vanished before he realized it.

“Dad, leave some for us!” Jiang Junqing was enraged.

At the Jiang family dining table, it was always the survival of the fittest, but that only applied between brothers. If the wife, kids, or father had objections, no matter how good one was with hands or mouth, one had to bow down.

“Alright, alright, I won’t eat anymore, I’ll eat rice, eat rice!” Jiang Jianshe begrudgingly went to eat his rice.

The platter of assorted offals wasn’t getting much attention, mainly because the offals hadn’t been braised long enough. They were just there to make up the numbers. Given another couple of days of marinating until the juice thoroughly penetrated, turning the offals into the color of the marinade, they’d taste just right. Even in the morning, pairing these offals with porridge would let someone slurp joyously without pause.

Jiang Feng ate absentmindedly, his mind preoccupied with the fire control for caramelizing sugar. When he snapped back to his senses and took a closer look,

The crispy pork slices, gone.

Hand-torn pork, gone.

The sauerkraut with blood sausage and white pork stew, the blood sausage,

gone.

Jiang Feng: ???

Are you guys devils?

Jiang Feng hadn’t even finished his first bowl when Jiang Jiankang had already started on his third.

Zet City is located in the south, and even though the Jiang family members all have northern stomachs, it’s difficult to find northern bowls there. However, the Jiang family members all love vegetables, and their pursuit of rice is merely to accompany vegetables or to fill up when vegetables are lacking, so there’s no such scene as everyone refilling their bowls seven or eight times during the Lunar New Year¹ s meal.

As for whether there is enough food on ordinary days, that depends on the mood of the cook.

Jiang Feng looked towards Jiang Jiankang, who had four pieces of blood sausage in his bowl.

Jiang Jiankang was happily enjoying his sauerkraut, and instantly felt his son’s gaze He turned around and saw that apart from the plain rice, there was nothing else in Jiang Feng’s bowl, and his chopsticks were held in hand without reaching for the food.

“My boy, why the daze? Eat some vegetables!” Jiang Jiankang said, then glanced around the dining table.

Umm…

“Eat the lettuce, eat the lettuce, isn’t that your favorite?” Jiang Jiankang said.

Jiang Feng: ???

Jiang Feng continued to stare at the blood sausage in his dad’s bowl without saying a word, strongly implying something.

Jiang Jiankang: ?

S(°A°III)I

Seeing Jiang Jiankang’s expression, Jiang Feng knew he understood, and spoke up, “Dad, I haven’t even had a taste of the blood sausage Sir made today.” “Didn’t you eat it yesterday?” Jiang Jiankang retorted reflexively.

“…That’s different, yesterday was yesterday, today is today.”

Jiang Jiankang fell silent. There was nothing he could do; after all, it was his own son. If his ability to snatch food wasn’t on par, it was his fault as a father for not teaching him well.

Heaving a sigh, Jiang Jiankang picked out a piece of blood sausage, broke it in half, then in half again, and picked out the smallest piece to give to Jiang Feng, saying earnestly, “Your grandfather’s blood sausage is quite tasty today.”

Jiang Feng: ?

“Jiankang, give me a piece of blood sausage,” Mrs. Wang Xiulian spoke up. Right on the spot, Jiang Jiankang took the biggest blood sausage from his own bowl and gave it to Wang Xiulian, attentively asking, “Wife, do you want more?”

Jiang Feng: ???

Oh, man!

“No need, I’m good after finishing this bowl. Son, do you want some? I can share half with you,” Wang Xiulian asked.

“…Yes, thank you, Mom!”

Oh, selfish.

After dinner, it was the happy couch potato time for everyone; the sense of fullness made nobody want to move, whether flopping down in a room or sprawling out in the yard.

“Feng, shall we start simmering the tender sauce now?” After resting for about thirty or forty minutes, Jiang Weiming asked.

“All right,” Jiang Feng stood up. He didn’t know if others were happy, but he certainly hadn’t enjoyed this meal-he had not even eaten a piece of blood sausage and had only tasted a bit of sauce dipped with his chopsticks from the sweet and sour pork.

Oh, right, Mr. Jiang Jiankang was also not happy, as the large piece of tender blood sausage he gave to his wife was halved by his unlucky son.

The “tender sauce” is achieved when, during the sugar-frying process, big yellow bubbles start to form and water is added right after that without further simmering. For Jiang Feng, who always struggled to control the fire just right for the final caramelization stage, making the tender sauce was easier than frying sugar for coloring.

But it was only relatively easier.

The first batch of tender sauce he made was a bit too orange. Jiang Weiming didn’t comment but instead said to Jiang Feng, “You taste it.

Jiang Feng dabbed a tiny bit with his chopsticks.

Seems… a bit too sweet.

Jiang Feng was uncertain and hesitated, “Is it a bit too sweet?

“You still haven’t mastered the timing,” Jiang Weiming said, “You got anxious and poured the boiling water before the bubbles had fully formed in the pot. The more you fry the sugar, the darker it gets, and the lighter the sweetness becomes. Seasoning is one aspect, but coloring is even more important than seasoning. Just look at this tender sauce you made, the color is clearly not right, not dark enough.”

“Frying sugar is about more than just feeling; it also tests your eyes and tongue. Come on, let me showyou how it’s done. But indeed, your tender sauce is better than the caramel color,” Jiang Weiming said, as he started to demonstrate personally.

Jiang Feng’s tender sauce was better than the caramel color because he had seen Jiang Jiankang make it before. The authentic Kung Pao chicken uses tender sauce for coloring and seasoning, and although the supermarkets offer alternatives like rock sugar soy sauce and dark soy sauce, to achieve that authentic taste, one must make it from scratch.

Of course, when Jiang Jiankang cooked Kung Pao chicken for customers, he used ready-made seasonings, and at Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, the Nine Turns Intestine dish was simply cut and rolled pig intestines rather than the premium version that required over a dozen pig intestines to serve. Apart from his own family, Jiang Jiankang was never willing to put in extra effort.

Jiang Feng had seen Jiang Jiankang make tender sauce, and in his opinion, it was already quite good. But compared with what Jiang Weiming made today, it was nowhere close.

Jiang Weiming’s movements throughout were as smooth as flowing clouds and water; from the moment the sugar water hit the pan, he had a mental scale, knowing exactly when to stir, when to skim, when to add hot water and finish. There were no hesitations, everything was precise, with swift decisions.

The tender sauce had a lighter than orange-red color and was a bit thick, like diluted syrup. Jiang Feng tasted it, and it was still a bit sweet, but not as exaggerated as the batch he made before.

Even if Jiang Feng couldn’t tell fine from coarse, he could see that this tender sauce, if used for Nine Turns Intestine, would be excellent.

“Do you understand?” Jiang Weiming asked.

“I understand.”

“Can you do it?” Jiang Weiming asked again.

“Uh…” Jiang Feng didn’t dare to say he could do it. His brain got it, but sometimes his hands had a mind of their own.

“Alright, you try again,” Jiang Weiming wasn’t hard on him and handed the pan back to Jiang Feng.

*Sweet and sour pork is really delicious, too bad I don’t sell it here”–

I only found out recently through social media that northerners eat a lot. As the number one foodie in my family, I can eat up to 16 dumplings in one sitting 0I