After Transmigration: Building a Kingdom in Turbulent Times-Chapter 601 - 595: Just Knows How to Cook

Fu Tinghan brought the picked beans over and handed them to the kitchen staff, asking them to take them down for washing. He turned to Zhao Hanzhang and said, "I was just about to tell you, there’s a group of bandits on Hai’er Ridge that frequently plunder the merchants traveling below. Do you think we could eliminate them?"

Zhao Hanzhang knew he was talking about the issue with Gao Hui’s caravan.

Fu Tinghan’s gaze fell on Zhao Erlang and said, "Hai’er Ridge is between Xin’an and Luoyang, it would be most suitable for Erlang to lead the charge against the bandits."

Zhao Hanzhang frowned slightly, "But the bandit’s lair is on Hai’er Ridge, a place that’s easy to defend and hard to attack. It won’t be easy to fight."

"If you are not assured, you can have General Beigong assist Erlang."

Zhao Hanzhang raised an eyebrow at Fu Tinghan.

Fu Tinghan nodded slightly at her.

Zhao Hanzhang readily agreed, "Alright, when General Beigong arrives, I’ll bring it up with him."

Zhao Hanzhang and Zhao Erlang worked in tandem, chopping or slicing the lamb, completing the tasks assigned by the chef.

Then she washed her hands, ready to cook a dish.

Zhao Kuan curiously leaned in to watch.

He saw her throw the cleaned bones into a large basin, then pour in boiling hot water, stir it with chopsticks, and put it into a large cauldron. Then she took the lamb spine she had just cut, passed it through hot water as well, and piled it on top of the lamb bones.

Adding water, she placed the cauldron on the stove, and immediately a servant came forward to light the fire.

The cook, according to Zhao Hanzhang’s instructions, picked out the ingredients and handed them to her, and Zhao Hanzhang scattered them into the pot.

After covering the lid, she told the servant tending the fire, "Use high heat until the water boils, then switch to low heat, simmer for about half an hour, just about enough time before the meal."

The servant respectfully complied.

Zhao Hanzhang also instructed the cook to remember to add salt.

The cook assured her it was no problem, she had made this dish three times already and was confident.

Zhao Kuan couldn’t help but turn to Fu Tinghan, "Does this count as knowing how to cook?"

Fu Tinghan: "...I guess it does."

Zhao Hanzhang, having sharp ears, turned back to ask the two, "What’s up?"

Zhao Kuan laughed so hard that his eyes disappeared, shaking his head, "Nothing, these bones are chopped well. Later, I must carefully taste this soup, you made it with your own hands, my dear sister three."

Fu Tinghan couldn’t help touching his nose, hesitating for a while before he quietly asked her, "You’re only making this soup?"

Zhao Hanzhang said, "This is already my specialty."

Fu Tinghan hesitated for a moment before saying, "I recall you could cook in middle school."

Hearing this, Zhao Hanzhang looked him up and down with a deep gaze, then slowly said, "You heard that from my grandfather, right?"

She held back her laughter, "Could it be that he meant I just knew how to cook, not how well I cooked?"

Fu Tinghan: ...

Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t help but smile, "I can use a rice cooker to steam rice. The rice I cook is just right, not too hard, not too soft, very much to my grandfather’s taste. So every time I got home from school, I’d steam the rice first, then do my homework."

Fu Tinghan: ...

Zhao Hanzhang saw his shocked expression and couldn’t help laughing out loud.

Zhao Kuan, who was leaning in with Zhao Erlang, turned back to look at the two and saw that under the sunlight, Zhao Hanzhang was laughing freely, while Fu Tinghan looked at her with a gentle (helpless) smile.

Fu Tinghan put away his helplessness, shaking his head with a grin, and rolled up his sleeves, "Then let me make a dish."

"Mr. Ji boasted when he heard you were cooking. If he finds out there’s only the soup you made tonight, his face might not look too good."

Zhao Hanzhang defended the soup, "Soup is hard to make too. It’s not easy to make it delicious."

Although all the ingredients for the soup were prepared by the cook, she was only responsible for tossing them in.

Thinking of this, she felt a little guilty. Zhao Hanzhang coughed lightly and asked, "What are you going to make?"

"Stew some green beans with lamb?" he said, "I’ve made stewed beef with potatoes before, it should be the same with lamb and green beans, right?"

Zhao Hanzhang nodded, "It should be about the same, go ahead, I’ll help."

Once finished, she could also take some credit for the dish.

Fu Tinghan agreed with a smile.

Zhao Kuan watched as Fu Tinghan really went to the kitchen to cook.

It was also his first time cooking in this era. The fire was fine; Zhao Hanzhang could barely control it. Add firewood to increase the heat, reduce to lower it; barely acceptable.

But Fu Tinghan also used all the other ingredients at once.

The sauces here are several kinds, most of which, except for meat sauce, are made of beans and are expensive.

Good Doubanjiang is labor-intensive, so most ordinary folks can’t afford it. The cook at Zhao Mansion liked adding Doubanjiang to dishes.

Fu Tinghan, used to the taste, liked the addition of Doubanjiang too, but adding it himself this time made him a bit dramatic.

Since it was for Zhao Hanzhang’s sake, he was very careful. He tasted one piece himself, gauged the flavor, and then cautiously added some to the simmering lamb and green beans.

Then came the salt.

He thought salt should taste similar, but when he opened the salt container and saw the slightly yellowed salt, he wasn’t so sure.

He pinched a few grains of salt and tasted them, immediately frowning.

Seeing this, Zhao Hanzhang stood up, leaned over to take a look, and also pinched a bit of salt to taste. She instantly widened her eyes with a pained expression, "Why is this salt so bitter?"

"It’s astringent," Fu Tinghan said, "The impurities haven’t been fully removed."

This made him uncertain about how much salt to add.

Originally, for such a big pot of lamb and green beans, about twenty grams of salt would be appropriate, but...

Zhao Hanzhang kept it simple, calling the cook over to add the salt.

The cook, straightforward as usual, took one look at the pot of lamb and beans and the Doubanjiang that had been added, then proceeded to sprinkle two spoonfuls of salt and took over the spatula, stirring vigorously.

Ultimately, the dish was a collective effort of the three, and since Fu Tinghan and Zhao Hanzhang spent the most time, it could barely count as their creation.

Seeing this, Zhao Kuan was relieved, nothing much changes, his sister remained the same in his memory.

Guests began arriving before long.

Zhao Hanzhang was hosting, so no one dared to be late. The first to arrive was Chen Wu, who had set out from Guy City at dawn, reaching Luoyang around noon. He first took a nap at the newly established post station before coming over.

He brought Feng Long with him, initially wanting to bring Li along too, but Guy City couldn’t be left unattended, so he had to leave him there.

He deliberately left space in his stomach, not eating at noon, so when he arrived at Zhao Mansion, his eyes were drawn to the pastries on the plate.

Though Chen Wu was the leader of the Qihu Army, he was not from a poor background. His family had previously been small landowners, barely reaching the gentry class but never lacking food or clothing.

The pastries on the plate he hadn’t seen before, so after the servant served tea, he picked one up to taste. Finding it good, he asked, "What is this golden pastry called?"