"Grandma, I’ll definitely learn it well!" Zhou Yan said with a smile.

Red chili oil is used extensively in Sichuan Cuisine. Zhou Yan had actually already mastered how to make it—the spicy oil used in his tossed noodles was a form of red chili oil.

Still, Zhou Yan was curious about what made the red chili oil for cold dishes different.

Since his grandmother was willing to teach, he was certainly eager to learn.

Mrs. Zhang opened the bag she had brought with her that morning. She pulled out several oil-paper packets containing sesame seeds, pepper, and other spices. "The chili oil I use for my cold-tossed chicken is made with three types of chili peppers..." she began to explain.

Following Mrs. Zhang’s instructions, Zhou Yan first cut half of the three types of chilies—bullet head, Erjingtiao, and Shizhu Red—into segments. He stir-fried them over low heat until they were crisp, then took them out of the wok and finely chopped them with a cleaver, making sure to leave a bit of texture. The other half of the chilies were pounded into a fine powder.

He heated the wok, poured in a basin of rapeseed oil, and added spices, green onions, and ginger. The green onions and ginger were simmered over medium-low heat until golden brown, then removed and discarded. The pot of oil was already incredibly fragrant.

When the oil reached a medium-high heat, he removed the wok from the fire and first ladled two spoonfuls of hot oil over the sesame seeds.

SIZZLE!

The sesame seeds tumbled in the hot oil, their fragrance wafting out. The sesame-infused oil component was now ready.

After the oil in the wok cooled slightly, he ladled a spoonful over the coarsely chopped chili flakes. Amidst a sizzling sound, he quickly stirred it with chopsticks. He poured in the rest of the hot oil in several additions, taking care to both fully release the chili’s aroma and prevent the flakes from burning due to excessive heat.

It was a task that required skill. Zhou Yan was cautious yet decisive, his movements quick and efficient, ensuring he didn’t miss the window of perfect oil temperature.

Finally, he added the fine chili powder and stirred, then mixed in the sesame-infused oil until it was well-combined. He ladled the remaining oil from the wok into the basin, one spoonful at a time. The chili powder bubbled in the oil, and a fragrant, spicy aroma mixed with the scent of sesame assaulted the senses.

[A serving of high-quality red chili oil]

The Identification system quickly delivered its sharp critique.

"Not bad. You do know how to make red chili oil," Mrs. Zhang said, her eyes filled with gratification.

Zhou Yan smiled and said, "I learned the basic method from Master, but it’s definitely not as fragrant as the one you taught me, Grandma."

Frying the rapeseed oil with spices, green onions, and ginger was more troublesome than his original method, but the resulting chili oil was indeed much more fragrant.

The added cost was minimal, but the enhanced aroma would give customers a better experience.

’I wonder if this chili oil would make the tossed noodles taste even better,’ Zhou Yan thought.

With the red chili oil done, the chicken was also nearly cooked. He turned off the heat and let it sit, covered, for another ten minutes. This would prevent the chicken skin from breaking and help the meat retain its texture.

Mrs. Zhang recited the recipe for the cold-tossed chicken’s dressing to Zhou Yan.

Zhou Yan jotted it down in his small notebook. He would get to watch Mrs. Zhang mix it herself later; with the recipe in hand, he was confident he could master at least seventy or eighty percent of her technique.

This was a star dish at the Zhou Family’s New Year’s Eve dinners. A whole free-range chicken would be set on the table, and it would be gone in a flash.

The workload for the cold dishes at a thirty-table banquet was substantial, and the prep work took up the whole morning.

At nine o’clock, the meats were lifted from the braising pot and left to cool in two bamboo baskets. The pig ears, pig snouts, and pork head meat had all taken on a glistening, reddish-brown hue and looked incredibly appetizing.

Three braised pig trotters were particularly eye-catching, placed separately in a small basket.

Why three?

Because Zhou Yan and his grandmother were splitting one and eating it right now.

The braised trotter was lifted from the pot, still warm. It was split in half down the middle, and they grabbed it with their hands to gnaw on.

The skin slid right off the bone with a gentle bite. The tendons between the bone and meat were soft and gelatinous, with a pleasantly chewy and bouncy texture. After soaking for an hour, the braising liquid had completely permeated the meat. One bite was so intoxicatingly fragrant that you just couldn’t stop.

Finishing half a trotter left him wanting more, his lips feeling sticky from the collagen.

This was what the older generation called "lip-sticking goodness"—a sign of food so rich it made your lips stick together.

’So good! I love it! I want more!’

’It’s just a shame the guests won’t get to enjoy such a delicious braised pig trotter.’

It couldn’t be helped. A pig only has four trotters, and whenever a family in the village butchered one, they would send the feet to Mrs. Zhang.

Mrs. Zhang loved eating pig trotters and was an expert at braising them. Anyone fortunate enough to be rewarded with half a trotter from her would be overjoyed for weeks.

Zhou Yan had earned the right to eat half a trotter today only because he was the one who’d done the cooking. It was his reward from his grandmother.

For the past two years, only Zhou Momo had been able to eat them.

This alone was a clear indicator of how much Mrs. Zhang doted on her youngest granddaughter.

That half-trotter was immensely satisfying, soothing both body and soul after a long, busy morning.

’So amazing!’

’Tomorrow, I’m going to buy some pig trotters and braise them myself.’

’I’m going to eat a whole one all by myself. I won’t share a single bite!’

’Not even if Zhou Momo shows up!’

His grandmother leisurely finished gnawing on her trotter. A few bare bones appeared on the plate, with not even a scrap of tendon left. Only then did she nod and say, "Not bad. Almost as good as mine."

"I’m still far from it. To reach your level of skill, I’d have to practice for another ten years," Zhou Yan replied with a smile.

Getting his grandmother’s approval meant his braising technique could be considered a minor success.

After washing his hands, Zhou Yan started packing everything into a large back-basket. Now that the pig trotter had filled his stomach, it was time to transport the braised and cold dishes to the venue. He needed to start slicing the meat and plating it in preparation for the noon banquet.

The four roosters had shrunk noticeably after being boiled. Their pale yellow skin looked very firm.

Luckily, the chickens had been raised plump. There was still over four pounds of cooked meat left. Once sliced and dressed, each plate would contain over half a pound of meat—a generous portion.

Mrs. Zhang had already calculated the exact amount of seasoning needed for four chickens. She had him pack the dry spices in one bag and put the red chili oil in a separate jar. The other ingredients, like green onions and ginger, had been prepared by Mrs. Zhao that morning.

He placed a layer of cheesecloth over some oil paper, put the meat into the back-basket, then covered it with another layer of cheesecloth and a final sheet of oil paper. This made for clean and hygienic transport.

After locking up, Zhou Yan gave his grandmother a ride and leisurely pedaled towards Zhou Village.

With his grandmother keeping an eye on things, his timing was perfect.

They arrived at Zhou Village at exactly ten o’clock.

When Zhou Yan stopped his vehicle, Mrs. Zhao hurried over. She first helped Mrs. Zhang dismount, then whispered to Zhou Yan, "Is it going to be okay?"

"It’s a sure thing," Zhou Yan replied with a confident nod.

Mrs. Zhao lifted the cheesecloth. The sight of the glistening, reddish-brown pig ears and pork head meat instantly put her worried heart at ease. They looked completely indistinguishable from the ones Mrs. Zhang made herself.

The rich aroma of the braised meat wafted up, and Mrs. Zhao, who had been busy all morning, couldn’t help but swallow.

"You made this?" Mrs. Zhao couldn’t help but ask.

"Yes. Grandma gave the instructions, and I did the work," Zhou Yan nodded. "I’ve learned the recipe. We can start selling it tomorrow."

"What? So soon? You... aren’t you going to practice a couple more times?" Mrs. Zhao was a bit surprised. The decision seemed too hasty.

Zhou Yan thought for a moment and said, "Well, let’s see the guests’ feedback later. If everyone thinks it’s good, we’ll start selling."

"That’s a solid plan," Mrs. Zhao agreed, a sense of anticipation building within her.

Back in the day, Mrs. Zhang’s braised meats were unrivaled in all of Suji. People still talked about them after all these years.

If Zhou Yan could learn her technique, they could probably increase their income significantly just by selling the braised meats alone.

"Oh my! These braised pig ears and pork head meat look amazing! Did Zhou Yan make them?"

"That color is so appetizing! You can tell it’s delicious just by looking at it!"

The women who were helping with the prep work gathered around, clucking in admiration as they looked at the braised meats Zhao Tieying lifted from the back-basket.

"That’s right, my Zhou Yan made them. He learned from his grandmother," Mrs. Zhao replied with a proud smile.

"He learned from Mrs. Zhang?" everyone asked, turning to look at the old woman herself.

"That’s right, he learned from me. And Zhou Yan made these today," Mrs. Zhang admitted openly, giving Zhou Yan her public endorsement.

"Then we’re in for a real treat today! We used to only get to eat Mrs. Zhang’s braised meats around the New Year."

The women chattered excitedly, their eyes gleaming as they stared at the braised meats.

Who in Zhou Village didn’t crave Mrs. Zhang’s braised meats?

’I wonder how much of her skill he’s learned,’ they thought. ’And will he sell these in the future?’

The vegetable cutting area had been cleared. Zhou Yan carried the braised meat and chicken over, ready to start work.

In a wok nearby, oil was heating up. Zheng Qiang stood before it, carefully sliding marinated carp into the hot oil one by one. The wok sizzled and hot oil splattered.

Zheng Qiang’s expression was grave, and he paid no mind to the splattering. This was the only dish he was personally responsible for today. He had to give it his all and show the guests the true standard of Rongcheng Restaurant.

Zhou Yan glanced over, curious to see how a top chef from Rongcheng Restaurant made red-braised fish.

"Want to learn?" Xiao Lei had wandered over at some point. Looking at Zheng Qiang, he said, "When it comes to making fish, he’s learned a good bit of his master’s true skill."

"His master?" Zhou Yan asked, looking at Xiao Lei in confusion. "Master, you know Master Zheng’s master?"

"He’s my senior apprentice-brother. What do you think?" Xiao Lei chuckled. "He even wrote to me last month asking me to come work at Rongcheng Restaurant."

Zhou Yan: ?

’Then why do you keep calling him "Master Zheng" with such respect?’

’If Master Zheng ever finds out, he’ll want to find a hole to crawl into and die.’

’Poor Master Zheng...’