Chapter 206: Chapter 203: Flatbread, Taste of Home

Finally, the plane arrived, and Wang Liansheng and the others met Mr. Lian, who had just disembarked. This time, Mr. Lian didn’t bring Jenny Feng but a middle-aged man in his fifties named Zhang Runwen.

Zhang Runwen looked honest, of medium build, and was particularly stunned upon seeing Wang Liansheng.

“Awen.” Mr. Lian called him, snapping Zhang Runwen back to reality.

“Chairman.”

“This is our host from Huicheng, Section Chief Wang, Wang Liansheng.” Mr. Lian cheerfully introduced Wang Liansheng and Zhang Runwen.

Zhang Runwen had regained his composure, his expression was calm and composed, not exactly shrewd but certainly poised and steady, evidence of his experience working alongside Mr. Lian.

After introductions, the two people Wang Liansheng brought returned with the luggage, and the group left the airport and got in the car.

As the car drove down the road, Mr. Lian looked at the still underdeveloped villages on either side, somewhat lost in thought. No one knew what he was thinking, and no one disturbed him until the car stopped in a small town.

Wang Liansheng glanced at his watch and said with a smile: “It’s almost noon; we won’t make it back for lunch, so let’s have something simple here.”

Driver Xiao Liu smiled and said: “Mr. Lian might not know, there’s a special roast meat here where a whole pig is roasted in a pit. Freshly baked, the skin is crispy, the meat aromatic, great to eat directly, or stewed with cabbage.”

“Huang Family Roast Meat?” Mr. Lian smiled warmly.

“Old sir knows!” Xiao Liu scratched his head and laughed a little sheepishly.

Zhang Runwen said: “The Chairman studied in the provincial city since he was ten, lived there for four or five years, naturally familiar with the surrounding area.”

Then Xiao Liu said: “Our Section Chief Wang also studied in the provincial city.”

“Oh?” Mr. Lian showed interest.

Wang Liansheng laughed: “Just two years of technical school… Would the old sir like a stew, some roast meat, and a few vegetarian dishes? Their meat bun with green onion and pork filling is also delicious.”

Zhang Runwen wanted to mention that the Chairman shouldn’t have overly greasy food, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Mr. Lian shot him a glance, and he stayed silent.

“Sure, sure, I’m not picky.” Mr. Lian smiled and nodded, sighing, “Away from home for decades, I dream of the big buns and dumplings from home. Not sure if the water is different; no matter how they’re made outside, they’re never like home.”

Wang Liansheng brought tea leaves, asked the restaurant for hot water, brewed tea for Mr. Lian, and placed it in front of him, smiling: “I happened to hear someone say a few days ago that the natural surroundings nurture the people. In the past, when merchants traveled away from home, they would bring a handful of soil from their hometown. If they had trouble adjusting to the new place, adding a pinch of home soil to boiled water could cure them without medicine.”

This sounded somewhat far-fetched, but Mr. Lian listened intently, nodded slowly after a while: “It makes sense.”

Xiao Liu laughed: “Folks have their remedies; it shouldn’t be dismissed.”

But Zhang Runwen inwardly scorned it: the Chairman left home at ten, studied abroad for years, traveled thousands of miles, didn’t bring any soil, and lived to seventy, all hale and hearty.

A bunch of country bumpkins, not worldly-wise, treating rough and rustic remedies as miraculous cures.

It’s winter, so there aren’t many vegetables.

A cold dish arrived, vermicelli and cabbage hearts mixed with a bit of dried shrimp, seemed overly plain.

Yet, Mr. Lian’s eyes lit up, pointing to the slightly yellow cabbage heart: “This is authentic Jiao vegetables. Only Jiao cabbage has this yellow heart, free from the raw vegetable smell, carrying a hint of sweetness—perfect for salad.”

The server delivering the dish was pleased to hear this, immediately giving a thumbs up: “Old sir knows his food; we use Jiao cabbage, and the scallions are local specialty. Try them; the fragrance isn’t spicy, refreshing and appetizing, great for winter to cut grease.”

“Indeed, your local scallions are delicious, crisp and sweet; I have two classmates who love it, say it’s better than fruit.”

Soon, the server brought stir-fried eggs with scallions and a basket of lotus leaf pancakes, a stack of white, tender scallion whites, and a dish of sweet bean paste: “This is from our head chef, rare to meet discerning diners.”

Eastern Province people eat flour foods, with a wide variety, from regular steamed buns and dumplings to flatbreads like pancakes, griddle cakes, baked rolls, stuffed biscuits, and turnovers…

These lotus leaf pancakes are a common food, rolled thin; if possible, some scrambled eggs or meat for filling, eaten as wraps; otherwise, a dish of sauce, a couple of scallions, also delightful.

The stir-fried eggs and scallions with sauce satisfied both the luxurious and simple versions of wrap-eating.

Memory and habit are strange things; eating something regularly doesn’t seem special, but once unavailable, even after decades, the memory not only doesn’t fade but unconsciously gets beautified, becoming more profound and nostalgic.

Just like Mr. Lian’s attachment to home sounds, home feelings, including the taste of home. And wraps are a representative Eastern Provincial homemade delicacy.

Mr. Lian refused Zhang Runwen and Wang Liansheng’s help, took a lotus leaf pancake himself, stuffed some scrambled eggs, and rolled it up to eat: “Mmm, that’s the taste. Our Eastern Province’s peanut oil-fried eggs, most fragrant.”

Wang Liansheng saw him eating happily and joined in, inviting Zhang Runwen to eat while using his chopsticks.

Driver Xiao Liu moved faster, took two pancakes, added scrambled eggs, sauce, and scallions, rolled them up, holding them with both hands, taking big bites, cheeks bulging, eating sweetly.

Originally, Mr. Lian thought his pancake was delicious, but seeing Xiao Liu eat so heartily, he reconsidered, sending one piece of pancake into his mouth, took another, imitating Xiao Liu’s way of wrapping scrambled eggs, sauce, and scallions together, held the somewhat hefty wrap with both hands, glanced at Xiao Liu, took a big bite just like him.

The scallions were indeed crisp and sweet without heat, the bean paste fragrant, with fresh scrambled egg aroma… Combining the ingredients, big bites chewing, mmm, really extraordinarily delicious, each bite deeply satisfying.

With his mouth still full, Xiao Liu saw Mr. Lian mimicking him and smilingly asked: “How is it? Tasty? Pancake wrapped with eggs is a treat only available during wheat harvest at home.”

Mr. Lian wasn’t new to visiting, naturally knowing that people were not well-off yet, living fairly hard.

He nodded, smilingly asked: “Could you eat white flour every year?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep