Chapter 473.
<strong>Chapter 473. A Slow Day on a Farm. (6/6)</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">Inside the house, about half an hourter, Dawn presented the dish she cooked to me. There was a dry overcooked pork chop on the te. Next to it was a whole peeled raw carrot, a sliced-up raw tomato, and a pile of fried soybeans. Well, at least she had enough sense to cook the soybeans and I won’t end up sick if I ate them.
<span style="font-weight:400">Somehow, I was impressed by the simplicity.
<span style="font-weight:400">Did this girl at the very least salt the pork chop?
<span style="font-weight:400">“Did you space out when cooking the pork chop or something?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Sorry… I messed up. I’ll eat this set and try remaking yours.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal, I’ll eat it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">I picked up the knife and fork and cut off a small piece from a corner of the tough pork chop.
<span style="font-weight:400">It looked like cardboard. Just how did she overcook a pork chop this badly?
<span style="font-weight:400">“Stop. Yuh don’t have to force yourself to eat it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t worry, I won’t hold back in my assessment and I won’t mince my words.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s exactly why I’m worried. Just let me try making it again.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You’d just be running away from facing your failure. You won’t get better at it if you don’t get some feedback.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Just give me feedback on the next one. I already know what I did wrong. I overcooked the pork chop because I spaced out like yuh said. Ah! Stop, don’t eat it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">She reached out to grab my hand but it was toote as I’d already put a piece of cardboar- pork chop inside my mouth.
<span style="font-weight:400">“As expected of overcooked cardbo- ehem… pork chops. It’s... really chewy and tough.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yuh were gonna say cardboard, weren’t yuh!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Anyway, going beyond texture, to make this cardboar- pork chop taste better, I’d suggest at least coating it with a bit of salt before you cook it next time. Right now it’spletely nd. You do at least have salt, right?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Uh… yeah, we do.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Do you have any seasonings?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What about sugar?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“We do have sugar too.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then, in preparation to cook the pork chop, try browning some sugar in the oil before you put the pork chop in the pan. Be careful not to burn the sugar though.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Right… do yuh actually know how to cook?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Not really. I only picked up a few bits here and there from my mother. She taught me a few really simple things.”
<span style="font-weight:400">I picked up the carrot and bit into it. Honestly, it wasn’t bad or anything… but… it was just a peeled carrot at the end of the day.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How’s the carrot?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I mean… it''s a carrot. A carrot’s a carrot. Though… I will admit it does taste pretty good for a carrot.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Because we grew it and it’s fresh.” Dawn sounded strangely proud.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t get cocky. You could have done so much more with this carrot. You’re just letting it waste by serving it as it is.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yuh can do more with it?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Of course you can. You have an oven, right?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah, we do.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then here’s a very simple recipe. You even have all that you need already. First cut the carrot in half. Then cut both pieces of the carrot lengthwise into halves or quarters. Once you’ve done that, coat it in oil. Once coated in oil, sprinkle sugar over it and rub it in evenly across the surface by hand. Dump it in a tray in the oven and let the carrots bake at 350 F. They will shrink down and parts of them will turn ck, but that’s fine. When they start turning ck that’s about when they’re good to eat.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s all yuh need to do?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah. It’s really simple, but I guarantee they taste great. A lot better than raw carrots. Their taste bes concentrated and the sugar and oil bring out a richness to them.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Somehow, my mouth’s watering just thinking about it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">I picked up a tomato slice and bit into it. It was juicy, much better than the tomatoes I got in stores, but… just the same as the carrot, it was just a tomato at the end of the day.
<span style="font-weight:400">“As for the tomatoes. Since you don’t have any condiments like ketchup, you can use tomatoes as a sort of recement in the form of concentrated tomato paste. It’s pretty easy to make. Normally you’d use a food processor to purée them, but you can just put them in a stic bag and use a mallet until the tomatoes are broken down. Once broken down into a slushy form, put it in a strainer to separate out the seeds and skin to get just the juices. Dump the tomato juice into a pot, mix in some salt and oil, then let it dry down. If you do this, you’ll end up with a very rich concentrated vor from your tomatoes.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I see. I didn’t know it was that easy. We always just ate them like this.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Now, if you ever want to spice up your meals and bring out some real vors, you’ll have to go beyond using only what you grow on your farm. In terms of seasonings for meat my mother used when cooking, she often used a mix of soya sauce, oyster sauce, ketchup, which you can rece with the concentrated tomato paste, and a purée of a few different vegetables includingtro, garlic, green onions, and a touch of pepper. She also often sauteed chopped-up onions.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s quite a bit.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“It may seem like a lot, but what I’m talking about right now is nothing. Cooking is very deep andplicated. Rosa knows a lot more about the subject than I do. If you want to learn more, ask her. But the next time you visit a town or city I’d suggest picking up some of the things I mentioned. You definitely won’t regret it. These seasonings canst you a month if you use them sparingly. That way you don’t need to continually make trips every day to get more.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I never thought yuh’d know so much about cooking though.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“My mother cooked a lot and tried to drill a small fraction of what she knew into my head so I’d be able to cook for myself if she died. That way I could eat some of the things she made even if she was no longer around.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“The way yuh say it… your mom’s…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah. So you should hurry up and go see your own mother before that happens to her. People can die at any moment without warning. The longer you postpone things, the less time you’ll have together with her. Life is short. Eighty to a hundred years wille and go before you know it. Considering her current age, you don’t even have that much time to begin with. Time with your loved ones is precious and limited, it is very scarce, and once lost, you cannot get that time back.”
<span style="font-weight:400">I got to go back to the past, but even then, I didn’t get that time with my mother back.
<span style="font-weight:400">Sniff. Sniff.
<span style="font-weight:400">When I heard a sniffle, I looked up from the te in front of me and Dawn had her right hand curled up in front of her mouth with the back of her fingers under her nose.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Haha, was my critique of your food too much for you to handle and you’re gonna cry?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m not... I just have... a runny nose.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I see.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ran…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’ve made up my mind… tomorrow… I’ll go to the city… and meet her.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Who are you going to meet?” Of course I knew, but I still asked anyway.
<span style="font-weight:400">“My mom…”
<span style="font-weight:400">I scooped up a few of the fried soybeans, put them in my mouth, and chewed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“The soybeans could use some salt when you fry them.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Tears were pretty salty, weren’t they?
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’ll take note of that next time.”
<span style="font-weight:400">She didn’t cry and held it back.
<span style="font-weight:400">I hadn’t seen this girl cry before. She probably didn’t want to cry in front of other people after all. She’d likely grown up not wanting to trouble her father by crying.
<span style="font-weight:400">I understood the feeling since I never wanted to worry or trouble my mother by crying too.