mchenry-crisis.org Chapter 16 The Most Stubborn Teahouse Owner
Chapter 16 The Most Stubborn Teahouse Owner
The recipe for brown sugar glutinous rice cakes only has four ingredients.
Glutinous rice flour, brown sugar, soybean flour, ginger juice.
Wu Ling looked at the prescription and thought it was simple.
It's much simpler than egg pancakes.
I got up early in the morning and started working before Qin Xiaowan arrived.
Mix glutinous rice flour with water to form a dough, pinch off small pieces, roll them into balls, and deep-fry them.
When the oil is hot enough, fry until the outer skin is golden brown and crispy. Take it out and place it on a plate to drain the oil. It looks quite presentable.
The next step, the brown sugar syrup, is crucial.
For the first batch, pour brown sugar into the pot and turn on the heat.
The sugar syrup caramelizes quickly and bubbles up quickly; he felt it was going quite smoothly as he stirred it.
Then the syrup turned dark brown.
It's bitter.
It hangs on the side of the pot like a layer of lacquer.
Pour it out.
For the second batch, cook over low heat.
This time, Wu Ling behaved himself. The sugar slowly melted and bubbled. He stirred it until it clung to the spoon. He was right at this point.
Then I poured in the ginger juice, and only after I finished did I remember that what Aunt Zhou said was "put the pot away from the heat before putting it back in."
The pot was still on the stove when the ginger juice went in, and with a sizzle, the ginger flavor dissipated.
For the third batch, he took the pot off the stove and poured in the ginger juice.
The ginger flavor has finally been preserved.
He was so happy that he put it back on the stove to reduce the sauce, and stirred it a few more times.
The sugar syrup crystallized, turning a pot of thick sauce into granules.
He squatted in front of the stove, looking at the third failed batch of brown sugar syrup, feeling as if the word "a little" on the recipe was staring at him.
When Qin Xiaowan pushed open the door, the kitchen was filled with the smell of caramel.
"What are you doing?"
[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name: 10 ...
"Make brown sugar glutinous rice cakes."
Qin Xiaowan looked at the stove.
The pot still contained the remnants of the third batch; the sugar syrup had crystallized and solidified at the bottom.
Sugar stains were splattered on the stove, and a spatula that had been scrubbed twice but wasn't clean was soaking in the sink.
A plate of fried glutinous rice cake dough sat alone on the side, without any sauce.
"Where's the prescription?"
Wu Ling handed her the note.
Qin Xiaowan glanced at it twice and then tied on her apron.
"Get out."
"I'll help..."
"Get out. The stove isn't big enough for you to waste."
Wu Ling was kicked out of the kitchen.
He listened to what was happening inside from behind the counter.
First came the sound of scrubbing pots and the rushing water.
After a moment of silence, the brown sugar was poured into the pot with a soft sound.
About ten minutes.
Qin Xiaowan brought out a plate.
Three pieces of glutinous rice cake, drizzled with brown sugar syrup and sprinkled with a layer of soybean flour.
"taste."
Wu Ling took a bite.
The outer layer is crispy, the inside is soft and chewy, and the brown sugar syrup is thick and has a caramelized aroma.
The ginger flavor is hidden at the very end.
It tastes just like the food I ate there.
"How did you do that?"
"The recipe says: low heat, no stirring, stir only when small bubbles appear, coat the spoon, remove from heat and add ginger. You understand every step, you're just too hasty. The more hasty you are with brown sugar, the more it will burn, it's the same principle as when you're telling a story."
She pushed the plate towards him.
"Bring the menu. Fifteen yuan a plate."
The first batch was cooked at 10 a.m.
Eight dishes were placed on the side of the counter.
Grandma Zhao tasted a piece first, nodded, and then asked for a plate.
By 2 p.m., all eight dishes were sold out.
Qin Xiaowan made a note in her notebook.
"All eight dishes sold out. They were gone on the first day of release, even faster than the egg pancakes."
"Do more tomorrow."
"How many?"
"Twelve dishes?"
"Okay. I'll go calculate the costs."
Around 3 p.m., there were still more than a dozen people in the teahouse.
A girl walked in.
He was 25 or 26 years old, with short hair, carrying a large backpack and a tripod in his hand.
She walked in, stood at the doorway for a moment, looked around, and then took out her phone to take a picture of the storefront.
When taking the photo, I even took two steps back to frame the old banyan tree at the alley entrance.
"Hello, may I take a video?"
Wu Ling looked up from behind the counter.
What kind of video are you filming?
"Food reviews, on Douyin (TikTok)."
She turned her phone over to show him.
The homepage reads "Chengdu Foodie Xiaoyu," and she has 120,000 followers.
"I do a series about old alleys, and I've passed by this alley several times. I had some free time today, so I came in to take a look."
"Take any photos you like."
"Thank you, boss!"
She set up the tripod, pointed her phone at the counter, and adjusted the angle.
I sat down and looked at the menu on the blackboard.
"One plate of egg pancakes, one plate of peach shortbread, and one serving of jelly." She paused, then pointed to the bottom row of the blackboard, "This brown sugar glutinous rice cake—is it a new item?"
"Just came out today."
"Then I'll have a plate of that too."
The egg pancake arrived first. She took a bite while looking at her phone, then paused for two seconds.
I put it down and flipped it over to check the bottom.
It is a uniform dark yellow color.
He took another bite, chewing very slowly.
"The batter is prepared in an unusual way, using fermented rice wine, and the timing of flipping it is crucial."
Wu Ling glanced at her.
When the brown sugar glutinous rice cakes were served, she picked up a piece, took a bite, and then stopped.
"The brown sugar syrup is simmered over low heat and contains ginger, which is added later."
"You're quite the smooth talker."
Qin Xiaowan peeked out from the back kitchen.
"If you're a food vlogger, you're not good at talking, so you're not doing anything worthwhile." Xiaoyu smiled. "Boss, is this the first day this glutinous rice cake is available?"
"Day 1".
"I was just lucky."
She also tried the peach shortbread and jelly, saying a few words into her phone after each one.
The filming lasted about half an hour.
She packed up her tripod and walked to the counter.
"Boss, I have a small suggestion. You could adjust the plating. Line the egg pancakes with parchment paper, and use a rough ceramic plate for the glutinous rice cakes; it will look more textured in the photos. Also, your counter..."
She glanced at the row of old things on the counter.
A bronze incense burner, pottery shards, and a cracked bowl placed at the very back.
"These old items have such a great atmosphere. If you could put them next to the desserts in the photo, the result would be amazing."
"Those things cannot be moved."
"I know. It's just using the scenery as a backdrop."
"no."
The little fish was stunned.
"Um... could you adjust the lighting? The lighting here is too dim; the photos taken with my phone look grayish."
"Just this light."
"Boss..."
"That's it, whatever the shot looks like is what it is."
Qin Xiaowan glanced at Wu Ling from the kitchen doorway but didn't interrupt.
She used to say, "If someone is being kind, you should be polite."
This time she didn't say anything.
Little Fish put away her bag and stood at the door.
"Okay. I'll send it as is."
Before leaving, I couldn't resist taking one more picture: Wu Ling was standing behind the counter, next to that row of old things, with light coming in from the window, half bright and half dark.
"This one is better."
She muttered something to herself and left.
The curtain fell.
Qin Xiaowan came out of the kitchen, stood next to the counter, and looked at him for two seconds.
"Did you know she has 120,000 followers?"
"know."
"Taking one photo for you is equivalent to posting on your WeChat Moments for a year."
"Um."
"You still won't change."
"No changes."
Qin Xiaowan didn't say anything more and went back to the kitchen.
The peach shortbread is almost done; it needs to be turned over in the oven.
three days later.
Sunday morning.
When Wu Ling opened the door, there were four people standing at the alley entrance.
Not a seasoned tea drinker, but a young person using their phone to find their way.
"Excuse me, is this Wu's Teahouse?"
"Yes."
"Is it from that video?"
"What video?"
One of them handed over the phone.
Title:
"Chengdu's most stubborn teahouse owner: His egg pancakes shut me up."
The five-minute video has been viewed 470,000 times.
The narration by Xiaoyu didn't use that exaggerated mukbang style; instead, she spoke slowly, sentence by sentence.
"This is the most stubborn owner I've encountered since I started exploring restaurants in Chengdu. I suggested making the plating look nicer, but he said no. I suggested brighter lighting, but he said it was fine as it was. I asked to take a picture of the items on the counter, but he said no."
The camera cuts to a close-up of an egg pancake.
"Then I took a bite of his egg pancake."
It paused for two seconds.
"Okay. He has every right to be stubborn."
The last image used was the one taken when she left.
Wu Ling returned the phone.
"Come in and sit down."
The tea wasn't even ready when the curtain was lifted again.
One group after another came looking for us, all holding their phones.
The curtains were drawn all morning.
Qin Xiaowan glanced at the number when she came out of the kitchen.
There are more than 30 people now; usually at this time there are at most 15.
Before she could think much, she turned around and saw that all three stoves on the kitchen counter were running: egg pancakes were being fried, peach shortbread was being baked, and brown sugar syrup was being simmered.
She didn't have time to wipe the sweat from her forehead; she just wiped it with her sleeve and continued flipping the egg cakes.
The first floor was full.
Someone asked if they could go up to the second floor.
The second floor is usually closed. Qin Xiaowan ran upstairs to wipe off the dust. When she came down, there were already people standing at the door waiting for a table, holding milk tea from Boss Zhang's shop next door.
Wu Ling was making tea behind the counter.
One pot after another was brewed, one bowl after another was served, and two tea canisters were replaced.
A girl was taking pictures of the mural with her phone, the flash going off repeatedly. He wanted to tell her not to use the flash, but he didn't have time to say it.
The brown sugar glutinous rice cakes were the first to run out.
Ten dishes were sold out before noon.
Then came the egg pancakes.
"Boss, do you still have egg pancakes?"
"Sold out."
"We came all the way from Chunxi Road..."
"Excuse me. Please come early tomorrow."
That person's face was not good-looking.
His companion tugged at him, finished his tea, and left.
In the afternoon, Qin Xiaowan stood in front of the blackboard with a marker, marking each line one by one.
Egg pancakes, a horizontal line; peach shortbread, jelly, also a horizontal line.
The glutinous rice cakes were already sold.
Only one line remained on the blackboard: "Covered bowl, three flowers, fifteen."
Someone looked at the blackboard, then at Wu Ling.
"Is that all you have?"
"That's all we have left, tea."
Someone took a picture of the blackboard.
Four horizontal lines, and I posted it on my WeChat Moments.
Caption: "I'm late."
When Qin Xiaowan carried the empty plate back to the kitchen, she opened Dianping (a Chinese review platform).
A new review: Samsung.
"I queued for forty minutes, and the egg pancakes and glutinous rice cakes were all sold out. I only had a bowl of tea. The environment was alright. Three stars."
Qin Xiaowan took her phone and walked to the counter.
"Look."
Wu Ling glanced at it.
"Do you know what 'three stars' means? On Dianping (a Chinese review platform), a three-star rating means you're failing. It takes ten five-star ratings to make up for the drop in rating from one three-star rating."
"He was late and didn't get any food, is it my fault?"
"It's not your fault. It's the production capacity that's to blame."
She put her phone back in her pocket and sat down opposite him.
"Wu Ling, how many people came today?"
"Seventy or eighty?"
"Ninety-three. I counted. Usually, I get at most forty a day."
"fine."
"Pretty good? The egg pancakes were sold out by noon. The peach shortbread was completely gone. The glutinous rice cakes were sold out by eleven. At least thirty out of ninety people left without getting anything to eat."
"Make more tomorrow."
"Do more?"
Qin Xiaowan pulled off her apron and draped it over the back of the chair.
"I've been working on this since morning, and my hands are shaking. It's just the two of us, and we can only feed a maximum of forty people. More than ninety people came today."
"What should we do then?"
"Either add more staff, or add more equipment, or limit production. We'll only make so many each day, and once they're sold out, that's it."
Limited edition.
Limited edition?
"Yes. I have two hands, and you have two hands. We can't do any more."
Qin Xiaowan looked at him for two seconds.
"Every time you have a chance to expand, you shrink back. Teacher Su said your stuff is worth eight million, but you wouldn't sell. Your video went viral, but you didn't change the plating. When people come, you say it's a limited edition. Wu Ling, what exactly do you want to make this teahouse?"
Wu Ling looked at the teahouse.
There were still more than a dozen people sitting on the first floor, and two of them were taking selfies in front of the table.
Someone was leaning on the railing on the second floor taking pictures of the mural.
"that's all."
Qin Xiaowan remained silent for more than ten seconds.
"Okay. I'll handle the limited quantity. Thirty servings of egg pancakes per day, while supplies last," he posted on the door.
"Isn't this a form of scarcity marketing?"
"That's a fact, not a gimmick. But Wu Ling, you need to give people a reason to come. The egg pancakes are sold out, and the tea tastes the same as always. Why should anyone feel it's worth the trip?"
Wu Ling looked at the teahouse.
Anyone can make egg pancakes, and peach shortbread can be found everywhere.
There's only storytelling, nothing else like it.
"storytelling."
Qin Xiaowan glanced at him.
"Didn't you say that on Saturday?"
"Say it every day."
"every day?"
"At 3 PM, I'll say something short. You'll hear it as soon as you arrive."
"Can your voice handle it?"
"Contains pangdahai (a type of herb)."
"OK."
It's closed.
After Qin Xiaowan finished calculating the accounts, she drew a circle on her notebook.
"Today's daily revenue exceeded two thousand for the first time!"
two thousand.
A teahouse that usually sells tea for 600 yuan a day now sells tea for over 2,000 yuan a day
She closed the notebook.
"One video can generate 2,000 yuan a day. Just imagine, if we can handle the guest traffic, we can achieve at least 3,000 yuan in daily revenue."
Wu Ling wiped the cup.
"There will be less tomorrow. The hype will die down."
"That's right, but what if you have something new every week? New snacks, new storytelling jokes? The hype won't die out so quickly."
"I'm not in the business of generating traffic."
"I didn't say I was chasing traffic. If you have something good, let more people know about it. That's not traffic, that's doing business."
She took her bag and walked to the door.
The curtain was lifted, and Boss Zhang came in.
She was holding two cups of milk tea.
"Boss Wu, here are two drinks for you."
"Why would you give something away? You're just losing money!"
Qin Xiaowan accepted the cup.
"What loss? Today, the line stretched all the way to the alley entrance. Many people couldn't wait and bought a milk tea from me while they waited. This afternoon's sales doubled compared to usual."
Boss Zhang leaned against the door frame and smiled.
"There was also a young man who waited for forty minutes. When he finally got to the front of the line, the egg pancakes were sold out, so he had a bowl of tea and left."
"Then he lost out."
"He didn't feel cheated. When he left, he told me: 'Come earlier next time.'"
Boss Zhang took a sip of milk tea.
"If you become famous, I'll benefit too. You can line up every day from now on, and I'll just sell milk tea next to you."
"You wish," Qin Xiaowan said, taking a sip. "Your milk tea is still too sweet."
"Then don't drink it."
Boss Zhang is gone.
Qin Xiaowan watched his retreating figure and muttered, "He's the one living the most comfortable life in the whole alley."
That evening, Wu Ling tidied up by himself.
I wiped the countertop, washed the dishes, and stirred the charcoal on the stove.
There was still half a plate of brown sugar glutinous rice cakes left on the table. They had cooled down, and the brown sugar syrup had solidified into a thin shell.
He picked up the plate of glutinous rice cakes to take it away, but slowed down as he passed the mural.
There's a small, faded patch in the bottom right corner.
The street scene, which was originally quite clear, is now blurred.
It was clear last week.
He stood there for a moment, thinking; he had been busy since last week.
I was busy making glutinous rice cakes, listing dishes, dealing with small fish, serving tea and water—I was constantly on the go from morning till night.
I haven't gone through the back door for several days.
He placed the glutinous rice cake dish on the counter and walked to the back door.