Chapter 360 - 191: Linjiang Shanshi?

Chapter 360: Chapter 191: Linjiang Shanshi?

Zhou Yan smiled reassuringly. "Don’t lose heart, Mr. Qian. Perhaps you could tell me more about the dishes your mother made for you. Sichuan Cuisine has many dishes with distinct regional characteristics—for example, Jiazhou Sweet-Skinned Duck, Jianyang Mutton Soup, Bishan Braised Rooster, and Rongchang Stewed Goose... If we can identify just one, we might be able to pinpoint the location."

Qian Siyuan’s eyes lit up again. After a moment of deep thought, he said, "My mother used to take two slices of fatty pork with sugar sandwiched in between, then steam them over a bowl of sticky rice. The rice was sweet, too. She only made it for holidays, and it was absolutely delicious."

"That’s Sweet Burnt White," Zhou Yan said, shaking his head. "It’s another classic of Sichuan Cuisine. It’s a staple at just about every outdoor banquet, so it’s not distinctive enough."

"In the winter, my mother would also marinate meat with salt and various seasonings and then air-dry it. After that, she’d smoke it over a low flame to give it that smoky flavor. For much of the rest of the year, we’d have all sorts of dishes made with that cured meat."

"That’s cured meat. Every winter, people all over Sichuan make cured meat and sausages."

"My mother..."

Qian Siyuan continued to recall and describe the flavors of his mother’s cooking, searching for a taste of the past in the river of time.

Zhou Yan was always able to accurately name the dishes Qian Siyuan described, even explaining their likely origins and some of their history.

Zhou Yan didn’t cook many dishes himself—the menu on the wall listed his entire repertoire.

But the Sichuan dishes he’d eaten could have filled that entire wall. He had traveled to nearly every corner of Sichuan and understood the history behind many of the dishes.

Now *that* was what you call a professional!

Qian Siyuan’s mother was skilled in many kinds of Sichuan Cuisine, but they were all very classic dishes. She was particularly good at pan-frying and stir-frying, and she always kept three pickling jars at home, ensuring they had pickled vegetables all year round.

Zhou Yan smiled. "Mr. Qian, your mother’s family likely employed a Chef. Back in those days, a woman from an ordinary family wouldn’t have been able to learn so many classic Sichuan dishes. And from your descriptions, they sound quite authentic."

Qian Siyuan nodded. "My mother mentioned that my maternal grandfather was, in fact, a Chef. The culinary skills were passed down through the family, but only to the sons, not the daughters. She loved spending time in the kitchen as a child, helping with the prep work, and she secretly picked up a few things. But in those days, women weren’t allowed to run the kitchen, so she could only cook at home."

"No wonder." Zhou Yan nodded. ’That explains it.’ But this also meant it would be even harder to determine her hometown based on the dishes she knew how to cook.

"Those are all the dishes my mother made that I can remember clearly. But as you said, they’re all common, classic Sichuan dishes, which means we can’t use them to figure out her hometown, right?" Qian Siyuan looked a little disappointed. And yet, he was impressed that Zhou Yan could accurately name every single dish he’d described, and even knew the history behind many of them.

Listening from the side, Lin Zhiqiang was getting anxious as well. He wanted to help Qian Siyuan, and not just for the sake of the business deal. A man in his middle years has a deeper understanding of the place a mother holds in his heart.

He had crossed oceans and climbed mountains to come to Jiazhou; perhaps finding his mother’s hometown was even more important to him than the Jiading Brocade.

"It’s not that we haven’t made any progress," Zhou Yan said. "Based on the dishes you’ve described, your mother was especially skilled at pan-frying and stir-frying. For seasoning, she favored red chili oil, balanced sweet and sour flavors, and had a preference for sweeter tastes. This aligns with the culinary characteristics of the Great River Gang."

"The Great River Gang?" Qian Siyuan looked at him.

"The so-called Great River Gang refers to the area along the upper reaches of the Yangtze River, including places like Jiangjin, Hejiang, Luxian County, Yibin, and Jiazhou," Zhou Yan explained. "This region was less affected by the wars during the Ming and Qing dynasties, so it’s one of the areas where the native Sichuan population is better preserved. As a result, they’ve retained many authentic elements in their cuisine, culture, and language. For example, a fondness for sticky rice is one of their key characteristics."

Within the Sichuanese dialect group, the Jiazhou dialect is unique; it’s considered a relatively pure form of the Sichuan dialect.

But as a result, it’s now the one that sounds the least like modern Sichuanese.

Forget outsiders—when Jiazhou people speak, even other Sichuan natives are left scratching their heads.

Zhou Yan had a roommate from Jiazhou in college. His other two roommates, both locals from Rongcheng, joked that they’d basically had to learn a foreign language over their four years at university.

As a non-local himself, Zhou Yan had found this joke hilarious.

Qian Siyuan nodded repeatedly as he listened. So it wasn’t a total dead end after all. This basically confirmed his own suspicions—that his mother’s hometown was likely somewhere in the Jiazhou area.

Zhou Yan looked at him and continued, "Mr. Qian, I believe your mother’s cooking was likely restricted by the ingredients and seasonings available in the United States, which limited what she could truly make. Did she ever mention other dishes she was good at? Or perhaps a particularly memorable delicacy from her hometown?"

"She actually did say that!" Qian Siyuan’s eyes brightened. "I vividly remember her saying, ’This place of foreign devils has nothing! It’s cramping your old lady’s style!’" He chuckled after saying it, his eyes filled with deep nostalgia.

He thought hard for another moment, then looked up at Zhou Yan. "I remember now! One time, she was making noodles for everyone. Halfway through the meal, she suddenly mentioned that in her hometown, they ate a type of fish where they’d remove the bones, shred the meat into long strips, and eat it just like noodles. No bones, she said, which made it incredibly satisfying to eat!

I can’t remember what the fish was called, but I remember her saying it looked like a snake—long and slippery. For a time, that image became the stuff of my childhood nightmares.

I thought it was terrifying—shredding a snake into pieces and boiling it. It just sounded so morbid."

"Linjiang Shanshi?!" Zhou Yan’s eyes flashed, and he shot straight to his feet.

’Case closed!’

’A fish that looks like a snake—what else could that be but a swamp eel?’

’The most famous eel dish in Jiazhou has to be Linjiang Shanshi.’

The eel is cooked, deboned, and shredded. It’s then cooked a second time, simmered in a style similar to "Shuizhu Yu," or water-boiled fish. The final dish is a large bowl brimming with shredded eel. When you pick it up, it looks just like noodles. You can eat it by the mouthful—no bones, just incredibly fresh, tender, smooth, and delicious.