Chapter 380 - 197: Good Work, Deserves a Reward

Chapter 380: Chapter 197: Good Work, Deserves a Reward

Comrade Zhou pulled the light on. In the kitchen, the enamel basin filled with lard cracklings had tumbled to the floor. Half the contents were scattered across the ground, having rolled every which way.

It was a real mess.

"These rats are getting audacious! To think they could knock such a heavy enamel basin onto the floor!" Zhou Yan fumed. That basin held at least three or four pounds of lard cracklings, a key ingredient for the stir-fried cabbage.

He’d planned to render more lard next week. ’Well, that’s just great,’ he thought. Now he had to go buy pork fat tomorrow to render more oil, or the Stir-fried Cabbage with Cracklings would be off the menu.

As the only stir-fried vegetable on the menu, the Cabbage with Cracklings sold extremely well thanks to its affordable price.

"What do we do with these cracklings?" Comrade Zhou asked, looking at Zhou Yan.

"Sweep them up. We’ll take them to Grandma’s tomorrow to feed her chickens and geese," Zhou Yan said with some resignation. "We certainly can’t serve these to customers now."

"What a waste," Comrade Zhou said, feeling the loss as well. Still, he went to grab a broom and started sweeping.

Zhou Yan hurried over to the small stove to check on the two pots of master stock. The lids were on tight, so the stock was safe for the moment.

But he wasn’t fully convinced. He found two stone slabs and placed them on top of the lids, making sure the master stock was secure.

Losing the lard cracklings was one thing; he could always render a new pot of lard to make more.

His two pots of old master stock, however, were a different story. If the stock was ruined, cultivating a new batch wasn’t something that could be done overnight.

These two pots of old master stock were incredibly precious.

Zhou Yan then checked the shelves. Five or six potatoes had been gnawed, each one abandoned after just a few bites.

The cooking oil and lard were covered and seemed fine. He placed heavy objects on top of their lids just to be safe.

A rat problem in the kitchen was nothing new. Never mind a small kitchen in a rural town—even restaurants in modern shopping malls could hardly avoid them.

They didn’t stockpile many ingredients, and the oil and lard cracklings were always kept well-covered, so the situation hadn’t been too severe before. ℯℯ𝑙.

He just hadn’t expected them to be so bold tonight as to knock over the cracklings. It was a significant loss.

"Should we get a cat?" Comrade Zhou asked Zhou Yan. "If there’s a cat around, the rats won’t even dare to come near, they can smell them. I heard the state-run restaurants all keep one."

"We can’t get a cat." Zhou Yan shook his head, his tone firm. "We’re running a restaurant. It isn’t appropriate to keep a cat in the kitchen."

"You think rats are any cleaner than a cat?" Zhou Miao countered. "Look at what they did to these potatoes. It’s such a waste. The whole reason your grandma keeps a cat is to deal with rats."

"Home is different. You can keep any animal you want at home," Zhou Yan said with a chuckle. "But with a restaurant, you can get shut down for the slightest hygiene violation. One complaint is all it takes. We can’t be sloppy about this."

"Alright, forget it then." Zhou Miao didn’t get it, but the moment she heard they could be shut down, she dropped the subject.

Zhou Yan aimed his flashlight at the window. Every night, they boarded it up, but a hole had been gnawed in one corner. The wood shavings were fresh; the rats had definitely gotten in through there.

Higher up, five or six holes left for ventilation and smoke had also become expressways for the rats.

Inside the kitchen, the head-high stack of firewood behind the stove was a perfect place for rats to build a nest.

The split Chestnut Wood was stacked in a way that created countless gaps of all sizes. When a rat darted in, it vanished like smoke, making any attempt to catch it futile.

Zhou Yan was certain rats were hiding in there.

"Tomorrow, I’ll go to the co-op and buy some wire mesh to seal up the windows and holes. That’ll keep the ventilation but stop more rats from getting in," Zhou Yan said, his eyes landing on the firewood pile. "Then I’ll go ’borrow’ Grandma’s tabby cat for a night to clear out the rats we already have in the kitchen. That should keep us clear for a while."

A restaurant kitchen was a sensitive place; using rat poison was completely out of the question, especially with little Zhou Momo in the house.

In modern times, kitchens were protected from rats using physical barriers like rat guards.

Their kitchen, being a concrete structure, was a bit better off. They just needed to seal any visible holes.

But the rats already inside the kitchen had to be dealt with, or they would pose too great a health hazard.

Grandma’s tabby cat, an expert mouser, was the perfect solution.

Borrowing the cat for a night and sending it back the next morning was a "pest control operation"—completely different from permanently keeping a cat in the restaurant.

This sort of arrangement was fairly common in the countryside.

Especially for families in the village without their own cat. If they had a serious rat problem, or found rats in their granary, they would show up with a fish as payment to "hire" the tabby for a night of mousing.

Grandma’s tabby wasn’t old, but its professional skills were already top-notch. It had an excellent reputation in Zhou Village.

The cat caught rats but didn’t care to eat them. It was, however, quite enthusiastic about the business of trading rats for fish.

"Sounds like a plan! We’ll patch up the holes tomorrow," Comrade Zhou said, nodding in agreement with Zhou Yan’s suggestion.

Zhou Yan packed all the potatoes from the shelf into a back-basket and carried them up to his second-floor room for safekeeping.

His room was small and spartan, leaving no place for a rat to hide. If one dared show up, he’d make sure it was a one-way trip.

"You should get some sleep too, Old Man," Zhou Yan said to Comrade Zhou. "We’ll let them be for tonight." He then closed his door and went to bed.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out.

First thing the next morning, Zhou Yan went to the head of the bridge and ordered a slab of pork fat from Zhang the Third. He’d render it in the afternoon, which meant the Stir-fried Cabbage with Cracklings would be back on the menu by evening.

Then he took the spilled cracklings from the day before to his grandmother.

"Such good cracklings, what a waste to give them to the chickens," his grandmother said, shaking her head. Her gaze fell on the tabby cat sleeping soundly on its back, belly-up, on a shelf near the main room’s doorway. She chuckled. "If you need a mouser, just take him with you. He’ll have your restaurant cleared of rats in a single night."