Chapter 446 - 217: Doesn’t That Make Ming a Clown?

Chapter 446: Chapter 217: Doesn’t That Make Ming a Clown?

After tasting the Snowflake Chicken Porridge, next came the Mapo Tofu and Yuxiang Shredded Pork.

"The Yuxiang Shredded Pork is so yummy! Yuyan, can you give me a spoonful?" Zhou Momo said, pushing her bowl forward and looking at Duan Yu Yan beside her.

"Of course I can. I’ll get you a big scoop." Duan Yu Yan smiled, picked up the serving spoon, and ladled a generous spoonful of Yuxiang Shredded Pork onto Zhou Momo’s rice.

"Thank you~" Zhou Momo said softly, then buried her head and went back to devouring her food.

The savory, sour, and spicy Yuxiang Shredded Pork was perfect for her. ’It’s so good with rice, I could eat three bowls with just this one dish!’

"She’s so well-behaved, eating so nicely on her own at her age," Song Wanqing said with a laugh. "My cousin’s son is five, and his mom still has to chase him around with a bowl, cooing ’sweetie, sweetie’ just to get him to eat."

"I know, right? She’s adorable and such a sweet talker, I just want to steal her," Duan Yu Yan agreed, her gaze on Zhou Momo filled with adoration.

"You’ll have an adorable baby of your own one day," Song Wanqing said, looking at her. "After all, you’re so beautiful."

"Why bother making one when you can just take one?"

"I’ve been looking into how to win a custody battle against a total stranger lately."

Duan Yu Yan scooped some Yuxiang Shredded Pork into her own bowl. Seeing the stunned faces around the table, she laughed and waved her hand. "I’m just kidding! Don’t look so tense. You’re making me sound like I’m actually going to kidnap the poor girl."

Everyone laughed at that.

"This Mapo Tofu looks amazing. It looks just like the Chen Mapo Tofu from Rongcheng—the real deal," Song Wanqing said, picking up a spoon and scooping a piece into her bowl. "When I was in college in Rongcheng, I had a roommate who absolutely loved it. She’d drag me out to eat Mapo Tofu every Sunday. She moved to Chang’an after graduation, and I haven’t seen her in ages. No one drags me out for Mapo Tofu anymore. The last time I ate it was during the New Year last year."

The spicy and numbing aroma immediately wafted up to her. Sichuan peppercorn powder was sprinkled evenly over the top, promising a signature mala flavor.

It was sprinkled with green garlic shoots, and the white tofu, tinged with red, glistened under a glossy, oily sauce.

This was the ultimate rice dish. She was someone who normally ate only one bowl of rice, but at Chen Mapo Tofu, she could easily down three and leave clutching her full stomach.

She lifted the tofu to her lips.

Hot!

As expected.

Numbing, spicy, savory, fragrant, crisp, tender, and firm! All seven sensations arrived in succession, converging in that single bite.

The minced beef was simmered until meltingly tender. Its meaty aroma infused the rich sauce, which was then absorbed by the tofu, lending the dish a savory depth.

The moment the tofu slid down her throat, she quickly shoveled in a mouthful of rice.

The soft, warm rice soaked up the sauce, becoming more flavorful with every chew. In just a few moments, she had already carved out a small crater in her bowl.

She could almost see the round-faced girl sitting across from her again—the one who could devour five bowls of rice in one go, then spend the next five days back at school munching on apples and cucumbers to make up for it, always optimistic and quick to laugh.

Her friend was getting married next May. ’I have to be at her wedding,’ she thought.

Song Wanqing exclaimed, "This is so authentic! This Mapo Tofu is even better than what they make at Chen Mapo Tofu! Perfectly numbing, spicy, savory, and fragrant. And the minced beef is so tender and flavorful."

"Is it really that good?" Song Changhe asked, unconvinced. He scooped some into his bowl and took a bite. His eyes immediately lit up. "Miss, could you please get me a bowl of rice as well?"

"Of course," Li Lihua replied with a smile, taking his bowl to fill it with rice.

"Not having a drink first, Song?" Wang Yu asked with a smile.

"Nope," Song Changhe said, shaking his head with a laugh. "This Mapo Tofu is for eating with rice, not for drinking with alcohol. It’s only right to have it with a bowl of rice. There’s a saying: ’Tofu’s best when it’s hot, and a wife’s best when she’s plump.’ This Mapo Tofu won’t taste the same once it’s cold. I’m finishing a bowl of rice first, then we’ll see."

"Makes sense." Wang Yu nodded and got himself a bowl of rice too.

Song Wanqing picked up some Yuxiang Shredded Pork with her chopsticks. Her eyes lit up after the first bite. "The pork is so silky and tender, the winter bamboo shoots are fresh, sweet, and crisp, and the wood ear mushrooms are perfectly soft. The savory, sour, and spicy notes are so well-balanced. This Yuxiang Shredded Pork is incredible too!"

Every single dish tonight had been a wonderful surprise.

The richly aromatic braised platter, the delicate Snowflake Chicken Porridge, the mellow braised beef with dried bamboo shoots, the fall-off-the-bone red-braised pork ribs, the perfectly balanced Mapo Tofu, and the tangy Yuxiang Shredded Pork—each had its own distinct, delicious flavor!

’Zhou Yan is an absolute genius!’

’Any one of these dishes could be the star attraction at a Sichuan restaurant.’

’They were all executed perfectly.’

Take the Mapo Tofu, for instance. She’d had it once at Le Ming Restaurant. They’d used minced pork instead of beef, and the flavor was... indescribable. They’d dumped in the Sichuan peppercorn like it was free; all she could feel afterward was a relentless numbness in her mouth.

She had gone with a colleague that time. Afterward, her colleague was sticking her tongue out, desperately searching for water, and said to her, "No wonder they call it Mapo Tofu. The ’ma’ is no joke!"

It made her laugh, but she also felt a little exasperated.

’The "Ma" in Mapo originally referred to the pockmarks on the face of the "po," the old woman who created it. How did it come to be associated with the "ma" for "numbing"?’

The grand finale, the Huo Xiang Carp, was brought out by Zhou Yan himself.

Li Lihua shifted some other dishes aside, making room for it right in the center.

"Is everything to your liking?" Zhou Yan asked with a smile.

"It’s wonderful!" Duan Yu Yan nodded. "Especially the Snowflake Chicken Porridge. The texture was incredible, and the flavor was so fresh and delicate. Delicious. You’ve worked hard, come sit and eat with us."

"Yes, every dish has been amazing. Your skills are incredible. This Mapo Tofu is even better than Chen Mapo Tofu," Song Wanqing chimed in with praise, scooting over slightly. "You can sit here," she said with a smile. "It’s a perfect spot."

It was a traditional square table for eight. Mrs. Qiu sat by herself on one side. Song Changhe and Wang Yu, the two drinkers, occupied another. Zhou Momo and Duan Yu Yan were on a third side. That really only left the spot next to Song Wanqing.