My Manor

The taste of American redfish is actually quite similar to that of yellow croaker, but the price is significantly lower.

By the seaside, the wholesale price of redfish is about 60 yuan per catty—this is the price in China.

In the United States, one pound costs around 8 US dollars, which is much more expensive than cod.

Of course, the supply doesn't compare to cod, but Jiang Hai isn't concerned about that. He knows how to increase the output. The main appeal of this fish is its flavor, and the best way to prepare it is by steaming it, especially if it's a live fish.

Once Jiang Hai returns, he plans to prepare the fish. He'll begin by knocking it unconscious, then killing it, removing the internal organs, and scraping off the scales. Next, he'll slice ginger and green onions, setting some aside for later, and stuffing some into the fish's belly and body. A bit of cooking wine is added for marinating. After about ten minutes, the fish is ready to be steamed. It's placed in a steamer and steamed for ten minutes. Afterward, the fish is removed, the broth is poured out, and the ginger and green onion bits inside the fish are discarded.

A little steamed fish bean curd is poured over the fish, and slices of ginger and green onions are placed on top. Jiang Hai then heats oil in a pan, frying some peppercorns. After the peppercorns are cooked, they are removed, and the flavored oil is drizzled over the fish.

This is a simple yet effective dish that maximizes the fish's natural freshness.

As Jiang Hai cooks, the smell of the fish begins to fill the villa, drawing the attention of Darlene and Marian, as well as Bernice and Xiaoya on the second floor, who come downstairs to inquire about the pleasant aroma.

The Boston area, located on the easternmost part of the United States, experiences early sunrises and early sunsets. Despite the Eastern Time Zone, there's only a one-hour time difference.

By the time Jiang Hai returns from fishing, it's already fully dark—there's no sunlight, and it's time for Xiaoya to move about. This is also the first time she takes a good look around Jiang Hai's villa.

Darlene and Marian, noticing how unusually pale Xiaoya is, are a little taken aback. They've never encountered anyone so fair-skinned.

"Is there anything I can do?" Xiaoya asks after walking around the villa. She's quietly impressed by its size—it's much larger than her family's villa in China. When she steps out onto the balcony, gazing at the moon and the stars, she feels a sense of tranquility. The view is something she wouldn't find in China's urban areas; it's more typical of the countryside. Jiang Hai's villa embodies this rural charm.

However, Bernice, concerned that Xiaoya might catch a cold, gently ushers her back inside after a brief exploration. While waiting for dinner in the living room, Xiaoya feels a bit shy and decides to head to the kitchen to lend Jiang Hai a hand.

"No need to help," Jiang Hai says with a smile. "I'm not preparing anything elaborate. The fish is already cooked. I'll just fry the steak, and then we can eat." He doesn't want to impose on his guest.

"The salad still needs to be mixed. I can help with that," Xiaoya says, spotting the vegetable salad in a bowl nearby. She smiles at Jiang Hai. Surprised, he nods, agreeing for her to help.

If she wants to pitch in, he's happy to let her. Xiaoya grins, retrieves some ketchup and salad dressing from the fridge, and begins preparing the salad. It's worth noting that while Jiang Hai enjoyed these sauces in China, after moving to the United States, he quickly grew tired of them—Americans use them so often. Now, Jiang Hai usually sticks to eating meat and has his vegetables plain, like lettuce or carrots.

"Wow, there's so much variety in the sauces here. Do you want to try some Northeastern cold dishes?" Xiaoya suddenly exclaims, clearly excited by the options.

"Northeastern cold dishes?" Jiang Hai asks, intrigued. He hasn't had those in a while.

"Yes, I know how to make them. May I?" Xiaoya asks eagerly, smiling at him.

"Of course," Jiang Hai replies. Honestly, he's intrigued. It's not easy to find an authentic Chinese meal in the United States, and even cold dishes are rare. The challenge lies in finding the ingredients. For example, while tofu is readily available, dried tofu and black fungus are almost impossible to find unless you're buying from Mr. Zhang's shop.

In the U.S., ingredients like fans and noodles are not hard to find, but the cultural gap between the two countries makes it challenging to cook authentic Chinese dishes. However, Jiang Hai has managed to source some ingredients with effort, and though he can't find all the essentials, having someone to help mix the cold dishes is a welcome change.

With Jiang Hai's approval, Xiaoya gets busy. She opens a jar of sesame paste, mixes in vinegar, seafood soy sauce, salt, and chicken essence, all while explaining her process. In Europe and the U.S., people rarely use chicken essence or MSG, even in soup, and they typically rely on sauces and salt for seasoning. When Jiang Hai bought chicken essence, both Darlene and Marian barely touched it, leaving it mostly for him.

Xiaoya's face lights up with enthusiasm. "I heard you're from the Northeast too?" she casually asks while stirring the sauce.

"Oh, yes, I'm from Bingcheng," Jiang Hai replies. Since Xiaoya seems capable in the kitchen, he focuses on frying the steak.

"What a coincidence!" Xiaoya exclaims. "Our hometown is also Bingcheng. I haven't been home in ages, not even for Chinese New Year." Her voice carries a note of melancholy.

"Well, haha, you'll get a chance to go home this year. Don't worry; I'm confident in your recovery!" Jiang Hai chuckles, glancing at the girl. He knows it would be easy for him to help her. With his spiritual energy, he could heal her in no time. But as Bernice suggested, it's better to take a more discreet approach.

"I'm so grateful. If I recover, you must come to my home in Bingcheng to visit!" Xiaoya smiles, expressing her gratitude.

Jiang Hai feels a little awkward hearing her words, though he laughs it off. He's thinking too much about a few simple words of thanks. His attention shifts back to the cooking. By this time, the beef is fried, and Xiaoya's sauce is ready.

She skillfully adds the sauce to the prepared vegetables, and soon a large bowl of cold dishes, rich with the aroma of sesame sauce, is ready. The fragrance makes Jiang Hai's mouth water, so he hurries to finish preparing the meal. The table soon holds three large dishes.

Darlene and Marian are momentarily stunned at the spread. They've had fish and beef before, but the cold dish is something new to them. Curiosity piqued, they try a bite. The taste is unexpected—though they enjoy the tanginess of ketchup and salad dressing, they're surprised by the more subtle, refreshing sourness of the vinegar, balanced by the sesame sauce. The chili oil adds a gentle kick, making it an enjoyable experience.

Jiang Hai and Xiaoya sit down to eat as well. Xiaoya is full of praise for Jiang Hai's beef, noting the high quality. She also enjoys the American redfish. These dishes are a real eye-opener for her. She keeps giving Jiang Hai's cooking a thumbs up—though it's more for the quality of the ingredients than for his cooking technique, which she considers rather homestyle.

"I have to ask, don't you have anything else to eat here besides beef and seafood?" Bernice asks, curious.

"No, but there are chickens outside—pure, free-range ones. They eat grain in winter and bugs in summer, without being fed anything else. There's also some flying dragon meat, which is a second-class protected species in our country, and a wild boar in the freezer, but I don't know how to cook those." Jiang Hai replies thoughtfully. He's grown accustomed to eating beef and seafood.

Back in China, pork was the staple for most people, and Jiang Hai had hoped to eat it when he first arrived in the U.S. But pork is difficult to find here, and the wild boars they hunted have a strong earthy smell, making them almost inedible. Feilong was fresh when cooked during Fuyuan's visit, but controlling the heat was tricky.