The Game of Life - Chapter 507

Chapter 507: Chapter 505 Whole Lamb Banquet

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The Whole Lamb Feast, as the name suggests, is to make various dishes using different cooking methods according to the distribution of muscle groups on the whole lamb carcass.

Unlike roasting a whole lamb, the Whole Lamb Feast nearly uses every edible part of the lamb, with the number of dishes ranging from over 30 to more than 80. Although it’s called a Whole Lamb Feast, far more than one lamb is required. If only one chef were to do it, he would work himself to exhaustion without finishing it.

“Grandpa, don’t you think preparing a Whole Lamb Feast is a bit too much? Besides, the few sheep we have at home won’t be enough, right?” Jiang Feng said, looking worried.

There was only one Sir, and he must be treated with great care.

“We’re not making some particularly formal Whole Lamb Feast. Slaughter a sheep, cook the various parts, and make a few dishes—that’ll do,” Sir said.

“Go and deal with this Wuhua meat, slice it up, and call your dad to come in and make sauerkraut. Let the others go about their business instead of crowding around the yard; get the places that need cleaning done. It’s already the 29th, and home is still a mess, everyone acting like they can’t see a thing.”

“Furthermore, Feng, once you’re done with the Wuhua meat, go to town to fetch your grandma and help her with her things. If your grandma hasn’t bought the marinated goose, go ahead and buy it. The shop will probably be closed tomorrow,” Sir instructed.

“Didn’t Junlian and Junqing bring back a couple of geese? Why buy marinated goose?” Jiang Feng asked, puzzled.

Though the marinated goose from that time-honored shop in town is not bad, it pales in comparison to Sir’s cooking. Basically, no one asks for it every year, and in the end, Mrs. Jiang is the one who finishes it off by herself.

“Your grandma likes it,” Sir said, tying on an apron to start processing pork. “Also, buy a couple more bags of flour when you’re out. We’ll make more dumplings on New Year’s Day, and we don’t have enough flour at home.”

“Okay, Grandpa,” Jiang Feng nodded, showing he remembered, and then went outside to pass on the orders.

After receiving the orders, the members of the Jiang Family scattered to their respective tasks—those who needed to be in the kitchen went to the kitchen, and those who had to go back to the hall went back to the hall.

Ten minutes later, Jiang Zaidi, who had gone next door to Li Cuihua’s house to collect the pig offal, returned successfully. Though Li Cuihua mentioned she would give just a little offal, the amount was definitely substantial—a conservative estimate would reveal at least five or six sets. Jiang Feng even suspected that other families knew that Sir would make marinated meats with the pig offal every year, so they brought all of their own pig offal over.

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Since Jiang Zaidi brought back the pig offal, the glorious yet arduous task of processing it naturally fell to him.

The man in question, Jiang Zaidi, expressed his feelings: regret, he was brimming with regret in that very moment.

By the time Jiang Feng had finished dealing with the Wuhua meat, washed his hands, put on his down jacket, and walked out of the kitchen ready to go to town to find Mrs. Jiang, the inexperienced Jiang Zaidi was still sitting in the yard with a face full of gloom and regret, cleaning the pig intestines.

Jiang Feng hadn’t seen this familiar scene for a long time. Back in the day when he and his three brothers were still learning to cook, they would sit in a row in the yard, washing intestines together.

“De, put more effort into kneading. Otherwise, the smell won’t come out clean. And remember to flush it with water at least twice after scrubbing,” Jiang Feng reminded after observing Jiang Zaidi’s half-hearted pig intestine washing technique.

Jiang Zaidi heaved a deep sigh, not understanding how the plot had turned out this way.

“Little brother, where are you off to?” Jiang Zaidi asked.

“Grandpa asked me to go to town to bring Grandma back and buy some more stuff on the way,” Jiang Feng replied.

Seeing Jiang Feng actually got to go on an outside errand, Jiang Zaidi sighed with envy, “Little brother, do you know what dishes Grandpa is planning for the reunion dinner tomorrow night?”

“Grandpa said he’s mainly preparing lamb dishes this year,” Jiang Feng said with a smile.

As soon as he heard the reunion dinner would mainly feature lamb dishes, Jiang Zaidi’s spirits were lifted, “What kind of lamb dishes? Roast whole lamb? Roast lamb ribs? Roast lamb leg? Braised lamb?”

“He didn’t specify the dishes. Grandpa said he plans to slaughter a sheep and use all parts suitable for dishes,” Jiang Feng reported truthfully, with no omissions.

Jiang Zaidi fiercely rubbed the pig intestines in his hands, “So, are we making Nine Turns Intestine this year?”

Jiang Feng counted the intestines on Jiang Zaidi’s side, “Grandpa didn’t tell me to buy intestines. With this little, it surely won’t be enough for Nine Turns Intestine; I guess we’re not making it.”

Hearing what Jiang Feng said, Jiang Zaidi felt like he had lost all motivation to continue washing the intestines.

“Little brother, you better hurry to town,” Jiang Zaidi continued cleaning the intestines with a deflated expression.

It was only about a half-hour walk from the village to the town, considering he’d have to help Mrs. Jiang carry things, Jiang Feng didn’t ride his bicycle but chose to walk instead.

After arriving in town, Jiang Feng called Mrs. Jiang a few times but no one picked up; he was already used to this behavior of hers. After thinking it through, Jiang Feng headed straight for the town’s only senior activity center.

Which was the mahjong parlor.

Sir had said that Mrs. Jiang had gone to town early in the morning. The town wasn’t big and could be walked across in half a day. By the time Jiang Feng got home with the sack containing pig’s trotters, it was already past mealtime. If Mrs. Jiang had indeed gone shopping, she would have definitely returned before lunch.

So there was only one truth: Mrs. Jiang’s main purpose for going to town today was to play mahjong and buy some things by the way.

Sure enough, as soon as Jiang Feng entered the card room, he saw Mrs. Jiang.

The usually bustling card room, now close to Chinese New Year and everyone being very busy, had only two tables open. Mrs. Jiang was sitting at the mahjong table, fully engaged in the game, with several bags of vegetables and some groceries on the chair behind her, proving that she did indeed come to buy things today.

Jiang Feng noticed that the green leaves were somewhat wilted from being squashed.

“One character tile? Perfect, I win!” Mrs. Jiang pushed her tiles forward.

“Aiya, Lanhua, how did you win again? Your skill has really improved after your trip to Beiping!” the lady who had set off Mrs. Jiang’s winning hand lamented.

“It’s not me who’s improved, I think it’s because you haven’t played much mahjong recently and have gotten rusty,” Mrs. Jiang said joyfully. “But, not to boast, those mahjong parlors in Beiping are definitely different from ours here, not just better facilities, but the old men and women there have such good spirits. They play from morning till night without getting tired at all!”

“Grandma,” Jiang Feng, seeing that Mrs. Jiang was about to start bragging about the Beiping mahjong parlors, hastily stepped forward.

“Oh, Feng is back, eh? Did you get the pork?” Mrs. Jiang asked.

“Got it, got a pig’s trotter. Old Madam Li also brought over a basin of pork this afternoon, said it was collected for us by several other families in the village. Grandpa said that we will have our usual pork dish tonight,” Jiang Feng said.

“In crucial times, neighbors are more reliable than distant relatives, how does the saying go, ‘A close neighbor is better than a distant relative’!” Mrs. Jiang stood up. “Alright, I’m heading off first; my grandson has come to fetch me.”

No one tried to keep Mrs. Jiang any longer since if she kept playing like this, their wallets probably wouldn’t survive the night.

“Grandma, I’ll help you carry these things,” Jiang Feng knew this was his time, as a filial grandson, to show his worth.

“Oh Lanhua, your grandson really is filial. Those kids of mine, when they see me carrying things, it’s like they see nothing, all they do is stare at their phones, not afraid of damaging their eyes,” one of the players exclaimed.

“Yeah, Lanhua’s grandson is the most filial,” another player echoed.

“Lanhua, how do you teach youngsters at your place? Teach us, so we can learn a thing or two,” the final player inquired.

“Yes, yes,” the other two players agreed in unison.

“There’s nothing much to teach, look at me playing cards with you all day, I don’t have time to teach the kids, they’re sensible on their own. Our Jiang Feng has been filial since he was young, far better in this regard than his cousins,” Mrs. Jiang said with a mouth so wide smile that it nearly split her face.

Jiang Feng and Mrs. Jiang left the mahjong parlor.

“Grandma, did grandpa ever make a whole lamb banquet?” Jiang Feng asked, attempting to probe for information to guess what Sir would make for the New Year’s Eve dinner, so he could cheat more effectively.

“Whole lamb banquet?” Mrs. Jiang looked puzzled.

Mrs. Jiang, when she was younger, believed firmly in the principle of ‘men managing the outside and women the inside’ and normally did not interfere with or inquire about Sir’s work, so she wasn’t very familiar with the dishes he had made when he worked at the state-owned restaurant.

“I don’t know if it was a whole lamb banquet? I remember, just after I married your grandpa, there was one time the city held some sort of celebration or event, and the leaders specifically requested your grandpa and Master Huang to cater it. I think they made all lamb dishes that time; it was sensational and even made the newspapers,” Mrs. Jiang squinted, trying to recall.

“I didn’t get to eat any of the dishes, lamb was such a luxury at the time, and we didn’t really raise sheep around here. I remember all the lamb was bought from up north, spent a lot of money on it. Your grandpa made a particularly special dish back then, called, called…” Mrs. Jiang struggled for a long time before eking out a few words, “called something mos or some such, sounded like a foreign name.”

“Moscow?” Jiang Feng could only think of that.

“No, it was four characters, uh, something mos what was it?” Mrs. Jiang fell into thought.