Chapter 41: Seeing People Makes the Shit-Hook Itch!

“Uncle Lin, you’ve timed this perfectly. I was just planning to change the menu tomorrow. I won't be selling noodles for lunch and dinner; instead, I'll be selling stir-fries and braised dishes,” Zhou Yan said with a smile. “I have two braised dishes: braised pork ribs and beef with dried bamboo shoots. For stir-fry, there's the spicy minced beef, and then there's the Agastache Cruciate Carp. The Qiaojiao Beef can be served as either a soup or a dish. That makes four dishes and one soup. If there aren't too many people, it should be enough.”

The three types of noodle toppings and sauces tasted excellent and could easily stand alone as main dishes. The Qiaojiao Beef was also delicious. Lin Zhiqiang pondered for a moment and asked, “Xiao Zhou, is this Agastache Cruciate Carp something you just learned? How is the flavor?”

“Don't you worry about that. As long as you guys are used to the taste of Agastache, I guarantee you'll be satisfied with the fish,” Zhou Yan said with full confidence.

“Alright, I trust you. There are seven of us, so we'll just order these five dishes,” Lin Zhiqiang said with a smile. “I'll pick up the two kids after work tomorrow and come over for dinner.”

“Okay, I'll get the ingredients ready for you tomorrow,” Zhou Yan nodded, watching Lin Zhiqiang leave with a smile on his face.

The menu hadn't even officially changed, yet he had already secured his first customer. Uncle Lin really was like a relative to him.

Returning to the shop, Zhou Yan dug out a long wooden board ten centimeters wide. He went to the security department next door to borrow some tools, then returned to saw the long board into twenty-centimeter wooden plaques. He drilled holes in them, attached strings, and wrote the names and prices of the dishes on each one.

He tore off the old menu and nailed a row of nails to the wall. He hung the three noodle signs together and arranged the other dishes in a row.

When it came to writing the prices, Zhou Yan deliberated for quite a while.

The beef with dried bamboo shoots and the spicy minced beef were priced at 1 yuan. However, using only 150 grams of meat for the braised pork ribs seemed a bit stingy for a pure meat dish, whereas the dried bamboo shoots made up more than half of the beef dish.

In the end, he decided to increase the portion of ribs to 250 grams per serving, which raised the price of the braised pork ribs to 1.6 yuan, with the cost accounting for 1.1 yuan.

Looking at this pricing, Zhou Yan couldn't help but sigh; it was far too generous.

This was the limitation of the era. If these delicious braised pork ribs were in the future, he would dare to sell them at double or even quadruple the cost—expensive, but high quality.

Suji was an important economic hub in Jiazhou. The Jiazhou Textile Mill was a leading enterprise in the southern Sichuan silk industry, generating over ten million USD in foreign exchange annually. It was highly profitable, expanding rapidly, and had many workers with high wages.

Many workers even commuted from Jiazhou to work there every day.

In an ordinary small town, it would have been impossible to open a Sichuan restaurant at a time like this. Peasants didn't have money in their pockets to spend sixty cents on a bowl of noodles.

The Agastache Cruciate Carp was 2 yuan per serving, while the Qiaojiao Beef would still be sold at 0.6 yuan per serving.

He hung the signs on the wall, the red ink looking striking and beautiful.

The fixed menu was replaced with wooden plaques, which was Zhou Yan's preparation for tomorrow's new menu launch.

To reduce waste and ensure that all prepared ingredients could be cleared daily, he would control the quantity of ingredients purchased in the early stages.

If a dish ran out, he would simply remove the sign, entering the "sold out" phase, allowing customers to order the remaining dishes. This made ordering easier for customers and avoided the hassle of constant back-and-forth confirmation between the front desk and the kitchen.

Without a refrigerator, this was the best way to ensure ingredient freshness. Once business stabilized and daily consumption reached a steady level, he would gradually increase the quantities until he reached an equilibrium.

Ingredient waste directly affected the restaurant's profit, and Zhou Yan had no intention of eating the leftovers himself just to avoid waste; that would be unprofessional.

“Xiao Zhou, what are you clattering around with?” Luo Weidong, the head of the security department, poked his head in from the doorway and asked with a smile.

“Chief Luo, I'm changing the menu. I'm planning to start selling braised and stir-fried dishes tomorrow,” Zhou Yan replied with a smile as he packed up his tools.

“Launching new dishes, huh?” Luo Weidong walked in, looking at the wooden plaques on the wall. He smiled and said, “The variety isn't huge, but you're being quite cautious this time.”

The bowl of Qiaojiao Beef Zhou Yan had gifted him had helped close the gap with the security department, and Luo Weidong had also tried the noodles once and found the taste quite good.

However, when Zhou Yan's restaurant first opened, Luo Weidong had also come once, and the braised dishes back then were... difficult to describe. Out of dozens of dishes on the menu, no one had ever praised one.

But this time, he seemed to have learned his lesson, turning the toppings into braised dishes and the sauces into stir-fries, prioritizing stability.

As for the price, it wasn't cheap. The canteen's braised beef was 80 cents per serving with a coupon, which was 20 cents cheaper than Zhou Yan's shop.

Last time, he had eaten the beef and bamboo shoot noodles; the taste was undeniable and indeed better than the canteen's, so the extra 20 cents was acceptable.

“I'll take these tools back. Next time I come, I'll try your fish,” Luo Weidong said, taking the tools from Zhou Yan.

“Thank you, Chief Luo,” Zhou Yan said with a smile and saw him out.

After sweeping the floor, Zhou Yan went out to find a reliable fishmonger and arranged for twenty crucian carp to be delivered to the restaurant tomorrow at noon.

He requested 400-gram "plate" crucian carp—good quality farmed fish. This size was perfect for making Agastache Cruciate Carp.

Zhou Yan also wrote an announcement and posted it on the wooden board: starting tomorrow, Zhou Erwa's Restaurant will only serve noodles in the morning.

By the time all the preparations were finished, the sun was already setting.

Zhou Yan lay on a lounge chair by the door to rest. Since the textile mill wasn't working today, there were no stalls at the entrance, leaving it empty.

Only the newly moved-in stall across the way was active, with Zhou Liangliang and his wife busy wiping down tables and chairs.

A smirk played on Zhou Yan's lips. This guy moved fast; he came to scout yesterday and moved his stall in today.

Zhou Liangliang also spotted Zhou Yan sitting in front of the restaurant and said with a beaming smile, “Zhou Yan, we're moving our stall over here. We're brothers, you won't mind, right?”

“Mind what? This is the textile mill's land. If you want to set up, set up. It's not like I can stop you,” Zhou Yan laughed.

He certainly wasn't the type to have a "green tea" brother like that.

Zhou Yan glanced at the sign hanging on the stall: *Soup Pot + Noodles*. This guy wanted to have his cake and eat it too; he was trying to squeeze him for business.

However, the more he did this, the less Zhou Yan believed in him. This guy couldn't even get a taste of soup at Zhou Jie or Zhou Hai's stalls, and he thought moving to the textile mill entrance would allow him to crush Zhou Yan?

Furthermore, he hadn't been seen selling noodles before; he likely added them on a whim after seeing how well Zhou Yan's noodle business was doing.

This was within Zhou Yan's expectations. Even if it wasn't Zhou Liangliang, it would have been Zhou Mingming or Zhou Tiantian. When it comes to street vending, it's always like this.

After enjoying the breeze for a while, Zhou Yan went inside to cook dinner.

“I don't see Zhou Yan looking nervous at all. Do you really think selling soup pots here will be better than at the pier?” Wu Guihua, Zhou Liangliang's wife, whispered.

“Don't worry. Zhou Yan sells a bowl for sixty cents. We'll sell the same soup and noodles for fifty cents. We'll be ten cents cheaper, so business will definitely be good!” Zhou Liangliang said with full confidence.

He had finished his preparations today, and the noodle factory had been contacted; they would deliver the noodles to him tomorrow morning.

For the first day, he wasn't asking for much—just thirty catties of water noodles, enough for a hundred bowls.

...

At dawn the next day, Comrade Xiao Zhou rode out on his heavy-duty bicycle to buy groceries.

Today, he would only prepare eighty servings of noodles, toppings, and sauces. If they didn't sell out in the morning, the leftovers would be their staff meal.

He ordered an extra three catties each of beef brisket and beef neck, enough for ten servings of beef with dried bamboo shoots and spicy minced beef.

He also ordered an extra four catties of ribs, enough for eight servings.

Braised pork ribs were delicious, but most people preferred the fragrant, oily taste of twice-cooked pork. Bones were just extra weight, and the price was high, making it less economical.

On the first day, he was being conservative; selling everything he prepared would be considered a success.

Regardless, he had a hundred servings of Qiaojiao Beef as a safety net, ensuring customers would always have something to order.

Auntie Zhao had no objections to the new menu and was very supportive of Zhou Yan's plan.

However, as she sat on the back of the bicycle arriving at the restaurant and saw the couple, Zhou Liangliang and Wu Guihua, busy simmering bone broth across the street, her brow furrowed. “When did they move in? They're like vultures, always hovering where the action is! Seeing someone jump off a cliff makes them want to spread their wings! Aren't they afraid of tripping?”