Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

Chapter 505 Fried Fish Cakes

Time passed second by second, and the rice in the rice cooker was cooked. With a "click," it switched to the keep-warm setting.

She only glanced up to make sure the rice was ready, then continued to deal with the small thorns.

Don't rush, or you'll miss something.

If you miss a thorn, it might get stuck in your throat when you eat it later.

She'd rather do it for ten more minutes than risk something unexpected happening later.

She spent a full forty minutes picking out the three crucian carp, her fingers constantly searching for those tiny, almost invisible bones.

When she scraped out the last tiny thorn, she breathed a sigh of relief, straightened her back, and stretched her sore neck.

"The crucian carp is delicious, but the bones are so hard to deal with," she muttered.

She put the cleaned fish meat into a bowl, sprinkled a small spoonful of salt, mixed it well with her hands, and then set it aside to marinate.

Next, she dealt with the thawed fish. She glanced at the two large basins containing more than ninety fish, most of which had already thawed.

The thawing was faster than she expected, probably because the room temperature was quite high; she could even see a layer of melted ice water at the bottom of the basin.

The fish can be processed much faster now because most of them are common species for ice fishing in Linchuan: grass carp, bighead carp, and bream.

But regardless of the variety, they all have one thing in common: few thorns.

These fish are either carnivorous or live in deep water.

Their skeletal structures have evolved to be more efficient, eliminating the need for those densely packed tiny spines to support the muscles.

The fish bones are distributed very neatly. After removing the large bones on both sides of the spine, the remaining fish meat has almost no small bones.

She picked up a grass carp weighing about three pounds, held the tail with her left hand, and used the back of a knife to scrape off the scales with her right hand. After removing the scales, the fish's body was silvery-white.

Next, they cut open the abdomen, removed the internal organs, and removed the head and tail.

The grass carp's head is much larger and has more meat than the crucian carp's, so she didn't throw it away and put it together with the crucian carp's head.

Then slice the fish fillets, inserting the knife from one side of the spine, following the bone, with the blade gliding across the bone surface.

One piece, flip it over, another piece.

The two fish fillets were large and thick, pinkish-white, with clear fish meat texture. When pressed with a finger, they felt firm and elastic.

She casually rummaged through the fish fillets with her knife, but couldn't find a single tiny bone.

This is grass carp; it has lots of meat and few bones, making it easy to cook.

"These are good fish," she nodded in satisfaction.

How long did it take to catch more than ninety fish? She didn't calculate it, but it felt much faster.

One after another, they scaled, gutted, removed the head and tail, and sliced ​​the fish fillets. Their movements became more and more skilled and fluid.

In her hands, the fish were transformed into a pile of white fish meat, which was piled up in a large basin, growing higher and higher until it was full.

She packed the fish heads into a separate bag, containing grass carp heads, silver carp heads, and crucian carp heads, all sizes, filling almost half the bag.

These fish heads have thick, meaty flesh and are rich in collagen, making them perfect for fish head soup.

Fish scales, entrails, tail, and other miscellaneous items were packed into another bag. She planned to keep these things for later, in case they came in handy.

Fish scales can be boiled to make glue, internal organs can be used as fertilizer, and fish tails can be cooked into soup with other offal.

In this world, there is no such thing as true "trash," only resources in the wrong place. In the end, she put both bags into her spatial storage.

After processing the fish, it was past noon, and several basins of pickled fish were placed on the stove.

Xu Xiaoyan cleaned the stove thoroughly.

The rag was dampened and used to wipe away all the fish scales, blood, and innards on the cutting board. The debris in the sink was rinsed away, and the water stains on the floor were mopped dry.

Then pour oil into the wok and heat it slowly over low heat.

She scooped the fish out of the basin, drained the water, and placed it on the cutting board.

Then gently pound the fish with the back of a knife to loosen the fibers. Add flour, salt, and pepper, and knead by hand until well combined.

The ratio of flour to fish is about one to five. She adjusted this ratio by feel, so the batter is neither too dry nor too wet, doesn't stick to your hands when you knead it, and won't collapse when placed on the cutting board.

The oil in the wok was already hot, and it was slowly heated over low heat for almost ten minutes until the oil temperature was just right.

Xu Xiaoyan grabbed a fish cake and gently slid it into the pan.

The moment the fish cake hit the pan, oil splattered everywhere, making a "sizzle" sound, and the edges quickly turned golden brown.

She worked quickly, putting them into the pot one after another. The iron pot wasn't big; it could only hold seven or eight at a time.

She turned the fish cakes around in the pan to ensure they were heated evenly, then covered the pan to allow the steam to circulate and cook the center of the fish cakes thoroughly.

About two minutes later, she lifted the lid of the pot and used chopsticks to flip the fish cakes over one by one.

The flipped side has turned a beautiful golden yellow, shiny and with crispy edges.

The other side hasn't been fried yet; it's still the natural pinkish-white color of the fish.

Cover the pot and wait two more minutes.

Once both sides were golden brown and crispy, she picked it up with chopsticks, drained the oil, and placed it on a plate.

The first fried fish cake was steaming hot on the plate, its golden-brown surface still glistening with oil droplets, sizzling as it was cooked.

She couldn't resist picking up a fried fish cake, blowing on it twice, and taking a bite.

The outer layer is crispy, and you can hear a "crunch" when you bite into it, with crumbs falling between your teeth.

The fish is tender inside, still warm, and bursts with freshness on the tongue. The slight spiciness of the pepper spreads in the throat, and the saltiness is just right.

"It's delicious," she mumbled, then took another bite.

But this time, unlike when she made sausage stir-fried with garlic sprouts, she didn't cook the dish and eat it herself first.

She knew very well that most of these fried fish cakes would be stored in her space as part of her future food reserves.

So she didn't overindulge; after finishing one, she satisfied her craving and continued frying the next batch.

After some thought, she decided that pan-fried fish cakes with rice would be the best way to eat them.

The fish cakes are savory and fragrant, and the rice is sweet and refreshing. One bite of fish cake and one bite of rice is enough to satisfy you without any other dishes.

So she took out all the disposable bamboo boxes and lined them up on the stove.

The first pot of rice was quickly used up. She measured the rice, rinsed it, pressed the cook button, and waited forty minutes.

During those forty minutes, she continued frying fish cakes, one batch after another. The fried fish cakes were temporarily piled on a large plate, to be served later when the rice was cooked.

The process repeated itself: cooking rice, packing it into boxes, frying fish cakes, packing it into boxes again, the whole kitchen filled with the rich aroma of rice and fried fish cakes mixed together.

After all the fried fish cakes and rice were packed, she counted them; there were a total of seventy-eight boxes.

Looking at the densely packed disposable lunch boxes on the stove, Xu Xiaoyan suddenly felt like a restaurant owner.

We served 78 meals today, and they were all sold out. Business was good.

She couldn't help but laugh out loud, and then, with a thought, she put all the boxes into her spatial storage.