The process of making braised goose was tedious and incredibly time-consuming.
It began with the brine. The cleaned geese were soaked for at least six hours in a mixture of alcohol, scallions, ginger, and salt. The master stock, or “lu shui,” required its own preparation. Because the goose demanded a richer, more profound flavor, a vast array of spices was needed. These had to be tied in cloth pouches and blanched beforehand to remove any lingering bitterness or medicinal aftertaste.
Li Yao took her aged master stock, added an equal amount of fresh water, and threw in the spice pouches, oil, salt, a dash of soy sauce, and a touch of brown sugar for color. After bringing it to a rolling boil, she let it simmer for thirty minutes to ensure the flavors were perfectly melded.
She then placed the pre-blanched geese into the fragrant liquid. They were braised over medium heat for twenty minutes until the meat softened, then moved to a low simmer for another hour. Finally, she used fine bamboo needles to prick the skin, allowing the liquid to penetrate the meat, and let them steep in the stock for another hour.
When she pulled them out to cool and brushed them with a layer of rendered fat, the skin immediately took on a lustrous, golden sheen.
Since their financial situation had improved, the family was eating meat nearly every day, and they were accustomed to the constant scent of spices drifting from the kitchen. But today, the children were drooling again.
“Mother,” He Xiaoya said, her eyes wide. “This braised goose smells even better than the regular braised meat!”
Well, of course, Li Yao thought. Look at the cost of the spices involved.
“Mother, is it done?” little Wang Xiaosi pressed, unable to contain his impatience. “Can we eat it now?”
“Not yet.”
For the perfect braised goose, there was one final, essential step: a second, gentle braising. After letting them rest for a few hours, she simmered them over a very low flame for another two hours. When she finally pulled them out, their skin had turned a deep, rich mahogany. She knew she had succeeded. She let them cool once more and applied a final layer of fat to keep the skin vibrant and moist.
By the time the four perfect geese were finished, the sky was already beginning to lighten. Exhausted, Li Yao had He Xiaoya chop up one whole bird, piling it onto large platters alongside bowls of rice. This was breakfast.
A good day’s work begins with a hearty breakfast.
After eating their fill, the children felt a surge of energy. Even though they hadn’t gotten to eat any the night before, the first bite made the wait worth it.
“It’s so fragrant! It’s ten times better than the braised offal!”
“The meat is so tender; it practically melts in my mouth!”
Even the usually poised He Xiaoya discarded her manners, licking her fingers just like the rest of them.
Li Yao was satisfied with her work. After breakfast, she took the remaining three geese to the market. She left the third son to man the stall while she and Dazhuang headed toward the local restaurants. Baichuan Market had four main establishments: He’s, Liu’s, Zhang’s, and the Jing-shui Pavilion. She intended to partner with all of them to maximize sales.
But as the saying goes, the ideal is plump, but reality is lean.
At the first three restaurants, the managers didn’t even wait for her to finish her pitch before ordering their waiters to “escort” them out.
“A woman who sells offal thinks she can talk business with a real restaurant? What a joke!”
Dazhuang was indignant, his spirit dampened by the rejection. Li Yao, however, remained unfazed. She simply turned and walked toward the final one: He’s Restaurant.
“Manager, do you have a moment?”
“Isn’t this the Li lady who sells the braised food?” Manager Fan, who had just opened for the day, looked up and recognized her immediately. “What brings you here?”
“I’d like to discuss a small business opportunity with you.”
“Certainly,” Manager Fan replied, his face lighting up. He stepped out from behind the counter with a polite nod. “Please, upstairs. Waiter, brew some tea!”
He knew all about Li Yao’s braised food; it was a phenomenon at the market. He had even bought some to taste and instructed his own chefs to replicate it, but no matter what they tried, they couldn’t capture that exact, intoxicating fragrance. Now that Li Yao was offering a partnership, there was no way he was going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
Settled into a private room upstairs, Dazhuang pulled out half of a braised goose. As the rich, intoxicating aroma filled the air, Manager Fan began to feel deeply embarrassed. He was a seasoned restaurant manager who had long ago grown jaded toward fine food, yet his mouth was watering uncontrollably before he’d even taken a bite.
Swallowing hard, he turned his attention to the bird. The skin was a deep, mahogany brown, gleaming with a glossy finish that looked incredibly tempting. He poked the meat with his chopsticks; it yielded effortlessly, indicating it was tender and perfectly braised, yet the bird had kept its shape flawlessly. For this alone, many professional chefs would have paled in comparison.
“Manager Fan,” Li Yao said, “why don’t you have a taste?”
“Right, right. I’ll have someone chop a few pieces immediately.”
Manager Fan started by sampling the breast and leg meat—the parts hardest to infuse with flavor—before trying the belly, where the marinade soaked in most easily. After a thorough, thoughtful tasting, he gently set his chopsticks down.
“Well?”
Manager Fan pondered for a moment before replying, “I’m not a man of many letters, so I can’t find the right flowery phrases. I can only say this: it is the most delicious goose I have ever eaten in my life.”
Hearing such an appraisal, Li Yao knew the deal was sealed.
The discussion then shifted to price and volume. After slaughtering and braising, a goose lost about 40 percent of its weight, and with the high cost of the spices, the cost per catty of the finished product was roughly 45 wen. However, the organs could also be sold for the same price, which helped. Li Yao quoted a wholesale price of 100 wen per catty, giving her a profit of 55 wen per catty—or about 400 wen per goose.
Manager Fan agreed to the price without a second thought.
“Let’s start with three geese a day,” Manager Fan proposed. “If you agree, Li, I’ll take one today to start.”
Li Yao shook her head. That wouldn’t do. If he started with just one bird and waited for word-of-mouth to spread naturally, it would take days for sales to ramp up. Since this was a long-term partnership, she felt that sharing a few business secrets would be mutually beneficial.
As she laid out her plan, Manager Fan’s jaw literally dropped. In his twenty years as a manager, he had never heard of such a marketing tactic.
How does this woman think of these things?
“Splendid! Let’s do it!”
He bought all the braised geese she had brought. He kept half for formal service, and the other half he had chopped into tiny, bite-sized morsels. These were heaped onto large platters and set up right at the entrance of the restaurant.
“Step right up! Come and get a taste!”
“He’s Restaurant is proud to introduce a new signature dish—He-wan Village Li’s Braised Goose! Free samples for everyone!”
“Limited quantities, first come, first served!”
As soon as people heard the word free, passersby swarmed the entrance. The waiters scrambled to maintain order, using thin bamboo skewers to hand out individual pieces to the crowd.
“This is incredible!”
“Is this really goose meat? How is it so delicious?”
“It’s too small, can I have another one?”
“One per person, I’m afraid,” the waiters chimed, seizing the opportunity to promote the dish. “If you want to sit down and enjoy a proper meal, please, come inside! We guarantee you’ll have your fill!”
In less than an hour, the news that He’s Restaurant was launching a new dish spread through the entire Baichuan market. Those who had tasted it raved about it, describing the goose as if it were a celestial delicacy. Those who hadn’t tried it yet, hearing that it was free, flocked to the scene. The entrance to He’s Restaurant was packed so tightly that not even a drop of water could get through.
However, to the managers of the other three competing restaurants, this lively scene was nothing but a colossal joke.
“Feeding these paupers won’t bring a single one of them in to buy wine. It’s a complete waste of a good product,” one sneered.
“I wonder if the owner of He’s Restaurant will cough up blood when he hears about this,” another laughed.
“Mark my words, Manager Fan will be kicked to the curb by tomorrow.”