The Game of Life

The tea had just been steeped, and the boiling hot water was slowly releasing steam upwards. Sir, seemingly oblivious, lifted the cup to his lips.

The moment the tea touched his lips, Sir silently set the cup back down.

“Grandpa, Grandma, try this,” Jiang Feng eagerly offered his spoon to Sir and Mrs. Jiang, not forgetting to lift the top off the stuffed crab oranges, perfectly playing the part of the attentive server.

Sir took the spoon and scooped up a spoonful of the stuffed crab orange.

He took a bite.

Sir squinted his eyes slightly and his lips moved almost imperceptibly as if he were savoring the stuffed crab orange in his mouth.

While Sir was tasting the stuffed crab orange, Mrs. Jiang had already finished her first spoonful and started on her second. She had no strong feelings or reaction to this new dish she’d never heard of or tried before.

Ever since Mrs. Jiang had married Sir, she had eaten three meals a day made by him. Back in the days when Sir was a chef at a state-run restaurant, he also cooked many large dishes for entertaining leaders and had used quite a few exotic ingredients, which Mrs. Jiang had the chance to sample.

In her lifetime, Mrs. Jiang might have left the province only a handful of times, but when it came to food, she could certainly be considered well-versed and experienced.

If she had to comment on the stuffed crab oranges before her, Mrs. Jiang could only say that using fruit to make a dish was quite interesting, but she found the taste of the steamed orange a bit strange and wasn’t used to it.

But this dish was made with her grandson’s care; Feng had made it especially for her and brought it over late at night, which showed how much Feng valued her as his grandmother. Even if it was unfamiliar, she would eat it with a smile.

Right after Mrs. Jiang’s second bite of the stuffed crab orange, Sir spoke up.

“How long did you leave this crab meat out? Can’t you smell how fishy it is?”

“And the Xiangxue Wine, you just shook it in there, didn’t you? If you can’t handle it properly, don’t show off. Have you ever been able to control the amount you shake in?”

“Also, this…” Sir was about to nitpick further when Mrs. Jiang interrupted him with a dissatisfied expression.

“Enough, enough, a few comments will do. You’re just getting started. The stuffed crab orange was specially made for me by Feng, not for you; you’re just incidental. If you don’t want to eat it, give it to me; don’t eat it! It’s not a cooking exam; why are you being so serious? Feng simply made two dishes in his spare time and brought them to honor us old folks. You’re criticizing him like a master criticizing an apprentice, intentionally hurting my grandson’s feelings.” Mrs. Jiang’s UZI submachine gun already rattled off at Sir before his M416 was even loaded.

“You’re being unreasonable, I’m just…”

“What do you mean ‘just’? If it were normal teaching, it would be during the day in the kitchen with you supervising Feng cooking. After Feng finishes, you’d taste it and critique. That’s Feng asking for it. Can tonight be the same? Tonight, Feng made it specially for me to eat, and you as well. Why are you butting in when I haven’t even said a word, and you’re the one talking first. You say I’m being unreasonable, where am I being unreasonable? You’re the one being unreasonable!” Mrs. Jiang continued her UZI barrage, even accidentally giving a friendly fire shot at Jiang Feng.

Sir: …

“It’s difficult to raise women and petty men,” Sir muttered.

Mrs. Jiang, though advanced in age but with ears still sharp, heard Sir’s mutter clearly and shot back, “A gentleman stays away from the kitchen.”

Jiang Feng: …

Impressive! This is indeed a battle of cultured individuals; they’re hurling insults at each other using lines from the Analects of Confucius found in middle school textbooks.

In Jiang Feng’s memory, whenever Sir and Mrs. Jiang argued, Sir never won. It always ended in Mrs. Jiang’s victory. It could be because Sir didn’t know how to argue, or perhaps he didn’t want to argue with Mrs. Jiang, but Jiang Feng thought that most of the time, the core of Mrs. Jiang’s argument was actually aligned with what Sir was thinking.

Over the years, the reason for their arguments was invariably related to their children and grandchildren. Mrs. Jiang generally stayed out of how Sir disciplined their son and grandson, but she would argue with him if she felt he was being excessive.

For example, years ago when Sir was angry with Jianguo and wouldn’t let him enter the house during Mid-Autumn Festival, Mrs. Jiang would drive Sir out of the house as well, and the family would go out to eat mooncakes together, forbidding anyone from entering the house.

Most of the time, the fights were over trivial matters: Mrs. Jiang felt it was wrong for Sir to make their grandson practice cooking even on the New Year’s; she would occasionally overhear Sir scolding their son too harshly; Mrs. Jiang saw Sir punishing their son by making him clean the pigsty and thought if one person couldn’t finish cleaning, two should be punished to do it together, and other small things like that.

Like every other time, this fight too passed, and the two continued to peacefully eat the stuffed crab orange. Sir closed his mouth and stopped finding fault with Jiang Feng’s dish.

However, this time was different from the rest. Jiang Feng really hoped Sir would point out a critical mistake in his stuffed crab oranges, preferably one that could elevate the dish to an ‘A’ grade right away after being corrected.

“Grandpa, what do you think is the biggest problem with my stuffed crab orange?” Jiang Feng asked proactively.

Sir looked up at Jiang Feng and was surprised that his grandson wasn’t as enthusiastic about learning other dishes, yet was quite active when it came to making these unusual ones, even actively seeking criticism.

But considering Mrs. Jiang was watching, Sir knew he should phrase his words carefully and speak more tactfully.

“Didn’t I mention earlier that the crab meat was left out too long and was too fishy? Your bit of Xiangxue Wine won’t mask that,” said Sir. “Next time, be quicker with your movements. Too much Xiangxue Wine changes the flavor, and it’s also an issue with the crab meat itself.”

“What about the rest? Are there any other prominent issues?” pursued Jiang Feng, who hadn’t managed to produce an ‘A’ grade finished product even when he was quick.

“Other aspects?” Jiang Feng’s question stumped Sir, as he had never eaten Crab Stuffed Oranges before.

Though Crab Stuffed Oranges is a famous dish that dates back to the Song Dynasty, it was lost for a long period and the current method is a restoration by later chefs based on ancient recipes. How it was originally made is a mystery to everyone, even Sir was not very clear on the current method.

Asking him to comment on the quality of a dish when he wasn’t sure of the method and had never tasted it was something Sir was reluctant to do.

“Do you think there was an issue with fire control?” Jiang Feng began to imply strongly.

“Fire control?”

“I don’t know why, but after trying many different steaming times, I still feel like something is off. The best time seems to be just over five minutes, but it doesn’t feel quite right,” Jiang Feng said.

Hearing Jiang Feng say this, Sir fell silent. He was a chef who greatly trusted his instincts, and Sir had long insisted that a chef’s first impression is more important than anything else.

“Come to the store early tomorrow morning and cook this dish in front of me,” Sir said. “I need to ponder what the issue might be.”

Since his grandson was willing to learn, as his grandfather, he naturally had to find a way to teach.

“Okay then, thank you, Grandpa.”

After Jiang Feng left, Sir couldn’t help but boast to Mrs. Jiang with some pride, “You old woman, always worried I talk too much and might hurt Feng’s feelings. Do you think Feng is that kind of person? Let me tell you, you just don’t understand. What we chefs fear the least is criticism— the more criticism, the happier we are. It’s when no one can find fault that we should worry.”

Mrs. Jiang was wiping the table and nodded perfunctorily, “Right, right, right, I was judging the gentleman’s stomach with a petty mind. I, a mere housewife, don’t understand these quirks of you chefs.”

“It’s also because our grandson is filial. Who would be happy being criticized? Only you would think that,” Mrs. Jiang said as she finished wiping the table and, still not quite satisfied, moved on to wipe the coffee table in front of the couch.

Sir knew that Mrs. Jiang was just being stubborn and didn’t argue further.

“Oh, by the way,” Mrs. Jiang suddenly straightened up while wiping the coffee table halfway through and turned to ask, “Tomorrow morning I’ll make pancakes for you, do you want ones with young green onions or with large onions?”

“Large onions, add more sesame oil, and sprinkle some sesame seeds,” Sir replied without hesitation.

…

After returning home, Jiang Feng hurried to finish making the rest of the Crab Stuffed Oranges and delivered them door to door. Unfortunately, it was too late and Jiang Weiming had already gone to bed. Jiang Feng could only make some more for Jiang Weiming to eat the next morning.

Although Ji Xia was somewhat sick of dismembering crabs, she had no qualms when it came to eating them. She cheerfully finished her two Crab Stuffed Oranges and went upstairs to bed.

After a busy evening, Jiang Feng was still concerned as to why he felt there was something off about the fire control. Could it be that he needed to time the steaming down to the very second, or even a fraction of a second, and try each duration one by one, seeking the true perfect steaming time for Crab Stuffed Oranges using a scientifically rigorous method?

But that’s not how Chinese cooking works, is it?

People usually rely on their senses. Timing with a stopwatch like Jiang Feng did felt like materialism colliding with idealism.

Don’t ask Jiang Feng what idealism is—he only scored a 66 in Marxist Theory by scribbling nonsense, and that pass was thanks to the teacher’s mercy.

Before going to bed, Jiang Feng checked Cao Guixiang’s process of making Crab Stuffed Oranges again, but couldn’t see any significant issues, let alone the fact that Cao Guixiang’s steaming time was originally flawed. If only he could see Master Peng’s process.

Wait a second, Master Peng’s process.

Jiang Feng quickly scrolled down to the backtracking function on the familiar panel; the cooldown time was still zero. In Cao Guixiang’s memories, there was a full process of Master Peng making Crab Stuffed Oranges.

But he could only check once a week; if he still failed to identify the issue this time, Jiang Feng would have to wait until the next week.

Quietly closing the attribute panel, Jiang Feng decided to wait until he cooked Crab Stuffed Oranges in front of Sir the next morning before considering whether to use the backtracking function.

If Sir couldn’t identify the problem, he would use the backtracking function to review Master Peng’s method one more time. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Maybe by observing a master’s process, he would have a sudden moment of enlightenment.

Jiang Feng comforted himself, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

He had a good night’s dream.

PS:

Life is tough, sighing over hard labor. Thanks to the weekend, there’s no work tomorrow~

Asking for monthly passes~