"Nearly doubled?" Wang Dong was surprised.

"This is still because of the Sanniang in the grain store, the result of suppressing the price of grain, I heard that in other state capitals, the price has risen even more." The little lady pouted.

Jiugong sighed and said, "These troubles should be left to the people above the temple to solve, why should we be mortals." As he spoke, Jiu Gong had already stood up, hummed a little song, and walked again in the direction of the wine cellar.

"Jiugong, you just woke up, don't drink it."

Jiu Gong didn't care about this, turned his back to Wang Dong, waved his hand, and disappeared behind the door. It's really a weirdo, he was sitting here just now, with a melancholy face, worried about the country and the people, but at the moment he seems to have nothing to do with himself.

After Jiugong left, only Wang Dong and the Zhang family were left in the hall, and the atmosphere was a little tense.

In order to break this atmosphere, Wang Dong asked: "By the way, does the increase in grain prices have an impact on your bean curd business?" ”

"Douhua is made from soybeans, and although the price of soybeans has risen a lot, it is not as good as chestnut rice." The lady of the Zhang family sighed, "However, just eating bean curd, you can't be full." ”

Bean curd, although delicious. But it can only be used as a supplementary food, and it is obviously unrealistic to use it to replace the role of chestnut rice staple food.

Wang Dong said with a smile: "If the bean curd is paired with my fritters, I dare to guarantee that it will not only be delicious, but also satisfy hunger." ”

"Really?" Hearing Wang Dong say this, the little lady's eyes instantly brightened and she was full of anticipation.

"We'll see."

……

At noon, the little lady of the Zhang family cooked, boiled some gruel casually, and the two of them made do with a meal. All their thoughts were on the kitchen basin.

In the afternoon when the temperature is right, the yeast makes the dough continue to ferment, a small part of the starch turns into glucose, which in turn turns into ethanol, and the carbon dioxide gas produced makes the dough swell and slowly produce many small holes.

About two hours later, when Wang Dong opened the lids of these basins, dough with different proportions of soda ash, salt, yeast powder and alum appeared in front of them, and exuded a sour smell.

"Hmm!" The little lady of the Zhang family pinched her nose and pointed to one of the basins and said, "Wang Lang, look at this basin, there is obviously too much yeast powder." ”

Wang Dong walked over and found that there were many more pores on the dough than other doughs, and the color was very dull. In his memory, the dough of fried fritters that Wang Dong had seen was not like this.

"Well, this ratio, it doesn't seem to work."

One was eliminated, and eight pots remained. The remaining eight pots of dough, from the appearance, are no longer easy to distinguish, only go down to the pan to see what the fried fritters look like.

"Lady of the Zhang family, bother you to make a fire."

"Wrap it up on me." For "Chuangzào", this little lady is obviously also full of energy, rolled up her sleeves, and began to add oil to the pot, and lit firewood in the stove.

Wang Dong chose vegetable oil for frying fritters, because if he used pork fat, he was afraid that the fishy smell of pork would cover the fragrance of fritters, so after a choice, he used soybean oil.

The little lady of the Zhang family was very familiar with the fire, added firewood, and after a while, the fire in the stove was hot, and the oil in the pot began to "sizzle".

Wang Dong naturally couldn't be idle, he washed his hands, immediately took out a ball of noodles from the basin, and then began to process the dough by himself in the order in his memory.

Connoisseurs will have their own tools at their disposal, such as using a wooden roller to oil the dough and a knife to cut the dough into strips.

But for Wang Dong, he doesn't have any of these tools, so he can only temporarily replace them with kitchen knives and his own hands.

The dough was not much, but under Wang Dong's stretching, it became a very long strip, and then he took a kitchen knife and cut a small piece, but it stuck to the knife.

"Wang Lang, the oil is already rolling."

"Good!"

The oil pot was already "crackling", Wang Dong hurriedly "pulled" the dough stuck to the knife, and then slapped it into strips about 1 cm thick and about 10 cm long, and then made a long strip of about the same size. Then Wang Dong folded the two up and down, pressed them in the middle with his index finger, rotated them, and stretched them into the hot oil pot.

Wang Dong's series of actions can be described as extremely clumsy, for fear that something will go wrong in the middle.

In the hands of a normal fritter master, these movements only take a few seconds. But for the clumsy Wang Dong, he spent nearly half a column of incense.

When he put the elongated dough cubes into the oil pan in fear, the pan immediately churned.

I saw bubbles popping up one by one from all around the noodles, and the dough began to change.

"Zizi Zi ......"

The little lady of the Zhang family also looked at the oil pot with a nervous face, only to see that the side was constantly churning, as Wang Dong described, it began to grow, and the color began to slowly turn yellow.

It's just that because the fire in this stove is too fierce, this piece of noodles is tightly in the pot for a while, and it is scorched.

"Hurry up and get out, hurry up and get out of it!" The little lady called nervously.

Wang Dong hurriedly brought wooden chopsticks and fished out the first "fritters" in his life from the pot.

"This is a fritter?" The little lady looked curious, "Doesn't it look special?" ”

A sugar-red thing, about 20 centimeters long and unevenly thick, makes it look unsightly. The fritters made here are far from the fritters in Wang Dong's mind.

Wang Dong smiled embarrassedly: "Have people missed, it's the first time for me." It's a little ugly, but maybe it tastes good? Let me try the taste first. ”

So, Wang Dong couldn't wait to pick up the fritters and put them in his mouth.

In the mouth of the fritters, a bitter taste came, not only that, although the outside of the fritters has been fried and burned, but the noodles inside are still raw.

"Phew!" Wang Dong squirted out the fritters in his mouth in one bite.

"What's wrong? Is it unpalatable? ”

Wang Dong looked at the lady of the Zhang family, thought for a while, and said, "Maybe the fire is too urgent, so although the outside is cooked, the inside is still raw." ”

"Then I'll make the fire smaller and try again."

"Good!" Wang Dong nodded, then pinched another piece of dough and began to make it into the shape of a fritter.

So, in the kitchen, Wang Dong's voice kept coming out.

"No, no, it's still alive inside, and the fire needs to be smaller......"

"The fire is too small, it can't be fried outside, and it's ...... bigger."

"That's right, that's right, the fire is just right, ahhh......h

"Wang Lang, is there too much alum? Try a different dough. ”

"Good!"

……

The two of them were busy with their work, and at night, there was still a big gap between what they made in their ideals and what they made in reality.