The filtered soy milk was poured into the earthen jar, and the flames burned beneath it.
As time passed, the soy milk inside the jar began to heat up and gradually boil.
Han Cheng’s eyes were fixed on the jar, feeling a bit uneasy, fearing that the boiling soy milk might spill over the edge of the jar as it first began to boil.
If that happened, the water used wouldn't be suitable for making tofu.
And if that were the case, no matter how successful the tofu coagulation process was later, making good tofu would be impossible.
Fortunately, what Han Cheng feared did not happen. The soy milk inside the jar boiled for quite some time before it started to spill over.
Han Cheng used a moderately sized ceramic bowl to stir the soy milk to stop the boiling gently and instructed others to reduce the fire beneath the jar, ensuring no embers were left.
If enough tofu were made, the boiled soy milk could be scooped into another container, and then fresh soy milk could be boiled again.
But the tribe had few beans left, so all the soy milk was cooked in one go, meaning Han Cheng didn’t need to transfer any to other containers.
Boiled soy milk, compared to fresh soy milk, tastes very different.
The unpleasant taste disappears, replaced by a unique fragrance.
Han Cheng scooped some to taste, and the familiar flavor filled his mouth.
If only there were some fried dough sticks and a tea egg right now, Han Cheng’s soul would surely take flight in happiness.
After savoring the taste, Han Cheng noticed the others around him salivating. He wiped his nose and then scooped out two large bowls for them to taste.
There wasn't much soy milk, so they could only make do with a small portion.
Otherwise, with so many people, they wouldn't be able to make tofu that day if each person only got a small bowl.
Shaman took the hot soy milk, blew on it to cool it slightly, and then carefully sipped it. A fragrant taste spread in his mouth.
It wasn’t as rich as deer milk, but it had a strange charm that made him want to take a second sip after the first.
After sipping three times, Shaman reluctantly handed the bowl to Shi Tou, who had been eagerly waiting.
Shi Tou smacked his lips and agreed with Han Cheng’s words—these beans were indeed good.
Even though it wasn’t tofu yet, the taste was already impressive. The final tofu would likely taste even better.
While everyone took turns tasting the soy milk, Han Cheng took some brine from the jar he’d prepared earlier, dissolved it in water in a large bowl, and poured it into a long-handled spoon. ꭆÂ𝐍𝐨𝖇Èş
Because the brine Han Cheng prepared wasn't very clean, after dissolving in water, some impurities were left at the bottom of the bowl. He didn’t pour those into the spoon, as they would affect the flavor later.
After waiting for the soy milk to cool slightly, Han Cheng poured the brine from the ladle into the hot soy milk in the jar.
He poured about half, and the rest followed the spoon into the bottom of the jar.
Then came the crucial moment for making tofu.
Han Cheng pulled the spoon up from the bottom of the jar, and the soy milk inside began to swirl.
He quickly stirred three more times, then stopped to check. Many small, rice grain-sized particles had appeared in the soy milk.
After confirming the situation, Han Cheng stirred two more times, observing. The tofu curds had grown to the size of corn kernels, so he immediately stopped, not daring to stir any further.
Coagulating the tofu was the most critical moment in the entire tofu-making process.
Success or failure all depends on those few stirring motions.
If the stirring is insufficient, the soy milk and brine reaction will not be strong enough. When pressing the tofu, much of the soy milk will flow away, and it’s common to end up with only half the tofu you should get from the same amount of beans.
If you stir too much, the tofu will become tough, and the texture and taste will suffer significantly.
As Han Cheng stopped stirring, the tofu curds in the jar slowly gathered together, forming large chunks.
Han Cheng, with his heart still in his chest, smiled. The tofu he had just coagulated seemed to be turning out well, and it was no surprise that it would press into flavorful tofu.
However, before pressing the tofu, another delicious treat was to be tasted.
He fetched several clean bowls and carefully ladled the beancurd from the jar into them.
The beancurd was white and delicate; even without eating, just looking at it was enough to make your mouth water.
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Especially when Han Cheng added a spoonful of honey to one of the bowls, which made the beancurd even more tempting.
Before the beancurd even reached his mouth, people swallowing their saliva echoed around him.
Beancurd pairs best with white sugar, but unfortunately, the Green Sparrow tribe didn’t have any sugar, so they had to substitute it with honey.
After adding honey to several bowls of beancurd, Han Cheng took a small spoon and, with great care and slowness, stirred his bowl. He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it gently to cool it down, and then placed it in his mouth.
The tender beancurd melted in his mouth, and combined with the sweet honey, it was irresistible.
Han Cheng took several spoonfuls before handing the bowl to Bai Xue, who had been eagerly waiting.
Shaman stared at the beancurd in the bowl, somewhat dazed.
Just a moment ago, it had been soy milk in the jar, and now, after Han Cheng’s actions, it had turned into this white, blocky substance. How could this be so magical?
If he hadn’t seen so many wondrous things while following Han Cheng these past few years and hadn’t been involved in the whole tofu-making process, he would have already begun offering prayers to the heavens by now.
After snapping out of his daze, Shaman took a small ceramic spoon, carefully mimicked Han Cheng’s actions, and gently stirred the beancurd. Then he scooped a spoonful, blew on it to cool it, and placed it in his mouth.
His eyes immediately widened.
It wasn’t the taste that surprised him, but the fact that the beancurd, before he even chewed it, had already melted into water in his mouth.
What was going on here?
He scooped another spoonful of beancurd, held it up to his eyes, and observed it closely. It was a solid block—how did it turn into liquid once it was in his mouth?
For someone as knowledgeable as Shaman, this was beyond comprehension.
It wasn’t just him; Eldest Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, Shang, and Mao—everyone trying beancurd for the first time—looked equally astonished.
This was indeed an extraordinary thing!
It could quickly transform from water into a white block right before their eyes, and once eaten, it turned back into liquid without even needing to chew.
This... was truly marvelous food!
Hearing everyone’s reactions, Han Cheng smiled once more.
Living with the primitives, this was the most gratifying part—something as simple as this could make you feel accomplished, as if you had done something extraordinary.