Chapter 22: Yeast Takes Shape
Day seven since Xiang Chuan transmigrated.
Xiang Weiguo pocketed the yam classification determination application formulated overnight in a meeting and strode into the meeting room.
Lin Minzhi held the first eight episodes of Empresses in the Palace authorized by her daughter and walked into her office.
Xiang Xue and Xiang Qi sat on the sofa in the entertainment room, starting to watch the latest two episodes together with the viewers in the live stream room, which had already grown to 2000 people. During this time, Xiang Chuan ignored Xiang Xue’s request to play all the images at once and insisted on playing only two episodes per day. This decision was supported by Xiang Qi. To reduce the trouble of Xiang Chuan running back and forth, he also taught her how to schedule the unlocking of specified video files, so she didn’t have to be called to the entertainment room by Xiang Xue every time to play new files. (Xiang Chuan: Feeling like she’s operating some video website.)
Lin Yu, who had been freeloading meals and drinks these past few days, happened to have a collective meeting with the diplomatic mission of the First Fleet and couldn’t stay for dinner. He could only repeatedly urge that his meal box have more things to satisfy his cravings.
Now, Xiang Chuan was having the kitchen AI and servants help take out the yeast.
As soon as the glass bottle was opened, a strong fermented sour smell wafted out, making Xiang Chuan feel cheerful. Yesterday she thought the yeast could be used, but after checking, she found that every 12 hours, half of the yeast starter needed to be removed and fed with half the original volume of water and flour. However, the remaining half during the first replacement had to be discarded. Her mood collapsed when she ordered the kitchen AI to throw away that half of the yeast starter.
Fortunately, this emotion didn’t last more than twelve hours.
Today she would perform the same operation as yesterday, with the difference being—this half of the yeast taken out today could be used directly!
She excitedly placed this half of the yeast on a kitchen serving plate, watching the kitchen AI feeding the bottle with water and fresh flour in yesterday’s proportion. According to the tutorial she saw on Geegle, this daily proportional replacement of water and flour needed to continue for four days, a total of eight times. On the fifth day, the proportion of the yeast starter used would gradually decrease, from the current 1:1:1 to 1:2:2 and 1:3:3. Continuing to the second feeding on the sixth day becoming 1:5:5, and after three more days of feeding, the yeast starter’s activity could be guaranteed. After that, it only needed to be fed every three days, restoring the proportion to 1:1:1.
The tutorial on Geegle said that the yeast flavor in the first few days would not be as good as the final state, but it was already in a usable state.
Xiang Chuan, who had been craving for so many days, couldn’t care less. Since it could be used, what was she waiting for?
The initial natural yeast had poor dough-rising ability, so for safety, Xiang Chuan directly kneaded a large basin of flour in a 1:1 proportion. When the kitchen AI sealed the food basin to start proofing, she suddenly got stuck:
With so much flour, what should she make?
She opened the recipe website she often searched on Geegle, entered “buns,” and the first one that appeared was meat bun.
Ah, meat bun, the ultimate deliciousness that’s tender and juicy. Even with chopped scallions inside, she could be conquered by the aroma to the point of ignoring the chopped scallions.
But unfortunately, pork couldn’t be eaten 30,000 years later.
Tearfully crossing off all the buns with pork, what remained were some sweet ones, vegetable buns, and less common beef buns and chicken buns.
Xiang Chuan: There are actually chicken buns? This is the first time she’s heard of them.
Just as she was about to close the terminal and have the kitchen AI fetch some meat from the warehouse, Xiang Chuan saw the recipe for steamed buns. To be honest, steamed buns were relatively low on her priority list. After all, as a traditional southerner from the 21st century, she usually ate more rice and her hometown rice noodles.
But at this moment, the image from rewatching A Bite of China the day before transmigrating suddenly flashed in her mind—the scene of dipping steamed buns in Northeast Paste…
Two hours later, Xiang Xue and Xiang Qi breathed a sigh of relief watching the ending credits on the screen.
“Was the ancient era really like this TV drama says, with women locked in big yards every day, fighting for the emperor’s favor?”
Xiang Xue sighed and asked. The past few days it was just her watching alone, but today was different. Xiang Qi had finished handling university student union affairs and could watch with her, so she couldn’t let him off.
“From some records collected by the Historical Research Institute, there was such a period, but it was abolished over 30,000 years ago. However, it’s not impossible that some people now see images with this background and yearn for the ancient era.”
Xiang Qi explained. The space-time network museum of the Historical Research Institute stores many publicly available records about ancient times, among which a very small number are about the ancient era. Records on this part were mostly lost due to the Fourth World War and post-war natural disasters. Afterward, various governments poured all funds and technology into fleet construction to launch the fleet immigration plan, paying little attention to such cultural matters. Fortunately, thanks to the persistence of people of determination in the private sector at the time, a considerable portion of ancient literature was preserved, ensuring that after entering the Tianyuan Era, humans wouldn’t lose basic cultural knowledge. However, records related to the ancient era and cultural entertainment were almost all gone.
“So what if they yearn for it? Women make up half of the total population. They want to restore… what’s that word? Anyway, even if they want to restore that whatever, modern women won’t tolerate them doing so.”
Xiang Xue said righteously, her expression serious as if she hadn’t just blanked on the word.
“You mean restore, right?”
Xiang Qi laughed.
“Yes, yes, that’s the word.”
The live stream room comment section was also full of agreeing voices.
Xiang Qi smiled without refuting. Of course, modern society wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen. Not to mention that nearly half of the fleet commanders in the Twelfth Fleet were women, the proportion of men and women in various industries, though differing, was overall close to equal in employment ratios. So even if some high-level person suddenly got a whim to change the social structure to the one-man-many-women setup from the TV drama, women absolutely wouldn’t let it slide—nor would men if it were the other way around. But in some underground industries that even Xiang Xue or Xiang Chuan currently wouldn’t contact, such “settings” were quite popular.
Of course, he wouldn’t tell his little sister, who was still in junior high, about this.
“Society is progressing, and ideologically it must be more advanced than ancient times and the ancient era. But there were some merits in the past worth learning from, weren’t there?”
Xiang Qi shook the apple milk in his hand. Yesterday Xiang Xue said she was tired of pure milk and sweet milk, so Xiang Chuan casually poured nearby juice into the milk pot, and surprisingly it tasted great. It instantly became the most popular beverage at home. Even this morning when parents were preparing to go out, Lisa and Xiao Ye quietly asked him to have the kitchen AI prepare two pots for them too.
“The ancients could only beat us in eating, drinking, and entertainment.”
Xiang Xue huffed unconvinced, but her hand picking up potato wedges never stopped, getting teased in the comment section as “the streamer is the most stubborn.”
At this time, a message from Xiang Chuan suddenly popped up on Xiang Xue’s screen:
[Xiao Xue, I’ve made new food, come down and try it.]
“Sister made new food! Brother, quick, let’s go!”
With that, Xiang Xue jumped three feet high from the sofa, grabbing her terminal and rushing out.
Xiang Qi originally thought it would be some small thing like rice flour cake or cream again, but upon arriving in the kitchen, he was first stunned by the row of white things lined up on the cabinet counter.
What is this?
Four or five white objects were stacked on each plate. They were round and flat, or pillow-shaped, or triangular, each steaming hot, with some deformed round ones seeping dark traces.
“Little Chef, just invert this directly onto the plate… yes, just like that!”
Xiang Chuan was having the kitchen AI pour the contents of the pot onto the plate. From the stew pot she’d been using to stir-fry these past few days fell something that looked crispy on the surface but seemed to still be white underneath.
“Hmm? You’re here. Quick, try these.”
Seeing the two standing in front of the cabinet staring blankly at the buns and steamed buns, Xiang Chuan quickly had the servants and kitchen AI move these plates to the dining table.
She originally thought the proofed dough would make just ten or twenty steamed buns, but unexpectedly, these yeast starters were more active than imagined. In an hour, it nearly doubled, forcing her to change her original plan of just doing vegetable buns and steamed buns to a balanced diet of meat and vegetables plus trying pan-fried noodles family portrait.
At the dining table, Xiang Xue picked up a bun and curiously took a bite. Since it was homemade and there were plenty of ingredients in the warehouse, the buns were basically thin-skinned and thick-filled. Xiang Xue’s small bite revealed the filling inside, nearly scalding her to huff and puff.
“So hot, so hot. Eh, what’s this inside? Green vegetables?”
Breaking the bun in half revealed snowy white Chinese cabbage. The Chinese cabbage steamed in the dough was so sweet and fragrant. Xiang Xue imitated Xiang Chuan by blowing on the bun, took a small bite, and it was extremely delicious.
Xiang Qi picked up a bun with some liquid seeping from the surface and tried a small bite, chewing into somewhat chewy meat and carrot.
“This is carrot and… what meat?”
“Beef.”
Xiang Chuan answered casually, then remembered that her family had only eaten seven-tenths or five-tenths done beef these past few days and hadn’t tried fully cooked. No wonder they didn’t recognize it. She casually took one and tasted it.
The flavor was a bit bland. Next time, try adding some pepper… or just stuff in a fried steak?
The original southerner from 30,000 years ago with slightly heavy tastes thought so.
