pjbooks Chapter 105 Braised Pork in Casserole
Chapter 105 Braised Pork in Casserole
Chapter 105 Braised Pork in Casserole
Wang Sheng deliberately steered the conversation: talking about the old alleys, the cooking time for braised pork, and the benefits of using a clay pot.
He was a skilled cook and had studied countless techniques provided by the system. He was also very adept at responding to conversations, occasionally throwing out a professional but unpretentious question.
"Master Ma, what's the difference between stewing meat in a clay pot and using an iron pot or pressure cooker?"
"Ah! You've hit the nail on the head!" Old Ma perked up. "A clay pot is breathable! When simmering over low heat, it 'breathes,' the heat creating tiny circulations on the inner wall, allowing the meat juices to slowly seep in, the flavor gradually penetrating. An iron pot is too stuffy, and a pressure cooker is just a violent way to cook it—can they be compared?"
"And what about the cooking time? I heard you can simmer it for more than two hours?"
"Minimum two hours!"
The old man held up two fingers. "The meat should be stewed until it's easily pierced with chopsticks, and the fat jiggles like jelly—that's what you call perfect! These days, those restaurants cook it in half an hour; is that braised pork? That's just soy sauce boiled pork!"
Wang Sheng nodded repeatedly, revealing an expression that said, "I've learned something."
The more Old Man Ma chatted, the more he felt a connection with the young man. He thought the young man was knowledgeable and honest. Although he couldn't remember which old friend's son he was, the sense of closeness between them was genuine.
As they chatted animatedly, the old man glanced at the packed goods by the door and sighed, "Alas, what a pity, this shop—it can't stay open. My son is doing big business in Silicon Valley and insisted on taking us, the two of us, there to enjoy our retirement. We couldn't refuse him."
Wang Sheng immediately looked regretful: "That's such a pity! Master Ma, with your skill and the perfect wok hei (wok aroma), closing down is a loss for all of us old neighbors!"
The tone was sincere and just right.
"Who says otherwise!" Old Ma, his secret exposed, started talking, "My son doesn't appreciate my skills!"
They say America is full of steaks, so who eats braised pork? But I just can't bear to part with this pot, this bowl of meat!
He pointed inside the house, "Everything is almost packed up. A junk collector will take it away tomorrow."
"Collecting junk?" Wang Sheng feigned surprise and distress at the opportune moment. "That's such a waste! Especially that clay pot you used for stewing meat, I think it's a treasure!"
"Of course it's a treasure!"
Old Ma perked up, stood up, and walked inside. "Come, come, let me show you my old buddy!"
He carefully lifted something wrapped in old newspaper from a pile of clutter.
Lifting the old newspaper revealed the clay pot.
It is sturdy and heavy, made of dark brown purple clay. The outer wall shows signs of wear and tear over time, especially the inner wall, which is covered with a thick, glossy black patina.
When you get close, you can smell a complex and deep aroma.
That's the flavor that comes from countless stews, the accumulated oil, meat aroma, and sauce.
The scent of time.
"See that?"
The old man, displaying a rare treasure, gently stroked the pot with his fingers. "This was my wife who bought it when we first got married."
How much did she earn back then? She saved up every penny to buy it for me, saying that if she was going to open a restaurant, she needed a good pot to stew good meat. In the blink of an eye—it's been almost ten years since my husband passed away.
The old man's voice was choked with emotion, and his eyes were full of nostalgia as he looked at the clay pot.
"This pot has been with me for most of my life; I've lost count of how many pots of meat I've stewed in it. And all the ingredients in it..."
He pointed to the patina on the pot's surface, "This is the essence! A new pot can't bring out my flavor! My son doesn't understand, he says it's dirty and insists I throw it away—sigh!"
He sighed heavily, filled with endless regret.
Wang Sheng was deeply moved and exclaimed sincerely, "Master Ma, this is a true antique, it has a soul. It's not dirty, it's the taste of time, the inheritance of craftsmanship!"
These words struck a chord with Old Man Ma. His eyes lit up, as if he had found a true kindred spirit, and he looked sharply at Wang Sheng: "Young man! You understand! You understand this! Good! Good!"
He shoved the clay pot into Wang Sheng's arms: "This pot is for you! Keep it! Don't mind it! Take it back and use it well, stew meat! Don't let it go with me to eat foreign garbage, and don't let the junk collectors ruin it!"
"This—Master Ma, this is too precious!" Wang Sheng was both surprised and delighted, and quickly declined.
"Take it!" Old Ma said firmly, pressing down on Wang Sheng's hand. "It'll be happy if it's given to someone who understands it! Its wife will be happy watching from heaven! And my old customers—they'll have something to remember it by!"
She turned her back and wiped the corner of her eye.
Wang Sheng no longer refused and solemnly accepted the casserole: "Master Ma, rest assured! I will definitely use it well and pass on this old flavor!"
"Good boy—" Old Ma patted him on the shoulder with satisfaction.
Wang Sheng then asked, "Master Ma, look how much trouble I've gone to to come all this way, and I've received such a generous gift from you—what's the secret to your braised pork? Especially the cooking time and the ingredients? I'll try to recreate your flavor with this pot when I get back, just to remember you by."
When it comes to his signature skills, Old Ma's spirits return.
He pulled Wang Sheng to sit down on a small stool at the shop entrance and began to speak without reservation.
It starts with selecting the meat: "It has to be this kind of pork belly with skin, clearly layered, three parts fat and two parts lean" is best! First, singe the skin to remove the hair and fishy smell, singe the skin until it's charred and bubbly, then scrape and wash it clean —
"Blanching? Start with cold water! Skim off the foam thoroughly!"
"Caramelize the sugar? Use rock sugar! Simmer it over low heat until it turns a deep reddish-brown, then add the meat and sauté! Sauté some of the oil to make it less greasy!"
"Add water? Add hot water! Enough to cover the meat!"
"Spices? Forget all that fancy stuff! Just star anise, cinnamon, bay leaves, a few slices of ginger, a scallion! Maybe a couple of cloves of garlic!"
"The most important things are the heat and the time! Bring it to a boil over high heat, then turn to low heat and cover! My clay pot is the best! It's breathable, keeps the heat in place, and heats evenly! Simmer it over low heat for at least two hours! The meat should be tender enough to be easily pierced with chopsticks—that's when it's done!"
"Reduce the sauce at the end? Don't reduce it too much! Leave a little glossy sauce to mix with rice, that's absolutely delicious!"
[P.S. Question: What did you feel when you saw it tonight?]
The old man explained things in great detail, and Wang Sheng listened attentively, even recording it on his phone.
He discovered that Master Ma's methods and system were consistent with his braised pork technique in basic principles, but there were many unique aspects in the details: such as his dedication to the searing process, his concept of "less is more" spices, and especially his emphasis on the clay pot and the length of time for slow simmering over low heat, which was more extreme than the system.
That old-fashioned craftsman spirit of "slow and steady wins the race" permeates every step.
[Ding! Detected that the host has acquired the core techniques of "Old Ma's Braised Pork" (folk artisan version)! Experience integration in progress! Comparison and optimization complete!]
[Reward: ¥20,000 cash has been credited to the host's linked account!]
The system notification sounded promptly.
Wang Sheng was overjoyed.
Twenty thousand yuan has been deposited!
"Master Ma, thank you so much! This experience is more valuable than a precious pot!"
Wang Sheng sincerely thanked him and then asked, "So, what are the proper care instructions for maintaining this clay pot?"
"What's there to be particular about!" Old Ma waved his hand, pointing to the patina in the pot. "See that? This is the best way to maintain it! Don't scrub it with dish soap! After each use, just rinse it with hot water, wipe it dry with kitchen paper, and let it air dry upside down! The longer it's been used, the thicker this oil film becomes, and the more fragrant the stewed meat will be! It's a method passed down from our ancestors, and it can't be wrong!"
Wang Sheng nodded repeatedly, making sure he remembered it.
He chatted with Old Man Ma for a while longer, until the old man's son called to urge him to leave. Only then did he take his leave, clutching the heavy, warm purple clay pot that seemed to carry the weight of time.
As I walked out of the alley, I looked back.
Old Ma was still standing at the shop entrance, under the osmanthus tree, waving at him.
The old man smiled, but his eyes held a hint of confusion, as if he were trying to recall:
This knowledgeable young man, whose child is he? The greedy kid I was just talking about—
It seems like it was made up on the spot?
In short, neither of them was honest.
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