Chapter 43 Pork and Scallion Buns

Chapter 43 Pork and Scallion Buns

She squatted in front of the large basin, scooping flour with much more dexterity than usual. "Three bowls of all-purpose flour, two small spoonfuls of yeast," she muttered, but almost spilled the yeast into a small mountain with her hands—she quickly stirred it evenly, and while heating the water, she kept muttering to herself while staring at the thermometer: "35 degrees...it can't be too hot, otherwise the yeast will stop working."

Water droplets dripped from the spout into the pile of flour, and the sound of chopsticks stirring was like silkworms gnawing on mulberry leaves. More and more dough clumps gathered, and when she put her hand into the pile, the cool touch made her pause—so this is what kneading dough feels like? Like pinching a cloud, or kneading a living, breathing thing.

"Knead it until smooth!" she remembered from the recipe and increased the pressure in her hands. The dough was initially sticky and clung to the bottom of the bowl, so she sprinkled some flour on it and continued to work with it. Ten minutes later, the dough under her palms was finally soft and springy back when pressed, like the face of a well-rested baby.

"It's done!" She stuffed the dough into the bowl, and deliberately patted it as she covered it with a damp cloth: "Let it ferment properly, it'll taste even better later."

The fermenting dough slowly rose in the bowl, and Su Yingxue turned to rummage through the refrigerator. The ground pork had been bought earlier, three parts fat and seven parts lean. She scooped a large spoonful into a bowl, and the condiment bottles jingled as they were arranged: "Salt, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce... Oh, and sugar for flavor!"

As the chopsticks stirred, the minced meat gradually took on a dark brown color. She smiled, watching the oil splattering around the edge of the bowl: "It's like doing an experiment." The scallions were freshly picked this morning, their vibrant green color glistening with dew, and their aroma wafted straight to her nose as they were chopped. "The last drop of sesame oil!" She added two drops, and the whole bowl of filling instantly came alive, like a garden opened up by the wind.

"The pork and scallion filling is done!" She then turned to prepare the three-ingredient filling—blanching the greens and squeezing them dry, dicing the carrots and shiitake mushrooms, and scrambling the eggs until golden brown. As she stirred the pan, she hummed an off-key song: "Greens, shiitake mushrooms, eggs, so delicious it'll make your eyebrows fall out!"

When the dough had doubled in size, Su Yingxue almost didn't recognize it—the dough that was originally the size of her palm now looked like a plump, white steamed bun, its surface covered with tiny air pockets. She pinched off a piece of dough, pressed it gently, and it bounced back, as if it were playfully teasing her.

"Release the air!" She placed the dough on the work surface and kneaded it. This time it was effortless; the dough was as soft as marshmallows. After rolling it into a long strip, she cut it into small pieces, each one round and plump, like a small glutinous rice ball. When rolling out the wrappers, she deliberately pressed the center out thicker: "If the wrapper is too thin, the filling will easily leak out. I don't want to steam a pot of broken buns." The rolled-out bun wrappers lay flat in her palm, like tiny white suns.

When she first tried to make steamed buns, she fumbled and squeezed out half a spoonful of filling. "It's okay, it's okay, I'll practice more," she encouraged herself. The second one was still crooked, but the third one finally had some pleats—though it looked like it had been scratched by a cat, at least it was shaped like a steamed bun.

When she wrapped the tenth bun, she suddenly noticed that the bun under her hand was round and plump, with eighteen neat pleats on top. "Hey, isn't this pretty good?" She held the bun up to the light, and the skin shone through, revealing the pink meat filling and bright green scallions inside.

The neatly arranged buns sat in a row in the steamer. Su Yingxue stared at them blankly for a while: "Don't you guys explode later." During the ten minutes of rising, the kitchen was filled with the faint aroma of dough, mixed with the savory smell of meat and seafood fillings, making her mouth water.

Once the water boiled, the steamer was placed on top, billowing out and blurring the glass window. She stared at the timer: "Pork buns, 15 minutes; Three-delicacy buns, 12 minutes..." After turning off the heat, she stubbornly resisted lifting the lid, counting to thirty before slowly lifting it—

"Wow!" Plump white buns were crowded in the steamer, their skins so smooth they looked like they were coated with oil, and they even trembled at the slightest touch. You could see the meat juices rolling inside the skin of the pork buns, and the green vegetable leaves of the three-delicacy buns were so vibrant, like jade embedded in white jade.

She picked up a pork bun, blew on it to cool it down, and took a bite—first, the soft, chewy dough, then the meat juice burst out with a "poof," the aroma of scallions mingling with the meat's fragrance, exploding in her mouth. "This is so delicious!" she mumbled indistinctly, then quickly grabbed a three-delicacy bun. The sweetness of the greens and the freshness of the mushrooms swirled on her tongue, even the broth was incredibly flavorful.

The night outside the window grew deeper, and the streetlights shone through the window onto the countertop. Su Yingxue gazed at the remaining buns in the steamer, a quiet smile playing on her lips. It turns out that even the most ordinary food can hold a magic that warms the heart—like these steaming buns, waiting to warm a hungry soul in the dead of night.

She gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, packed the prepared steamed bun dough into an insulated box, and prepared to welcome the first batch of guests tonight.

The clock in the hallway struck 10:30. For the third time, Old Master Hou Defa reached for the lunchbox on the bedside table—it was empty. He stared at the night outside the window, his brow furrowed. "That young lady," he muttered, "promised me some savory pancakes and sliced ​​meat? Why hasn't she shown up yet?"

"Mr. Hou, why are you sitting up again?" The caregiver in the next bed propped herself up. "Didn't I tell you to lie down and rest your back?"

"My savory pancakes..." Hou Defa muttered, getting up and slowly moving towards the elevator in his wheelchair. The lights in the hospital cafeteria were still on. When he asked the caregiver to push his wheelchair through the door, he bumped into Su Yingxue lifting the lid of a steamer. White steam billowed out, and the steamer contained a dozen or so round buns.

"Oh dear, Uncle Hou!" Su Yingxue's hand trembled, almost dropping the steamer. She quickly went to greet him, "Why did you come down? Didn't I tell you to wait in the ward—"

"Wait?" Hou Defa's mustache bristled as he pointed at the empty lunchbox. "We've been waiting for half an hour! Where's the promised savory pancake? Where's the Fuding pork slices?"

A cleaning lady in the cafeteria peeked in, then smiled and smoothed things over, saying, "The young lady probably forgot because she was busy. Please calm down."

Su Yingxue blushed and explained, "I...I tried a new recipe today..." Before she could finish, Hou Defa interrupted her, "Young people are so impetuous! Just a couple of days ago you were telling me you wanted to focus on selling savory pancakes, and today you're making steamed buns?"

He pointed at the steamed buns in the steamer and shook his head: "Look at you, you've only learned the basics, and you're already thinking about changing things up. In business, you have to stick to one thing! I stayed with Houtu Group back in the day, otherwise how would I have survived for decades..."

Su Yingxue clutched the corner of her apron, about to explain, when Hou Defa suddenly noticed a crack in a bun on the top shelf of the steamer, its white skin oozing glistening meat juice. "Ouch!" he exclaimed instinctively, stepping back. "Has it torn again?"

"No, no!" Su Yingxue quickly grabbed two whole steamed buns, placed them on a tissue, and handed them over. "Mr. Hou, please try this first... it's a freshly made pork and scallion bun."

Hou Defa hesitated before taking the bun. It was still steaming in his hand, its surface glistening softly. He leaned closer to smell it; the aroma of scallions mixed with the scent of meat filled his nostrils, and he couldn't help but mutter, "It smells good..."

He froze when he took his first bite.