Call Me Daddy

“If it really doesn’t work out, shall we go to the hospital?”

Miao Yinhua had been thinking for many years about how she and her old spouse relied on each other. If her old spouse really developed dementia, she was determined to take good care of him.

In this case, the business in the shop would definitely suffer. Not only because her skills were not as good as her husband’s, but also because she had seen many dementia patients in the news who had gone missing because their families temporarily neglected them.

Thinking that her husband might wander off due to her negligence, starting a life of wandering from one full meal to the next, and realizing that the small shop wouldn’t be able to provide enough savings for their grandchildren, the old lady couldn’t help but feel sorrowful.

“Go to the hospital? What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Su Quangen didn’t even think about his old spouse’s rich imagination. He saw Miao Yinhua looking healthy with rosy cheeks and speaking energetically, thinking there shouldn’t be any major issues.

He continued to quietly share his discovery with his old wife.

“Our son really is a genius. I actually noticed it yesterday. Don’t you think that pot of braised pork trotters with soybeans was especially good? Let me tell you, it’s because our son came to the kitchen yesterday and added some seasoning to that pot of soup. Believe it or not, his control over saltiness and spices is even more precise than mine. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but today, just like yesterday, he’s in the back kitchen filming me cooking, and he’s pointing out to me again that I put too much salt and too little sugar… I ignored him, so he just did it himself.”

The old man rambled on, and as he spoke, his expression began to dream.

“At first, I was mad that he was messing with me. Can you just add seasoning randomly? If it ruins the taste of the dish, I’ll have to redo it. But then I tasted it… hey, it was perfect!”

The old man couldn’t contain his excitement, and as he finished the last word, he vigorously slapped his own thigh.

“Back then, my Father told me about a certain type of people whose taste buds are extraordinarily sensitive. This innate talent is something many chefs train their whole lives for but can never surpass. If he had a son with a tongue like ours, my Father wouldn’t have hesitated to discipline me. He would have insisted I pass on our family’s culinary skills.”

Su Quangen sighed with emotion. He felt that a hundred years from now, his father might still be underground waiting with a stick, ready to give him a beating for wasting such a good seed like his son.

“But now that we’ve discovered it, it’s not too late.”

With that, the old man chuckled mischievously.

Smack!

A slap from the old lady interrupted his reverie.

“Yinhua, why are you hitting me?” Su Quangen rubbed his arm where she had slapped him, looking aggrieved.

“You scared me!” She had thought he was starting to have dementia, causing her unnecessary worry and distress.

Su Quangen: “?”

“He has the ability, but is it something to scare people with?”

“Let’s not talk about that. Quickly, tell me again about our son being a genius.” Miao Yinhua couldn’t help but attach great importance to the treasure in her heart.

Su Quangen: “???”

His confusion was growing. Could it be that what they initially talked about wasn’t related to their son at all?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that his wife was acting strangely today. Could it be dementia setting in? In Su Quangen’s mind, he had already scheduled their annual health checkups.

***

By the time lunch started at the Su household today, it was almost 2 in the afternoon.

There was the customary winter melon pork rib soup, and in addition, Su Quangen had prepared two more dishes; crispy fried small yellow croakers and tomato scrambled eggs.

Tomato scrambled eggs were a simple home-cooked dish that didn’t test culinary skills much. There were no secret techniques; anyone could make it at home to achieve a delicious sweet and sour taste. Miao Yinhua liked her tomato scrambled eggs slightly overcooked, lacking in appearance but rich in flavor, especially delicious when mixed with rice.

The small yellow croakers were delivered fresh by a seafood vendor specializing in supplying the Su family’s small shop. They were very fresh, their scales still gleaming brightly. However, they were a bit small in size and not very plentiful, so Su Quangen simply deep-fried them.

The method for crispy fried small yellow croakers, one might say it’s not difficult, but it’s not exactly easy either.

First, clean the small yellow croakers, remove the internal organs, and wash them thoroughly. Then marinate them with cooking wine, salt, ginger, and other seasonings.

It’s worth mentioning that while Su Quangen was marinating the small yellow croakers, his talented son casually removed the old ginger he had stuffed inside the fish and threw it away. He also wiped off some of the salt on the fish skin.

Because Su Quangen was consciously observing Su Aobai, he couldn’t help but ask immediately.

“Why did you remove some of the salt I applied? I can understand that maybe too much salt would make it too salty, but why did you remove the ginger?”

Su Quangen had always marinated fish like this before and didn’t think he had done anything wrong.

“Oh? Shouldn’t it be done like that?”

Su Aobai looked puzzled. “I just followed what was written in Grandpa’s notes.”

“Notes? What notes?”

Su Quangen paused, perplexed. Did my old man leave any notes for descendants?

“Dad, don’t you know? They’re in the attic, in the boxes. I thought they were Grandpa’s relics.”

The Su family’s small building had three floors: the ground floor was the shop, the second floor housed the elderly couple’s rooms, a shared living room, and bathrooms, while the third floor belonged to Su Aobai and his son. Above the third floor, there was a very small attic accessible only by ladder, where old items the family no longer used but couldn’t bear to throw away were stored.

Some of Grandpa Su’s belongings were kept in the attic, including clothes he wore during his lifetime, items and books he loved. There were several boxes of them.

Su Quangen had personally stored these items away years ago; But were there notes among them? How come I don’t remember?

Could they have been mixed in with those few books?

Su Quangen pondered, but the notes wouldn’t have gone anywhere, so he needed to clarify why things were done that way.

“Ginger has a strong flavor that can remove fishy and gamey odors from meat. However, these small yellow croakers already have a delicate and mild taste. Marinating them with ginger would mask their natural delicacy. As for salt, Dad, haven’t you noticed how steamed fish we used to eat at home would sometimes be a bit too firm? That’s because too much salt tightens the fish meat by drawing out moisture. So, when marinating, it’s better not to use too much salt and not to marinate for too long.”

Moreover, deep-frying in hot oil already masks some of the ingredients’ natural flavors. For such fresh small yellow croakers, using too many seasonings in marination would actually diminish their own freshness.

With this explanation, everything made sense, and Su Quangen couldn’t find fault with it.

But the problem was, he had never thought before that adding so much salt could affect the texture of the fish. For most people, these subtle changes were imperceptible because there were too many variables combined together, resulting in noticeable differences.

However, for some discerning gourmets with sensitive palates, even the slight variations in salt during fish marination could determine the success or failure of a dish.

Su Quangen tacitly accepted his son’s actions and started preparing the batter when the fish had marinated sufficiently.

He mixed eggs, flour, and starch in proportions to create the batter. Meanwhile, Su Aobai casually added a bit more flour while Su Quangen was measuring out the flour and starch.

Su Quangen didn’t protest and let him proceed. After coating the marinated small yellow croakers with the batter, he poured them into the hot oil pan and fried them until golden on both sides, then removed them to drain excess oil.

He brought this dish along with the already cooked tomato scrambled eggs to the dining table. Before the old lady could even finish setting the table, she grabbed a small yellow croaker and took a bite.