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The tofu made by Zhao Sange is all handmade. He borrowed a small mill from the team and asked Zhao Sansao to use it to grind soybeans.
? Making tofu is not an easy task, even if it is processed by a machine, let alone by hand.
After the beans are soaked, grind them out with a small mill, cook them, brine them, press the pulp, and so on. It takes one morning to complete. Think about how tired they are. Basically, you have to get up at three o'clock in the morning. I was busy until six or seven o'clock.
Now it¡¯s the Chinese New Year, and there is a lot of demand for tofu. The tofu made by Brother Zhao is delicious, and the supply is in short supply. Brother Zhao wants to make more, but it¡¯s a tragedy for Mrs. Zhao. She has to grind beans, and her arms are tired It was so swollen that I couldn't even cook.
"I won't grind it anymore, you can go to the processing factory to process it." Zhao Sansao grinned in pain and said to Zhao Sange.
"I don't know how to go to a processing factory to process? Can the added bean noodles be the same as the ones you grind? Don't you know how thick it is?" Zhao Sange was angry and anxious: "Why can our tofu be sold? So good, it¡¯s because it¡¯s hand-ground! What kind of disease is that for you? It¡¯s a matter of a fly kicking its ass. Put some safflower oil on it, then do it, this is to make money!¡±
Aunt Zhao was so angry that she was about to cry: "It's okay for you to kick a fly, go grind it!"
Third brother Zhao picked up the broom and was about to beat him: "You're going against the sky, tell me you don't want to grind!"
When Zhao Sansao saw it, she cried and went to her mother-in-law for comment.
Mother Zhao is making bean buns.
?We separated, just the old couple, one pot of steaming is enough, unlike in previous years, ten pots and eight pots of steaming, and a few older sisters to help, by the way, talk about household chores, very easy.
"Mother, the child's father is going to beat me!" Mrs. Zhao San came in crying.
Everyone was startled, Mother Ye hurriedly put down the wrapped bean buns, and asked, "What's going on, what is this for?"
Zhao Sansao showed her swollen arms to her mother-in-law and others: "Look, my arms are so swollen, and he told me to grind beans. If I don't grind them, beat me!"
The one who came to make bean buns was Old Yang Po, who looked at Zhao Sansao's arm and immediately yelled: "Why is it swollen like this!"
Zhao Sansao's arms were swollen and shiny, and she looked very scary.
"It's all made by grinding beans." Mrs. Zhao cried as she said that.
Zhao's mother was so angry: "You are short-sighted. If he tells you to grind it, you can grind it. I don't know what happened to my arm!" After speaking, she went to find safflower oil.
"Yes, you can't spoil your body like this. You are still young, and you will suffer when you get old." Another woman said.
At this time, Third Brother Zhao came in, looked at Mrs. Zhao and said, "It's useless for you to hide here, the beans have to be ground!"
Old Mrs. Yang couldn't stand it any longer. Relying on being an elder, she reprimanded: "I said Mrs. Zhao, you didn't look at your daughter-in-law and asked her to grind her. You are asking for money and not for your life!"
Third brother Zhao said impatiently: "It's so serious, you can die if you grind a bean!"
"Then why don't you grind?"
"I still have to order some tofu, and I still have to press the pulp. Whatever she does, she just grinds a bean!"
Mrs. Zhao San said: "Do you have a conscience when you say this? Do I only grind beans? I don't press the pulp? Can one person do it?"
"Okay, stop arguing!" Zhao's mother came over with safflower oil, wiped it on her daughter-in-law, and said to Zhao Sange: "Why do you grind beans after this? Your second brother will process the grain tomorrow, and you will follow along." Beans, process more, it needs to be raised."
"Mother, I have to sell tofu tomorrow morning. What can I sell the processed beans tomorrow?" Third brother Zhao asked anxiously.
"Can you starve to death if you don't sell tofu for a day?" Mother Zhao stared at her son and said, "No matter how good the money is, it is not as important as people. You have to grind it out yourself!"
Third brother Zhao sat angrily on the stool on the ground and stopped talking.
He is also very tired. Although Mrs. Zhao Sansao helped him make tofu, he drove to the county town to sell it and then came back. It would be afternoon, that is to say, he would wake up at three o'clock in the morning and take a rest until two or three o'clock in the afternoon. This was repeated every day. Severe lack of sleep, coupled with the reluctance to eat and drink, the whole person is too thin and tired.
Zhao's mother felt distressed when she saw her son like that, her tone softened and said: "Stop sitting here, go back to the house and have a good sleep, and tomorrow will be a day off. Life is not lived in a day, and money is not earned in a day. , why worry, if you are tired, you will suffer, if you spend money, you will suffer, whichever is more and which is less."
"That's right, Zhao Laosan, money is more important than your body, listen to your mother and hurry back to sleepsleep. " Pozi Yang also persuaded.
"Look at how tired you two are. No matter how young you are, you can't stand being spoiled like this? You can't be poor if you don't make money for a day. What are you afraid of? Go to sleep and tell your wife to rest."
Everyone, please give me some persuasion, and I will persuade you. Brother Zhao also felt tired, so he gave Mrs. Zhao a hard look, got up and left.
Zhao's mother wiped the safflower oil on her daughter-in-law's arms and said, "Go back and lie down for a while. It's winter vacation now, and Er Ya is asked to cook and Ma Dan to work. It's so big, what can't be done, don't do it. Rest for a few days, and wait until the arm disappears."
"Mother, I'll just sit here for a while, and he'll ask me to grind beans again when I get back." Zhao Sansao was leaning against the top of the kang, looking extremely tired.
"I said how much money did you make selling tofu, so tired?" Old Yang Po asked.
Zhao Sansao smiled wryly: "You don't believe me, I don't even know how much money I make selling tofu."
"Pull it down, don't you know, I don't believe it!" Old Yang Po said.
"That's right, you two, don't you know how much money you earn?" Another woman said.
"I really don't know. He never told me. He only said that he made money. When I asked how much he made, he said, don't ask. You don't understand. You should grind your beans hard." Mrs. Zhao said. I couldn't help wiping away my tears: "Since I made tofu, I feel like his cattle and horses. I grind beans every day, and he loses money!"
Zhao's mother said angrily: "What are you talking about? Even if he doesn't tell you how much money he earns, you will have a share of the money he spends in the future. Return the cattle and horses. Look at which cattle and horses spend the owner's money!"
Old Yang Po laughed: "Listen, isn't your mother-in-law happy?"
Mrs. Zhao San was not angry either, and said, "Mother, I didn't mean that, I just felt that money is much more important to him than me."
Zhao's mother said: "One thing to say, the tofu made from beans ground by hand is delicious, and it is more tender than machine-processed ones."
"That is, I have eaten machine-processed ones." Old Yang Po said: "A man came to see a doctor and brought me a piece of tofu. Once I ate it, it was machine-processed. The beans were coarsely ground and pressed too hard. It's thick and hard, not as delicious as our homemade ones."
"That's right, the machine is so fast. The rice you grind is almost gone by you. It's much less than what we rolled out with the mill. It's all ruined!" said a woman. (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com