When frying small fish, Xu Mumu and Xu Minglei were both in the kitchen watching closely. The rice shrimp were thrown into the pot along with the small fish, while the crabs were placed in the stove by Xu Minglei, ready to be roasted.
"Grandma, it smells so good, why isn't it ready yet?" Xu Minglei had swallowed several times already; it smelled even better than the crispy meat fried at home during the New Year—he really wanted to eat.
"What's the rush? Wait a bit longer." Madam Chen said calmly. With so much deep-frying, of course it smelled good.
Using so much oil at once, Madam Chen felt a pang of heartache. She wouldn't fry again next time.
After staring for another two minutes, Madam Chen scooped up the fried small fish with a slotted spoon, carefully poured the oil into a bowl to use for the next meal.
There was still some oil left in the pot, so she mixed some cornmeal, made a few cakes, and stuck them in the pot.
