Chapter 197: Radish and Bone Soup
[“It turns out the subsidy isn’t as much as we thought. Part of it is given out directly as eggs and milk. Teacher Zhang explained it very clearly.”]
[“I can tell Teacher Zhang is the kind of person who is sincere and has high ideals. She’s dedicated her whole life to rural education, staying unmarried and childless. Slandering her is really crossing the line.”]
[“Unbelievable! Can these media outlets stop taking things out of context?! They’re already reposting the part that questions Teacher Zhang!”]
[“These unscrupulous media outlets are going too far. Have they ever thought about how Teacher Zhang would feel if she saw this?”]
[“I was skeptical at first, but now I regret it. Some media outlets are just plain scummy.”]
[“Look! The production team’s response was so fast! And their tone is really firm!”]
[“And the official state media came out to debunk the rumors directly. I love how fast they are, hahaha!”]
[“I hope Teacher Zhang doesn’t see any of this from start to finish. I don’t want her to get her feelings hurt.”]
…
Teacher Zhang was diligently peeling potatoes.
Her movements weren’t particularly nimble.
Her eyes, which had grown cloudier with age, had also become a hindrance.
After working hard for a long time, she had only peeled about ten potatoes.
But it was countless times more tiring than moving the vegetable baskets.
The thought that there were still two large baskets of potatoes left made her…
Huh?
Where did the potatoes go?
SWISH SWISH SWISH.
A rhythmic, melodic sound reached her ears.
Teacher Zhang’s gaze shifted, and her eyes widened in astonishment—
Nan Zhi held a small knife in one hand and a potato in the other, her movements the very picture of nonchalance.
She barely looked down, yet her hands moved so deftly they nearly left afterimages.
The bright glint of the blade flashed, and potato peels as thin as a cicada’s wings rustled down.
Of course.
To Nan Zhi, this was nothing special.
Potatoes are plentiful and cheap, making them perfect for practicing knife skills.
Every chef’s training began with the “sacrifice” of countless potatoes.
Peeling potatoes was just a basic skill, nothing to be amazed by.
But that wasn’t necessarily the case from Teacher Zhang’s perspective.
At first, she was too shocked to speak.
Then, she stammered,
“T-Teacher Nan, were you a p-professional potato p-peeler before?”
Nan Zhi considered the question seriously before answering:
“A semi-professional chef, I suppose.”
‘Since it wasn’t a full-time job, or even her main profession, describing it as semi-professional… yes, that seemed perfectly reasonable.’
[“The vast community of chefs in Hua Country has fallen silent.”]
[“Boss Nan, oh Boss Nan, what am I, an aspiring top chef of Hua Country, supposed to do now?”]
[“If this is ‘semi-professional’, then all the actual professional chefs can just hang up their hats.”]
[“That’s being a little too humble.”]
[“Teacher Zhang actually believed her? All you people who were secretly slandering her earlier, take a look. Does this look like a scheming person?”]
[“You can’t blame Teacher Zhang for being too naive; it’s just that Nan Zhi’s tone was so deadpan. If I hadn’t watched the first two livestreams, I’d have believed her too!”]
…
Teacher Zhang’s mind had already performed an automatic substitution—
‘Semi-professional’ equals ‘amateur.’
Which also equals ‘hobbyist.’
Realization dawned on Teacher Zhang:
“Oh, so Teacher Nan enjoys cooking.”
This time, Nan Zhi nodded.
‘It was more than just enjoyment; it was a passion!’
Teacher Zhang suddenly suggested:
“In that case, why don’t you be in charge of one dish for lunch, Teacher Nan? I’m planning to make two dishes and a soup today: braised pork with potatoes, stir-fried napa cabbage, and radish and bone soup. You can pick one.”
After all, it was her first day at the school.
Nan Zhi didn’t try to take over all the dishes, instead saying:
“I’ll take care of the radish and bone soup, then.”
Teacher Zhang nodded seriously:
“It seems your cooking skills are quite good, Teacher Nan.”
“They’re decent enough.”
[“Nan Zhi, ‘My cooking is decent enough’! What is this, modern-day humble-bragging!”]
[“Waiting for Teacher Zhang’s jaw to hit the floor!”]
[“Radish and bone soup doesn’t seem very difficult. I want to see a showstopper! A main course!”]
[“Just make some Wensi Tofu and blow everyone away!”]
[“Are you ordering from a menu here? Stop treating Nan Zhi like she can do anything!”]
…
There are many ways to prepare radishes, and different varieties call for different cooking methods.
The basket in front of Nan Zhi contained large daikon radishes, each as thick as a child’s arm. They were a soft, ivory white. Once peeled, they were crisp, tender, and sweet, full of moisture. They also held up well to long stewing, their flavor deepening over time, making them perfect for a soup with pork ribs.
The village school cafeteria couldn’t afford expensive, meaty ribs. Instead, they used large soup bones, with the meat scraped almost completely clean, and there were only two or three small ones at that.
At most, their purpose was to add a hint of meaty flavor to the otherwise bland radish soup; they served no other function.
Fortunately, upon seeing the limited ingredients, Nan Zhi had already formulated a plan—
She took a cleaver and split the large soup bones lengthwise.
Then, she used fresh water to thoroughly wash away any remaining blood from the bones.
Next, she placed them in a pot of cold water, added scallions, ginger, and cooking wine, and blanched them until not a single trace of scum remained.
She then seared the bones in a hot, oiled wok, using the high heat to render the fat from the bones until they turned a golden-brown.
At this point, she added boiling water and simmered it over high heat until the soup turned milky white. She then covered the pot and let it stew, waiting until the flavor of the bones was fully released before adding the chopped daikon.
Nan Zhi performed this series of actions in a systematic, unhurried manner.
Beside her, Teacher Zhang was dumbfounded:
“Making radish and bone soup… is it that complicated?”
Nan Zhi was puzzled:
“Hm? This is considered complicated?”
Teacher Zhang said, as if it were obvious:
“Yeah, don’t you just throw the bones and radishes in a pot and stew them together?”
Nan Zhi vaguely had a bad feeling.
She then looked past Teacher Zhang and saw the cutting board in front of her.
Instantly, Nan Zhi fell into a long silence.
Teacher Zhang was bewildered:
“What’s wrong? Is something not right?”
Nan Zhi looked at the potatoes on the cutting board, which were hacked into mismatched, messy pieces, and the limp napa cabbage that looked like it had been violently washed. She couldn’t help but recall Teacher Zhang’s earlier boast that her “cooking skills are quite good.”
‘Hmm, perhaps they each had a different definition of “quite good cooking skills”?’
Soon, Nan Zhi thought she had found a reasonable explanation—
‘It might not look good, but it’s very efficient. And maybe it tastes good, too?’
‘After all, Teacher Zhang was cooking for over fifty people all by herself, and she wasn’t a professional chef. How could she be expected to get every detail perfect?’
‘Yes, that’s right. That must be it.’
Having convinced herself, Nan Zhi took advantage of the time the soup was simmering to go help Teacher Zhang.
Although Teacher Zhang was curious about Nan Zhi’s “complicated” method of cooking radish and bone soup, it wasn’t enough to make her doubt her own culinary abilities.
She confidently wanted to show Nan Zhi her excellent cooking skills, stating that the students loved her food and always smiled happily when they ate it.
Then, Teacher Zhang personally demonstrated the meaning of “doing as one pleases” and “acting on a whim.”
Nan Zhi’s voice kept piping up—
“Wait, can you just toss the potatoes in like that?”
“Wait, you’re not going to sear the pork belly?”
“Wait…”