With her physique boosted threefold, Su Zhu felt invigorated, as if she had endless energy!
The beef was already simmering; next up was kneading the dough!
For hand-pulled noodles, the quality hinges mainly on the dough and the broth.
Take the dough, for example — first, you must choose high-gluten flour so that the resulting dough is chewy and elastic.
Kneading the dough is the soul of hand-pulled noodles. If this step isn't done well, it's impossible to make delicious hand-pulled noodles!
There's an old saying: "Seventy percent kneading, thirty percent pulling," which directly shows how crucial kneading is.
Besides choosing the right flour, water temperature is also very important. Typically, in winter, the dough is kneaded with warm water around 15°C; other seasons use cold water. This way, the dough develops excellent stretchiness and flexibility.
In addition to these rules, kneading also involves traditional techniques like "three times water, one time ash," "three rests, three kneads," and so on.
But these tips only apply to ordinary hand-pulled noodle chefs. For Su Zhu, who inherited a max-level family skill in noodle making, apart from selecting high-gluten flour, the other methods seem somewhat inferior.
Kneading, pressing, rolling, squeezing, and slamming... over twenty kilograms of dough tumbled and shifted in Su Zhu's hands, constantly changing shapes.
After half an hour, the dough was perfectly kneaded — soft yet firm!
Next came the resting stage. Resting the dough allows the gluten to develop.
While the dough rested, Su Zhu didn't idle. After going to the backyard to cover the blanket Chenchen had kicked off, she began simmering her secret family recipe hand-pulled noodle broth, chopping scallions and cilantro, and frying chili oil...
Su Zhu chose the 3rd to 10th vertebrae bones and the shank bones of the Xinjiang yellow cattle for the broth. These bones have the richest marrow, plus tendons and collagen, making the broth extremely flavorful and nutritious.
Meanwhile, in a luxurious private room at the Qing Teng Women's Club near the West Second Ring Road in Zhonghai City, a few women were drinking and singing. On the table were red wine, beer, and fruit plates. Lin Fanglong sat among them, his eyes somewhat glazed — clearly quite drunk.
"Here's to you, Brother Lin Fanglong, may you shake off that yellow-faced hag and regain your freedom!" a red-haired woman toasted him.
He clinked his glass with hers, downed the wine, pulled her into his arms, and shouted, "Long live freedom!"
A woman in a purple cheongsam said, "Brother Lin Fanglong, are you really divorcing? I've met your wife — she seems like a nice person. She gave up her career to take care of your daughter's treatment for two years. Women like that are rare. You should reconsider."
"She's got no career!" Lin Fanglong spat with undisguised disdain. "Just a lousy hand-pulled noodle shop, working like a dog to make a mere ten thousand a month — you call that a career?!"
"Let me tell you," Lin Fanglong waved his arms, breath reeking of alcohol, "this kind of woman is the fakest — no skills but loves to brag!"
"You know what she said when she took my daughter away this afternoon?"
"She said, 'It won't be long before we live a life hundreds of times better than now!'"
"Can you believe it? She's living in a seven or eight million yuan house and shamelessly says it'll get a hundred times better!"
"What, does she expect to live in a palace?"
"She actually thinks she's a princess!"
"You know what? That's late-stage delusion. Funny, huh?"
The women burst out laughing, finding it a bit ridiculous, even over the top.
After catching his breath, Lin Fanglong continued, "Tomorrow at 10:30 a.m., she and I will go to the Civil Affairs Bureau to file the papers!"
"I bet she'll cry, act pitiful, apologize, and beg me to get back together. She might even kneel because without me, she might starve. Don't believe me? Follow us tomorrow and see if I'm wrong!"
"If she really does that, will you soften?" someone asked with a grin.
"Soft? I'll spit in her face and slap her hard!" he replied.
"With my current situation, any woman would come running. If she thinks I'd get back with her, she's dreaming!"
"Alright then, I'm free tomorrow. I'll come along for the show. I've never seen a woman throw such a pitiful tantrum — crying, yelling, and threatening to hang herself!" the red-haired woman teased.
Lin Fanglong waved his hand, "You'll see tomorrow — she's the most spineless woman ever!"
"Come on, enough about this crap. Let's drink! Brother Lin Fanglong's in a good mood today — we won't stop till we're drunk!"
Su Zhu kept working until 2:30 a.m. before finishing all the preparations for the day's business.
The beef was stewed and cooling, ready to be sliced.
Su Zhu tasted a slice — the beef melted instantly in her mouth. She ate four or five pieces in one go. If it weren't for her reason telling her she had to sell the meat, she could have eaten more!
She had worked with beef daily for years and was already tired of it. But now, if she let herself, she could eat at least a pound.
"With beef this good, it's impossible not to make money!"
Su Zhu only prepared enough for 100 bowls today. After such a long closure, the first day wouldn't see many customers. Making too much would mean waste — and waste meant losing money! And money was what she needed most.
Her main goal today was to keep customers coming back, then rely on their word of mouth to spread the fame of her noodles.
Summer dawns early; by 6 a.m., it was already bright outside.
Su Zhu opened the rolling door and rehung the cleaned noodle shop sign. The Hand-Pulled Noodle House officially opened.
Not long after opening, a Jinbei van stopped in front of the shop. A burly middle-aged man with a full beard got out.
He glanced at the shop and then came in, calling out loudly, "Su Zhu, Su Zhu!"
Su Zhu came out and smiled, "Zhao Meng, opening so early today?"
Zhao Meng, the bearded man, owned the hardware store about ten meters from the noodle shop.
He shook his head, "Not opening, I'm heading to restock and stopped by to grab something. Then I saw you open!"
"How's Chenchen? Better?"
"Better, better. Thanks for asking, Zhao Meng."
"That's good. The kid's had a tough couple of years."
"So, you're running the shop yourself again?" Zhao Meng pointed at the shop.
Su Zhu nodded, "Yeah, doing it myself."
"That's great, girl. Give me a bowl, still with the thin noodles. Haven't had your cooking in a while — I've been craving it."
"Sure thing, Zhao Meng. Take a seat. Your noodles will be ready soon."
Su Zhu turned back to the kitchen to cook.
While Su Zhu cooked, three more people came in — all nearby shopkeepers or residents, coming to ask about Chenchen's health.
After the last one sat down, Su Zhu rubbed her tired eyes. At the hardest time, she was grateful for this warm-hearted neighborhood support. Otherwise, she didn't know if she could have made it through.
In Chenchen's first year in the hospital, one merchant brought Su Zhu 30,000 yuan, saying it was a token from the neighbors. Su Zhu still didn't even have a donor list.
Zhao Meng's noodles were soon ready. Su Zhu added extra meat — a usual practice she kept over the years to treat her neighbors well.
Ivory-white, hair-thin noodles topped with a layer of dark brown cooked beef slices. The soup beside it floated with green cilantro and scallion bits. The colors alone were irresistibly appetizing!
"Wow, smells amazing!"
As Su Zhu set the bowl in front of Zhao Meng, he sniffed deeply, grabbed his chopsticks, and took a bite. His eyes widened. Ignoring the heat, he opened his mouth wide and shoveled a large mouthful of noodles in.
The three neighbors in the dining room stared in disbelief. One called out, "Old Zhao, haven't eaten in days? Is it that good?"
Zhao Meng didn't respond, not even looking up, just kept shoveling noodles.
In less than a minute, he finished the entire bowl, leaving only half a bowl of broth with scallions and cilantro.
But that wasn't all. Zhao Meng grabbed the bowl, "gulp gulp..." and quickly drank all the soup.
Wiping sweat from his forehead with two napkins, he shouted to the kitchen, "Su Zhu, make me another bowl!"
"This is insanely good!"
"I swear, how can noodles taste this good?!"
"Damn, I bit my tongue eating too fast!"
"This flavor is hopelessly addictive!"
One neighbor joked, "Zhao Meng, since we're neighbors, aren't you overdoing the hype for Su Zhu?"
"Hahaha, yeah, Su Zhu, how much did you pay him to perform like that? Look at him, all sweaty!"
"No kidding, we've had Su Zhu's noodles before — the taste is good, but not that good. Good thing he has a small mouth or he'd have eaten the whole bowl!"
Just then, Su Zhu came out carrying three bowls on a big tray. Seeing Zhao Meng's empty bowl, she was surprised: "Old Zhao, you're fast! Didn't even take three minutes to finish. Aren't you afraid of burning your mouth?"
"Cut the crap, get cooking! I'm dying for noodles, hurry up!" Zhao Meng waved her off.
"Alright, alright, the noodles are already in the pot, coming right up."
She put down the three bowls, greeted the three neighbors, and turned back to the kitchen to cook.
This book is provided by FunNovel Novel Book | Fan Fiction Novel [Beautiful Free Novel Book]