Chapter 45: Spicy Kimchi

The two who had been fully revived in the space slept in late the next morning, only getting up after the others at the front courtyard's commune had long since gone off to work. Not only them, but the other members of Aunt Huang's small team were all cheerfully watching the rest head out to labor while they themselves stayed home, tidying up untended vegetable plots or preparing provisions for the winter.

Earlier that morning, Mingdai brewed medicine for Zhou Sinian inside the space and, taking the opportunity, made some sandwiches; they ate together there. After finishing, Zhou Sinian commented that they weren’t as tasty as steamed buns stuffed with meat, and Mingdai agreed. Coming out of the space, they felt it was even colder than the previous day, and Mingdai couldn’t help but sympathize with those who had to wade into water to wash radishes.

Their task for the day was to process the cabbages and radishes they’d brought back. Mingdai planned to preserve 200 of the 500 large cabbages for eating, storing them in her space warehouse for freshness, and pickle the rest. Half would be made into northern-style sauerkraut, and the other half into spicy kimchi.

After hearing Mingdai’s description of spicy kimchi, Zhou Sinian’s eyes lit up; he hurried her to work after finishing his medicine. Mingdai sent him off to clean the grinding stone for some peace and quiet. Watching him work so earnestly, she was quite satisfied, and took out all the drying mats and sieves she’d bought from Liu Dazheng’s house.

She found a wooden board, washed it, and set it on the drying mat to air. Then she began preparing the cabbages for pickling. Here, every household made sauerkraut, using methods similar to Aunt Huang’s in the drying yard. Mingdai, consulting the encyclopedia in her memory, chose a different technique.

While Zhou Sinian cleaned the grinding stone, she boiled a large pot of water and thoroughly rinsed all the big clay jars she’d prepared. She refilled them, set up a fire under the pots, and started handling the cabbages.

She sent Zhou Sinian to fetch water while she cleaned the cabbage roots, washing away yellowed leaves and soil, then placing them on the drying mats. Zhou Sinian stood ready with a kitchen knife; she handed him one, and he split the cabbages in half, setting them aside to drain. Their pace was quick, and before long, they had 150 cabbages ready.

They carried the cabbages to the kitchen, blanching each one in boiling water for a minute before handing them off to Zhou Sinian, who cooled them at the well, then placed them back on the drying mats to drain. This process was more laborious than Aunt Huang’s method, but resulted in pickled cabbages that lasted longer and tasted sweeter.

Once all the cabbages were processed, Mingdai sprinkled a layer of salt at the bottom of a jar, covered it with a layer of cabbage, stacking them crosswise in layers until the jar was full. Finally, she placed a large, clean stone on top, pressed it down firmly, covered it with a clean cloth, tied it tightly with rope, and set the jar in the cool shade of the kitchen to ferment.

Zhou Sinian had already pickled sauerkraut in the drying yard and had secretly tasted it—it was extremely salty, and he didn’t like it much. He was much more curious about the spicy kimchi Mingdai had described.

Following the recipe in her mind, Mingdai took a bag of peeled garlic and a dozen pieces of old ginger from the warehouse, chopped them finely, and showed Zhou Sinian how to use the grinding stone. He spun it like a whirlwind, quickly turning the garlic and ginger into paste.

She took a large basin, poured in three big bags of chili powder and four bags of fine salt, and, considering Zhou Sinian's taste, added two bags of sugar. She mixed it all well. Zhou Sinian, eyeing the fiery red mixture, snuck a taste while Mingdai was boiling glutinous rice flour, only to have his tongue burned by the spiciness, making him doubt whether Mingdai’s kimchi would actually taste good.

Mingdai paid him no mind, pouring the cooked glutinous rice paste into the basin, adding the ginger and garlic and mixing thoroughly. Finally, she added sliced pear, shredded white radish, chopped chives, and shrimp paste. She also found some fish sauce she had bought at some point and poured it in, mixing again. The aroma was already enticing by this point, and Zhou Sinian sidled over, reaching for a handful, only to have Mingdai slap his hand away mercilessly.

“Go chop the cabbages!”

Zhou Sinian looked longingly at the basin full of sauce, reluctantly dragging himself off. Mingdai took another basin, filled it halfway with water, dissolved two large bags of coarse salt, and submerged all the chopped cabbages for a short soak.

With these tasks done, Mingdai glanced at the time—it was nearly noon. She called out to Zhou Sinian, who was gnawing on cabbage leaves, “Come on, light the stove and make lunch!”

Zhou Sinian sprang up and rushed into the kitchen. Considering how obedient and hardworking he’d been recently, Mingdai decided to cook something delicious for him.

She took out a plate of jelly pork she’d prepared in the space, sliced it, then grabbed some pork belly, boiled a few eggs, and stewed a pot of braised meat. The aroma was so tempting that Zhou Sinian circled the stove, unwilling to leave for even a moment.

At noon, they ate cold jelly pork and braised meat over rice. Even Mingdai herself ate a full bowl, so stuffed she didn’t want to move for ages. Zhou Sinian, even more astonishing, ate four bowls; if Mingdai hadn’t stopped him, he would have gone for a fifth.

Mingdai eyed his noticeably protruding belly, worried he might burst, and quickly packed the remaining braised meat into her space warehouse. Zhou Sinian, still unsatisfied, licked the bowl clean and efficiently went off to wash the pots and dishes.

Mingdai sprawled in the warm kitchen, watching Zhou Sinian happily busying himself, thinking that this life wasn’t bad at all—much better than the lonely existence she’d had in her previous life.

After their midday rest, the cabbages were sufficiently pickled. Mingdai took them out, drained them well, and coated them inside and out with the prepared sauce. She handled this step herself, as Zhou Sinian was repulsed by the sight of her hands slathered in sauce, but happily munched on the tender cabbage hearts she’d already coated for him.

Once all the cabbages were finished, she placed them in a large jar, pressed them with a stone, and set them in the cool kitchen, thus completing all the pickling tasks.

With everything done, Mingdai checked the time and decided to process the radishes. She had deliberately kept them unwashed, still covered in soil, which made them easier to store. But they couldn’t be left outside, or they'd become fibrous.

She cordoned off a patch of ground near the front courtyard wall and had Zhou Sinian dig a half-meter-deep pit. They buried half the radishes there under earth; even after a whole winter, they would remain crisp and fresh, never turning woody.

The remaining half she stored in the space warehouse alongside the cabbages, planning to take them out as needed.

With their work done and still some time left, Mingdai suggested to Zhou Sinian that they go up the mountain to see if they could find anything edible.

Pocketing a bag of steaming, sugar-roasted chestnuts, they locked the door and headed toward Wild Boar Ridge.