Practice makes perfect.
He Zhiwei felt that making stuffed tofu should be quite simple.
A few more tries and she would slowly get the hang of it.
However, silken tofu is delicate, and paying insufficient attention to the force used or to the amount of filling could easily burst or puncture it, and then it would fall apart.
Sigh!
After four consecutive attempts at making the tofu, all ending in failure, He Zhiwei sighed in quiet frustration.
She should stop showing off her non-existent skills.
Not only did she not help, but she also wasted ingredients.
"I've crushed the tofu."
Zhiyun was frying pork loin when He Zhiwei approached her and whispered.
She had her pride and didn't want Zhou Liao to hear.
Zhou Liao was slicing fish, a good two or three meters away from them, not diverting his attention to their side.
"It's fine, crushed tofu absorbs flavors better, and it's more delicious with rice. Leave it be, I'll do the stuffing later,"
