Whose farming family has the male protagonist giving three piglets as a gift at the beginning?

Seeing that he was speechless, Su Ziling glanced at him and nodded, as if to say, "I knew you were a liar."

Seeing this, Twenty simply stopped explaining.

The two of them cut together, and their speed was surprisingly fast. Su Ziling would often cut one stick, and twenty sticks would be cut into two. Seeing that he was fast and there were only a few sticks left, Su Ziling would stop cutting.

"You can cut the rest by yourself. I'll go cook."

"Okay." Twenty nodded without even thinking about it. In his opinion, this was similar to practicing swordsmanship.

Su Ziling picked two big ones, took them to the stove, cut them into slices, blanched them in water, and then soaked them in cold water.

I grabbed two bowls, one of cold salad and one of fried bacon.

The weather is getting hot, and it's time for cold dishes again. Looking at the purslane that Su Zizhong and the others brought back, she took out some to blanch and make a cold dish, as well as some fresh watercress.

This kind of freshly dug ones taste the best, so naturally you have to mix a bowl of it.

Su Zizhong and his friends closed the stall early today, but there were still two pieces of bean powder left. They would not taste good if left until tomorrow, so she cut them into small pieces, added some oil and slowly fried them until both sides were golden brown, and finally sprinkled some of the chili powder she had prepared.

There was a lot of oil in the pot, so she poured a ladle of water into it, threw in a handful of shepherd's purse, and simply adjusted the seasoning. Then a pot of shepherd's purse soup was ready.

The dishes were ready, but Grandpa Su and the others had not returned yet. She warmed the hot dishes in the pot, took a few soapberries and went to the well to wash her hands.

He only went out to cut some bamboo leaves when the oil ran out.

The twenty bamboo shoots had also been cut. Su Ziling took a jar, disinfected it with wine, and started to put the bamboo shoots into it.

The pickled bamboo shoots she made did not require any addition of anything. After cutting them, they could be put directly into the jar. When putting them in, make sure to press them tightly. Finally, put a handful of fresh bamboo leaves on the top.

Bamboo shoots with bamboo leaves can be stored for a longer time. If they are not touched with oil, they can be stored for two years without any problem.

Finally, put on the lid and add water to seal the jar.

Grandma Su was stunned, "Is this how you pickle sour bamboo shoots?"

Su Ziling nodded, "Yes."

"Although I have never pickled it, I have heard from others that they seem to add water or salt."

Seeing Grandma Su's look of "I have never pickled it before, don't lie to me".

Su Ziling burst out laughing, "What you said is all right, but my pickling method is also feasible, grandma, just wait and eat."

Grandma Su nodded and said nothing more. "By the way, I put the dried bean paste you squeezed into a jar after drying it. I forgot to tell you."

Su Ziling was so busy every day that he almost forgot about this matter.

"Dry it? I forgot about it. I'll cut one out and fry it tomorrow to try."

The sky gradually darkened, and Su's mother and the others walked into the yard in the last ray of light.

As soon as she entered the yard, Grandma Su started nagging, "Why are you back so late? If you can't finish plowing, just go tomorrow. We can't even see the road anymore."

Su Ziling went to lock up the cow and fed it salt water and added some food.

"There's just a little bit left, so I just cleaned it up all at once. And looking at the weather, I'm afraid it's going to rain soon, and I haven't finished digging the furrows yet..."

As he said this, Mr. Su sighed heavily.

"If you can't finish the beating, then don't finish it. There's no way this job can be finished. Hurry up and wash your hands and eat." said Grandma Su.

The smooth, glutinous and fragrant brown rice, bacon and shepherd's purse porridge, paired with crispy cold bamboo shoots and watercress, is a very enjoyable meal.

Just as Grandma Su said, it rained that night. Su Ziling slept soundly and only felt the sudden drop in temperature when he woke up the next day.

As soon as the door opened, it started to rain heavily outside.

She came to the kitchen, where Grandma Su and Grandpa Su were lighting a fire. On the fire were a kettle and a pot, with bubbles bubbling out of the pot.

Su Ziling's nose twitched. "Grandma, what are you cooking? Pheasant?"

Grandma Su heard the sound and turned to look at the door. "Are you up? Why don't you sleep a little longer since it's raining?"

"When the rain stops, we'll start planting. Your mother said to stew a pheasant. It just so happens that we still have the incense you picked, so we can stew it together. Go get the washbasin. There's hot water here. Wash your face and get ready to eat."

"Oh, good! The rain came just in time. I was wondering if the ginger and taro would die from the sun, and now it's raining."

Grandma Su smiled and said, "What does this mean? God cares about people and doesn't want you to water the plants."

"That's right. As the saying goes, it's better for God to rain than for my parents to worry about me. Now I can have a good rest." Su Ziling yawned, rubbed his eyes, and instead of getting the basin, he wandered to the stove. "Mother, what did you do?"

"I put a few corn tortillas on it, added a little oil, and fried it a little longer. The edges are all crispy."

Seeing her looking at it eagerly, Su's mother took the yellowest piece and gave it to her, "Here, be careful of the heat."

"Hehe." Su Ziling took the pancake and took a bite impatiently. It was so hot that she kept breathing heavily.

Mother Su glanced at her with a smile, "What's wrong? Is it not cooked yet?"

"It's cooked, hot!" Su Ziling exhaled a few times, and when it didn't feel so hot anymore, he dared to chew it.

"If it's cooked, why did you fry it again?"

Su Ziling: "..."

Sometimes she really suspected that her mother was the one who traveled through time.

Father Su came in from outside, shook his head and shook the water off his hair.

"Oh, you're eating without even washing your face?"

Su Ziling was stunned for a moment, and glanced at everyone, only to see Father Su say again: "Stop looking, I'm talking about you, you were the last one to get up this morning."

Su Ziling: "..."

She stuffed the last bite of the biscuit into her mouth and murmured, "Dad, how do you know I didn't wash my face? Could it be that I washed it when you were not around?"

Father Su pointed to the corner of his eye and asked teasingly, "Oh, have you washed it?"

Seeing her nod, he continued, "You haven't washed your face clean, and there's eye mucus hanging in the corner of your eye."

Su Ziling: "..."

She shouldn't talk too much. Shouldn't she just wash her face?

Seeing that she was unhappy, Su's mother glared at Su's father and said, "Pull out the table. What do you think? Why do you always tease her?"

After saying this, Father Su looked at Su Ziling again, "Qing'er, how about the cake? Do you want some more sugar?"

"No need, the sweetness is just right, and my mother's cooking skills are good. It's crispy and delicious. You can even go out and set up a stall."

These few words made Su's mother laugh so hard that she couldn't stop smiling.

But what Su Ziling said was true. The cornmeal was ground with a water mill and was very fine. They sifted it again after they came back. When Su's mother kneaded the dough, she added half sugar and half salt.

I just thought that if you want something sweet, you can eat sweet; if you want something salty, you can eat salty.

The pancake is very thin and fried with tea oil. The heat is well controlled. The golden corn pancake is fried until both sides are golden brown, especially the edges. It tastes crispy and particularly fragrant.