Chapter Ten: Winning Hearts with Delicious Food

It was not an easy task to create a successful food column. After discussing with the magazine editor, Chen Xin decided to try producing an issue first.

The first installment featured three dishes: Cold Fern Salad, Crispy Pork Knuckle, and Steamed Cake.

Fern was a common wild vegetable in the region, particularly favored by people in the mountains for cold salads. It could also be made into fern root noodles, delicious whether boiled or served cold. The Book of Songs even mentioned fern: “On the southern hills, they gather fern; before seeing the gentleman, worry fills the heart. Once seen, joy fills the heart.” The “fern” referenced here was the same vegetable eaten today. Chen Xin used to enjoy it, but since experts found that certain substances in fern might be carcinogenic, she only ate it occasionally, mostly during hot summer days; it was not suitable for regular, large consumption.

She chose this dish for a trial run because few people ate fern, especially in the southern region where the magazine was based, making it novel and potentially appealing to readers.

After harvesting, fern was broken into finger-length sections, blanched, drained, and neatly arranged on a white porcelain plate. In a small bowl, soy sauce, aromatic vinegar, salt, MSG, pepper oil, and a touch of sugar were mixed, then topped with sliced red chili rings. After stirring, the sauce was poured over the fern. The result was tangy, spicy, and sweet—a perfect appetizer for summer.

Crispy Pork Knuckle was a local specialty derived from Dongpo Knuckle, known for its emphasis on sour, spicy, salty, and aromatic flavors.

After cleaning and removing the hair from the knuckle, it was singed over a wood fire until the skin turned golden and bubbled. This step was crucial for achieving the desired tender skin—no shortcuts were allowed.

While Chen Xin cooked, aside from Teacher Lu, who was in charge of photography, everyone else dragged stools over to chat and comment on her methods, all eager to sneak a taste. Chen Xin was amused by their shamelessness in pursuit of good food.

Despite her complaints, she kept working.

They used the shop kitchen for its large pots and suitable stove heat. After washing and draining the knuckle, Chen Xin massaged the skin with dark soy sauce. When the oil in the pot reached seventy to eighty degrees, she added the knuckle, frying until the skin was golden, then drained off the oil. Next, she coated it with pepper salt, let it sit for ten minutes, and only placed it in the steamer basket once the steam was rising.

"It needs to steam for about an hour. Aren’t you going to grab a bite to tide you over?" Chen Xin pulled out some green onions to peel, finely chopped bean paste, ginger, and garlic, and filled small dishes with peppercorns and diced red chili. Having already photographed the knuckle, she now needed to take pictures of the beautifully arranged condiments in glass bowls and white porcelain plates, all set on a market-sourced tablecloth. With careful placement, the photos turned out particularly refined.

Originally, the knuckle looked rather rustic, but on the camera’s screen, it appeared anything but greasy—a very appealing presentation, promising a delightful taste.

After steaming for forty to fifty minutes, Chen Xin tested it with a chopstick; it slid in easily, signaling the meat was tender.

She carefully lifted the knuckle onto a large porcelain plate, and the remaining broth in the basin was perfect for making sauce.

She sautéed ginger, garlic, peppercorns, and bean paste over low heat for aroma, then poured in the leftover broth, adding more stock as needed. Once boiled, she added a splash of soy sauce for color, then the chopped red chili for half a minute, followed by a cornstarch slurry to thicken the sauce. Finally, the sauce was poured over the knuckle and garnished with green onions. The result: a richly flavored, crispy pork knuckle.

The last dessert, Steamed Cake, required a special mold—rarely found in home kitchens. If less particular, one could use small bowls for steaming, though the texture wouldn't be as perfect as with the mold.

Steamed Cake could be colored with various vegetable juices and filled with sweet or savory fillings—even meat floss. The most bizarre version Chen Xin had tasted was made with blood rice and Lao Gan Ma chili sauce—a combination she would never forget.

The most time-consuming among the three dishes was Crispy Pork Knuckle, but it also garnered the most praise, especially among men. The rich sauce and perfectly balanced fat and lean meat made each bite burst with flavor, and dipping it in the sauce delivered a bold, irresistible taste.

"This meat is delicious, Xin! How about I go buy two more knuckles? You could make them for me to take home so both my parents and your cousin’s parents can try?"

"Sure, why don’t you head out soon?" After all, the shop was usually used by Uncle Tie and his wife for lunch and dinner, so Chen Xin didn’t want to take up too much time.

Uncle Tie and his wife had no complaints—in fact, they even offered to let Chen Xin use the kitchen all day if needed.

"That won’t do. I have to keep Zhang Zhang company tonight, and honestly, the knuckle is amazing the first time, but after eating it a few times, it gets a bit heavy."

"Heavy? I could eat this knuckle every day and be happy! Too bad I can't cook, and the little restaurants near my house can't make anything this special."

Teacher Lu, a man with a healthy appetite, spent generously, mainly on his photography hobby and, secondly, on food. Whenever he heard of good food somewhere, he’d gather his friends to go taste it, so he often joked about having countless “drinking buddies.”

Originally, he was reluctantly recruited by Teacher Song to photograph Chen Xin’s dishes, agreeing only out of friendship, but now he wished Chen Xin would call him for photos every day—giving him a legitimate excuse to enjoy her cooking.

Chen Xin, seeing Teacher Lu’s expression, felt secretly delighted. She knew that chubby people were often food lovers; once a bit arrogant, Teacher Lu was now totally hooked, his little eyes shining with anticipation. She was sure that if she cooked a few more times, this plump Teacher Lu would gladly volunteer, even at his own expense.

Indeed, before leaving, Teacher Lu pulled Chen Xin aside, suggesting she let him know in advance what dishes she planned to make so he could bring ingredients and have her prepare an extra portion for him to take home.

It was only a bit more work, so Chen Xin readily agreed. She wouldn't take advantage—whatever Teacher Lu deserved, he’d get. In the long run, with the internet growing, Teacher Lu might become her best partner.

She also wanted to maintain a good relationship with Teacher Song and his wife. After spending time with them, Chen Xin found them both wonderful. Teacher Song had the aloofness of a scholar but was kind, gentle, and good-hearted. Compared to the straightforward Teacher Song, his wife Cheng Jie was a bit more formidable, but only toward outsiders. She had already embraced Chen Xin and her aunt as family, and unless Chen Xin made serious mistakes or faced major conflicts of interest, she believed Cheng Jie would always be willing to look out for her.

Coincidentally, the next day was the weekend. Chen Xin prepared some new breakfast dishes at the shop and packed a variety of them into lunch boxes.

"Song Auntie, I’m going over to the old house to see Grandma Liu. I’m taking Zhang Zhang with me—please keep an eye on the shop."

Breakfast hours had passed; Uncle Tie had gone out to buy ingredients for lunch, leaving Song Auntie and Yang Yi at the shop. Though Yang Yi was young, he could help pack breakfast, while Song Auntie handled payments. With few customers, the two managed easily.

Chen Xin pushed a stroller to Grandma Liu’s house. The stroller was a gift from Cheng Jie, whose parents had brought it from their hometown—a bamboo model with a small tray in front for toys, perfect for feeding. Of course, little Zhang Zhang was well-mannered and ate by himself in the stroller, never troubling his aunt.

When she arrived at Grandma Liu's building, she happened to meet the neighbor’s child going upstairs. The child was considerate, helping Chen Xin carry her bag so she could manage the stroller and the chubby baby together up the stairs.