If the set of fried sticks in front of me is really Tianyangmu, I will do whatever it takes to get it.
This thing has been fried in a frying pan for so many years, and has long been burned through by the scorching Yang energy. Holding it in your hand will not gather Yin, but will double the Yang energy.
This stick is made of wood, wood can make fire, and Xu Mo happens to be an earth zodiac sign.
The most important thing is that Xu Mo is a boy, with a yang-fire energy!
This is a rare combination of luck from all directions!
It is no exaggeration to say that this fried stick seems to be waiting for Xu Mo to appear!
The boss lit a cigarette, sat next to me, and said with a smile, "Do you like it so much?"
"I love giving it to you."
"ah?"
For a moment, my jaw almost dropped.
I was worried about how to talk to my boss, but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative!
The boss blew out the thick smoke and chuckled: "What's so surprising about this? Isn't this thing already available?"
These few words of his made me completely confused.
He didn't seem to care at all about something so rare to see.
However, his next sentence shocked me: "It's just the kind of carpentry work I like to do. This thing can be made in an afternoon."
In just a few minutes, my heart felt like a roller coaster.
"You mean you did this yourself?"
The boss's face was full of pride: "Yes, I made this last week! I'm not bragging, this is the best black walnut wood! It's anti-corrosion and it's top-notch!"
"How's it going? It's not worse than what's done in a processing factory, right?"
I coughed hard several times to cover up my embarrassment. I was too sentimental.
"I've given you the stuff, and I'm going to close the stall."
The boss smiled, stamped out his cigarette butts, and started working on his own.
Xu Mo leaned close to my ear and asked tentatively: "Master, isn't it just a piece of wood? Why are you so distracted?"
My mind was filled with this piece of wood, and I was not in the mood to pay attention to him.
Suddenly, an idea flashed through my mind. I raised my head and asked repeatedly: "He just said, what is this wood made of?"
"D-Dark walnut?"
"What color is this thing?"
Xu Mo scratched his head: "Listening to the name, it should be black, right?"
I quickly took out my phone and found some pictures on the Internet.
Black walnut wood is not black, but a dark brown.
Look at the fried stick in my hand. It is a very pure amber color. This is contrary to common sense!
"go back!"
I shouted to Xu Mo, and then I realized that I had walked out dozens of meters.
When he returned to the stall, the boss was obviously confused.
"Why is this coming back again?"
"Uncle, when this wood was first made, it wasn't this color, was it?"
The boss grinned and said, "It's true, it's black and shiny when it's made, but it's gone in just a few days."
"It's strange to say that when I use this wood to make furniture, the furniture never changes color. Only this explosive stick changes color in a few days."
While he was handling the pots and pans, he added: "To tell you the truth, many people think this is some kind of antique treasure."
The same wood, other furniture has no problem, only the fried sticks that have been rolled in the oil pan will change color?
The problem isn't the wood, but the oil?
I lowered my head and took a closer look. The oil in the big iron pot was crystal clear, and it didn't look like it was running out of oil at all.
I cleared my throat and asked, "How often do you change the oil?"
The boss burst out laughing: "Young man, do you want to learn a craft?"
"I can teach, but you will never learn."
The boss held the sieve and pointed around: "Look at this street, I am the only one selling fried dough sticks."
"The same noodles, the same oil, no one else's food is as delicious as mine."
The boss is very nice, and he doesn't really seem to be afraid of me stealing his lessons. Instead, he teaches me a little lesson in a generous manner.
According to him, three generations of his family have been making fried dough sticks, and they have not only escaped poverty, but have even become well-off.
As for the recipe, it’s not that mysterious.
The soybean oil is changed every five days. In order to ensure the texture and taste, a little exhausted oil will be left in the pot, and the rest will be made up with new oil.
Three generations of grandparents have done this, and everyone knows it.
The boss said it without reservation, like pouring beans through a bamboo tube.
