Lu Yan had already started another round of bustling preparations.
Today, she overheard several customers discussing the Double Ninth Festival and suddenly realized that the festival was almost here. The weather had already turned cold.
It wasn’t that she was planning to do any special business for the Double Ninth Festival itself. The real reason was that the festival came right before Frost’s Descent, the last solar term of autumn. Winter would arrive soon afterward.
And once winter came, many things would become difficult to buy.
So Lu Yan purchased another hundred jin of flour, several large baskets of potatoes and sweet potatoes, and hauled them home. As usual, she stopped by the butcher’s shop and bought some meat. Then her eyes landed on the pile of offal the butcher had set aside, and she asked how much it cost.
The pile contained everything—heart, liver, stomach, lungs, and intestines. Offal was fishy and smelly, and people nowadays preferred boiled dishes, so hardly anyone ate it. It was extremely cheap, the same price as large bones: three wen per jin. Since Lu Yan was a regular customer, the butcher was even willing to knock off another wen.
Thinking about how braised pork intestines in modern times sold for over forty yuan per jin, Lu Yan didn’t hesitate for a second and bought the entire pile.
Potatoes and sweet potatoes kept well. She set aside two baskets for eating and used one basket to make starch. As for another basket, she actually wanted to roast them.
But the family didn’t have an oven.
Lu Yan had been making do until now—even her cakes were steamed instead of baked—but she suddenly felt that this simply wouldn’t do anymore.
If she wanted roasted sweet potatoes, she could bury them beneath the ashes after cooking. But what if she wanted roast chicken or roast duck? What about grilled skewers?
No, she definitely needed to build an oven.
In modern times, such an oven was also called a bread kiln. Ever since a regular guest on a certain farming-and-food variety show had built one in the courtyard, the trend had become popular. A cook who couldn’t build a kiln wasn’t a qualified food blogger.
Lu Yan had built one herself before. It wasn’t difficult.
But there was one big problem. A bread kiln required an insulating layer, usually made with sand, gravel, cement, and glass bottles. Bricks and sand were easy to find. There was no cement, but mortar could substitute for it.
The real problem was: where was she supposed to find glass bottles?
She thought about it for a long time without coming up with a replacement. Just then, Lu Sheng wandered over.
“What are you worrying about?” he asked.
“I want to build an oven for roasting things,” Lu Yan replied. “I’m trying to figure out how.”
“You’re planning to build it yourself?” Lu Sheng said. “Why not find a mason in the village? They all know how to build ovens. The people who sell baked flatbread don’t build their own, either.”
Lu Yan suddenly jumped to her feet and slapped her thigh.
How could she have forgotten? Ancient times already had ovens. Plenty of people knew how to build them. There was no need for her to do it herself.
Lu Yan rushed out, and before long she returned with a mason to build the oven.
While the mason worked, she cleaned the offal she’d bought.
The heart, liver, lungs, and stomach were easy enough to wash, but the intestines were genuinely troublesome. Lu Yan scrubbed them several times with plant ash before they were finally clean.
The entire courtyard reeked of offal.
Even Lu Sheng, who loved watching Lu Yan cook, couldn’t stand it anymore. Leaning against the doorframe with a green face, he asked, “Are you sure this can actually taste good?”
“I’m sure,” Lu Yan said. “Once I start braising it, you’ll see.”
She set aside the liver and sliced the heart, lungs, and stomach into pieces. The intestines were cut into sections about an inch long.
Once everything was prepared, Lu Yan caramelized some sugar, then added her prepared spices and soy sauce. After pouring in water and bringing it to a boil, she tossed in all the sliced offal.
After it came to a boil again, she simmered it for a few more minutes to cook everything thoroughly. She also cut up two radishes and threw them in.
Before long, an overpowering aroma of meat filled the courtyard.
Lu Sheng emerged from the house again, staring in disbelief.
“This… is the smell of offal?”
Lu Yan nodded.
She removed the fire and poured everything—the meat, seasonings, and broth—into a jar to steep.
Braised dishes were different from stews. The ingredients didn’t need to be cooked until they were falling apart. At this stage they were chewy but not tough, just right.
The longer they soaked in the braising liquid, the more flavorful they became.
Lu Sheng was already drooling, but since they couldn’t eat it yet, he could only stare pitifully at Lu Yan.
So Lu Yan took out the liver she had set aside and prepared to make stir-fried pork liver.
There were no green peppers, but they had dried wood-ear mushrooms and daylily buds in the house.
She knew a quick method for rehydrating them. She put the mushrooms and daylily buds into a bowl, poured in warm water, added a spoonful of sugar and a spoonful of flour, then covered the bowl with another one and shook them vigorously.
After about two minutes, she opened the bowls.
The dried ingredients had already rehydrated.
She blanched the sliced pork liver briefly and removed it as soon as it changed color.
Then she heated oil in a wok, stir-fried scallions, ginger, and garlic until fragrant, added the mushrooms, daylily buds, and prepared sauce, and finally tossed in the pork liver. A little starch slurry thickened the sauce, coating every slice of liver before it was ready to serve.
Stir-Fried Pork Liver
The key to this dish was high heat and speed. Otherwise, the texture of the liver would suffer.
Lu Yan had perfect control of the heat, and her sauce was delicious. The liver was smooth, tender, and slightly crisp.
It tasted wonderful.
Lu Sheng couldn’t help sighing.
“Anything that ends up in your hands somehow becomes delicious.”
Lu Yan smiled.
“Tonight I’ll let you try the braised intestines. That’s the best part.”
The mason finished building the oven and left, but it needed a day to dry.
Lu Yan didn’t mind. She hadn’t intended to use it today anyway.
Still, looking at the baskets of sweet potatoes she’d bought, she picked out three and buried them in the stove’s ashes, making an extra snack for the afternoon.
Lu Sheng and Xu Shi scooped out the golden, fragrant sweet potatoes with spoons. They were sweet as honey, and both of them were delighted.
Especially Xu Shi.
Ever since Lu Yan had come, it felt as though the family’s life had improved tremendously. Her mood had brightened, and even her injuries were healing faster. Every day she pulled Lu Yan aside and said that once her leg recovered, she wanted to help her run the food stall.
Naturally, Lu Yan readily agreed.
In fact, she really did want to expand her business. If she saved enough money, opening a small shop would be even better. Then she could sell not only breakfast but also dinner.
Her current daily profit was around two hundred wen, which came to roughly six taels of silver a month.
She had asked around in town before. Renting a small storefront on a busy street cost about two taels of silver per month, usually paid six months in advance.
If she saved for a few more months, she would have enough money.
That evening, Lu Da returned home.
Lu Yan opened the jar and took out the braised meat.
The domineering aroma instantly swept through the room.
Braised meat had an entirely different texture from stewed meat. The flavor was richer and the bite more satisfying.
The pig stomach was wonderfully chewy. The heart was firm yet crisp. The lungs were softer.
But the most delicious of all were the pork intestines.
The one-inch pieces had shrunk by half during cooking, making them the perfect bite size.
One bite and rich juices burst in the mouth. The outer layer was pleasantly chewy, while the inside was full of fat—not greasy at all, only richly meaty.
Braised Pork Intestines
Lu Da and Lu Sheng both froze after taking a bite.
After a long moment, Lu Sheng blurted out, “This stuff must be really cheap, right?”
Hardly anyone bought pig offal. People usually bought it just to feed their dogs.
He truly hadn’t expected the stinky offal from this morning to turn into something this delicious.
“Mm, it’s very cheap,” Lu Yan said with a nod. “But my braising spices are expensive. Turning smelly offal into this flavor isn’t possible without spending money.”
“You’re planning to sell this too?” Lu Da asked. “But if people know it’s offal, will anyone really buy it?”
Lu Sheng, however, didn’t care at all.
“They’ll buy it once they taste it.”
Lu Yan nodded.
“We’ll give it a try tomorrow.”