Starting from a Bankrupt Sichuan Cuisine Restaurant

The scales of the topmouth culters were fine and soft; a simple push of a fingernail from the tail against the grain scraped them right off.

Mrs. Zhao was a quick worker. Within half an hour, the two of them had gutted and cleaned all the fish. After rinsing them several times in well water, they spread the fish out on a woven bamboo tray to air dry until not a single drop of blood remained.

"These look absolutely perfect," Mrs. Zhao said with a smile. "Do you need me to be your helper?"

"Could you manage the fire for me? I’ll steam a pot of rice first, then I’ll flash-fry the fish to set their shape. I’ll finish them off when everyone gets here so we can eat them fresh," Zhou Yan said, picking up the bamboo tray and heading for the kitchen.

He mixed starch and flour in a two-to-one ratio, beat in an egg, added a suitable amount of salt, and mixed in water to form a batter. Then, he poured the marinated small topmouth culters into the batter, stirring until each fish was evenly coated.

When the oil was at medium-high heat, he fried the fish until they were about half-cooked to set their shape, then removed them and set them aside.

The key to fried topmouth culters was the texture; a second frying was necessary to make them perfectly crispy all the way through.

The large topmouth culters wouldn’t be deep-fried today. They were marinating in scallions, ginger, and cooking wine. He planned to try adapting the "Huodu" method for crucian carp to make "Huodu" Large Topmouth Culters.

"Du" is a technique in Sichuan Cuisine Cooking. It involves slowly poaching the fish over a low fire, emphasizing a fresh, tender, and smooth texture.

The method was similar to the Tai’an Fish he had made before, the main differences being that the fish wasn’t coated in a thick layer of starch or deep-fried.

The ingredients for the braise were largely the same as before. He opened his pickle jar and scooped out a handful of the "three brothers"—pickled peppers, pickled ginger, and sour radish—dicing them finely. Dried chilies, scallions, ginger, and garlic were essential, as was a handful of chopped, homemade pickled greens.

In the Sichuan and Chongqing Region, the true test of a braised fish dish is how many bowls of rice one can eat with the leftover sauce.

If you earned the comment, "Save this broth for noodles tomorrow morning!" it meant your fish was cooked to an exceptionally high standard.

"Grandma!"

"Little Uncle!"

Zhou Momo’s cheerful voice drifted in from the doorway. With his guests’ arrival, Zhou Yan immediately started stir-frying the base ingredients.

One ladle of rapeseed oil and one of lard—the blended oils created a richer aroma. Once the oil was hot, he tossed in the diced pickles and stir-fried them until their moisture evaporated, releasing a tangy fragrance. Next, he added chili bean paste and fried it until the oil turned a brilliant red. He then threw in the scallions, ginger, and garlic, stir-frying until fragrant, before pouring in water and bringing it to a boil for five minutes to let the flavors meld completely into the broth.

Once the broth was seasoned, he carefully placed the large topmouth culter into the pot. The liquid just covered the fish. He added a handful of scallion segments and let it poach slowly over a low flame.

In another wok, he turned up the heat, letting the oil temperature gradually rise. Then, in two batches, he returned the previously fried small topmouth culters to the wok for their second frying.

The small topmouth culters floated to the surface, sizzling loudly as a delectable aroma filled the air.

The old lady came into the kitchen and walked over to the stove. Glancing at the two pots, she said with a smile, "One pot of batter-fried fish and one pot of braised fish. Nicely done."

"If I’m inviting Grandma over to eat, I have to make sure it’s good," Zhou Yan said with a laugh. He used a slotted spoon to lift the golden, crispy little fish out of the oil. The fish, weighing over two pounds, filled two large plates.

The old lady picked up a pair of chopsticks, plucked out a fish, gave it a little shake, and handed it to Zhou Momo, who was watching from the side with wide, expectant eyes.

"Thank you, Grandma!" Zhou Momo’s eyes lit up as she took the fish and chomped right down on its head.

CRUNCH!

’So crispy!’

’Even the little bones are crispy! They’re so crunchy and fragrant when you chew them! So good!’

The little one’s eyes lit up. She looked up at her grandmother in pleasant surprise. "Grandma, does the little fishy not have any pokies?"

"Take small bites and chew carefully. The bones are all fried until they’re crispy, so you can swallow them once you’ve chewed them up well," the old lady said with a smile.

"Mhm," Zhou Momo nodded obediently. She took small bites, chewing each mouthful for a long time before swallowing.

The old lady took a small fish for herself and ate half of it in one bite. Chewing thoughtfully, she nodded and said, "It really is perfectly crispy. You made the batter well—did you add an egg? The salt is just right, too. This would be excellent with a drink."

"A two-to-one ratio of starch to flour, beat in an egg to make a batter, add a little salt to the batter, and then mix in the marinated fish..." Zhou Yan explained his technique for the fried fish to his grandmother while lifting the poached large topmouth culter from its pot.

The flesh of the large topmouth culter was quite thin, so three minutes of poaching was enough. He removed the fish first, then turned up the heat to reduce the sauce. He added a bit of starch slurry to thicken it. When the sauce began to bubble and grow viscous, he drizzled a little vinegar around the edge of the wok and scattered a handful of chopped scallions on top. Finally, he poured the rich, thick sauce over the large topmouth culter on the plate.

Steam billowed up, carrying the fragrant aroma of the fish. The vibrant colors of the pickles, chilies, and scallions collided, making this dish of "Huodu" Large Topmouth Culter look thoroughly professional.

"You all go ahead and eat. I’ll just stir-fry some cabbage with pork cracklings and be right out," Zhou Yan said. He had Comrade Zhou carry the fish out of the kitchen. After a quick rinse of the wok, he ladled in a spoonful of the rapeseed oil left from frying the fish and, with a series of loud CLANGS, quickly stir-fried a vegetable dish.

When Zhou Yan came out with the vegetable dish, everyone was already seated, but no one had started eating.

Zhou Miao poured a healthy measure of baijiu for the old lady, then a smaller one for himself and Zhou Weiguo.

The two brothers didn’t usually drink; they were clearly making an exception today to keep their grandmother company.

"Sit down, sit down! We can’t possibly start eating until the Chef is at the table," the old lady said, smiling at Zhou Yan. "Want me to pour you a measure, too?"

"I’ll pass on the drinks. I’d rather have an extra bowl or two of rice," Zhou Yan said with a smile as he sat down. He could handle beer, but he had never gotten used to baijiu.

"Then let’s begin. After so many years, this is the first time I’m eating fish caught by Old Four," the old lady said, picking up her chopsticks. She started by taking a piece of the large topmouth culter for her bowl.

Zhou Miao’s face flushed, and he mumbled, "Actually, Momo and Zhou Yan caught the fish today."

"You didn’t even catch the small ones?" The old lady shook her head, laughing. "You’re just as skilled as your big brother, then. Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

"Hey, I’m still a little better than my big brother. At least I can catch *some* fish now," Zhou Miao retorted, a bit defensively.

"That’s the pot calling the kettle black; you’re two of a kind. Like a pair of sorcerers battling it out—it’s all for show," the old lady said, waving her hand dismissively. She had seen right through him.