Chapter 163: Making Fermented Bean Paste and Pickling Salted Duck Eggs

Rock left, and Liu Heming continued to support the restaurant for seven more days before finally managing to withstand the crazy pancake craze.

The popularity of the pancakes repeatedly exceeded his expectations. Even now that things had basically stabilized, he still sold over six hundred sets every day, which left him quite puzzled.

Finally having a bit of breathing room, he started banging away in the small Blacksmith Workshop he had built on his ranch.

If he wanted his Jianbing Guozi to stand out, he had to rely on these special “enhanced” Iron Griddles. When he got tired of making the griddles, he would study how to make Knives.

Western chefs could display over ten Knives of various sizes, while he only had two, which was a bit lacking. After all, he felt that he should separate the Knives for cutting vegetables from those for cutting meat, and the ones for chopping bones from those for deboning. Raw and cooked foods also needed to be handled with different Knives; otherwise, he would have to clean the Knives repeatedly.

It must be said that John provided a lot of help in his blacksmithing endeavors. Most of his materials came from John, with only a small portion purchased online. Good materials weren’t cheap, and if he wanted to create Knives with excellent properties, he needed quality materials.

Just as he was hammering away enthusiastically, John came looking for him.

“I noticed you seem to enjoy fiddling with these things even more than I do now,” John said with a laugh.

“Preparing for the future, in case I end up opening pancake stalls in every major city across the United States,” Liu Heming replied with a smile.

“I found a second-hand oil press for you. I really don’t understand—isn’t it convenient to just buy ready-made oil?” John shook his head and asked.

“John, thank you so much for that. It mainly comes down to the differences in our culinary cultures. You guys prefer using Butter and olive oil for cooking, but I prefer using soybean oil when I cook,” Liu Heming explained with a smile.

“Plus, most of the oils available outside are blended oils. Every manufacturer claims their product is healthy, but who knows what else they add during the oil extraction process? It’s more reassuring to make it yourself. Once we set it up and start pressing our own oil, I’ll let you taste what it’s like to cook with our homemade oil.”

“Oh no, I almost forgot to make one more thing.”

At the end of his sentence, Liu Heming slapped his forehead.

After coming to the United States, he had managed to find many seasonings with a bit of effort. Last time, Liu Yi had brought him a very comprehensive set of seasonings from Chinatown.

But there was one seasoning that was hard to find. Not just in the United States—even in China, it was difficult to buy in some cities. It wasn’t anything particularly valuable; it was simply the Fermented Bean Paste commonly eaten in Northeast China.

Don’t underestimate this seemingly inexpensive paste. You could eat it directly with Dipping Vegetables, use it to cook fish or make Stew, or even use it to pickle vegetables. The savory aroma was simply incredible.

He had wanted to make this paste himself for a while. The process wasn’t complicated; he remembered his family making it every year when he was a child. But lately, he had been so busy with the restaurant that, even though the Soybeans had been harvested, he had forgotten all about it.

This paste couldn’t be made quickly; it had its own set of steps. If he started making it now using traditional methods, the earliest he could eat it would be next year.

Once he thought about making the Fermented Bean Paste, Liu Heming couldn’t wait any longer, even pushing back the oil pressing. He went to the Warehouse and brought out a large bag of Soybeans. He planned to make plenty of the paste, with some set aside specifically for pickling vegetables.

He washed the Soybeans, put them in a pot, added water, and started boiling them over high heat.

When Alex saw him busy outside, she thought he was making something delicious and happily ran out of the house.

“Little greedy cat, you can’t eat this today, but you can help Dad out in a little while,” Liu Heming said, pinching his daughter’s small nose.

“Dad, let’s roast some eggs to eat. It’s been a long time,” the little girl said, nodding and then pleading coquettishly.

“Alright, then we won’t cook lunch today. We’ll eat only roasted food and roast some Potatoes too,” Liu Heming agreed unconditionally.

After the Soybeans were cooked, he scooped them all out and, while they were still hot, mashed them thoroughly.

“Dad, are you making soybean paste?” Alex asked curiously.

“Dad is making a type of Fermented Bean Paste that we can only eat next year. In a bit, you can help Dad shape them,” Liu Heming said as he mashed.

The little girl wrinkled her nose; she had just been thinking of scooping some out to taste.

Once the Soybeans were mashed, he set them aside. They were still too hot to shape into paste blocks. The fire in the stove was about right, so he started putting the prepared Potatoes and eggs into it in batches. He put in quite a lot, filling it up.

After a moment’s thought, he found two large jars, scrubbed them clean inside and out, and then washed all the duck eggs the family had saved.

He filled a pot with water, brought it to a rolling boil, and added a lot of salt.

He was going to pickle salted duck eggs. This was a little trick—using the saturated saltwater method. This way, the salted duck eggs would become oily quickly, have a fragrant taste, and not be overly salty.

Alex, who had been following him around, grew even more curious, completely unable to figure out what her dad was doing.

Liu Heming didn’t explain to the little girl; this was a surprise for her. He was sure she would love the salted duck eggs once they were ready.

After preparing the two large jars of salted duck eggs, he placed them in an empty room. He also warned the Bear Kids not to go there and cause trouble.

With all that done, the mashed Soybeans had cooled down. Liu Heming and his daughter washed their hands and sat down beside the large bucket.

Having Alex help him was really just a way to play with her; no matter how she shaped the paste, her little hands weren’t strong enough.

Liu Heming also prepared a cutting board nearby—this was very important because the final step in making the paste blocks was pounding: pounding the shaped blocks tightly. This helped with fermentation and locked in the oil inside the blocks.

When Alex saw Liu Heming enthusiastically pounding the paste blocks, she became very interested too. However, her strength was still too little. Even though her paste blocks were small, her pounding didn’t have the same force as her dad’s.

After pounding the paste blocks, Liu Heming wrapped them in paper. They needed to ferment for a long time, and without wrapping, they would gather a lot of dust. He didn’t want to end up eating paste full of dirt.

Looking at the paste blocks spread all over the ground, both Liu Heming and Alex felt a great sense of accomplishment. Even though the little girl didn’t know what these were for, she had taken part in making them.