12. Yam Peach

After her friend’s birthday passed, it was soon time to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday.

Pan Yueyi felt a little troubled, wondering what to give her grandmother as a birthday gift.

She was just a student and couldn’t afford anything too expensive. But gifts were about the thought, and she believed that even if she only handwrote a card, her grandmother would still light up with joy upon seeing it.

Yet Pan Yueyi wanted to add a special touch, something clever to make her grandmother even happier, rather than just a perfunctory gesture.

Something to wear... something to use... something to eat?

Suddenly, she had an idea.

Although her grandmother preferred simple, light dishes, she loved sweet treats—this Pan Yueyi knew well.

So why not bring her grandmother yam peaches to try? Peaches—longevity peaches—had a lovely meaning. Thinking this way, it was simply perfect.

To ensure the plan went smoothly, Pan Yueyi went to the Nanlai Restaurant several days in advance, only to find that the yam peaches had been removed from the menu. She covered her head helplessly.

“Why is the yam peach gone? Did they stop selling it?”

After being told they didn’t have yam that day, Pan Yueyi feared this was a polite excuse for discontinuing the dish, so she quickly said, “Then can I pre-order some to be made?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Nan Tu jotted down the date on a memo, afraid she might forget. “Do you like yam peaches that much?”

“No, it’s not that—I want to give them to my grandmother...” Pan Yueyi realized her words might be misunderstood as soon as she said them and hurriedly clarified, “No, no! I love them too. I mean, precisely because I love them, I want my grandmother to have some on her birthday.”

Birthday... a faint smile involuntarily appeared on Nan Tu’s lips, then quickly disappeared. She was already quite familiar with Pan Yueyi, knowing she had brought many customers to the restaurant—quite the adept promoter.

“Don’t worry, just come to pick them up that day. But once you take the yam peaches home, it’s best not to keep them too long; eat them as soon as possible.”

“Okay, okay!”

———

On her grandmother’s birthday, Pan Yueyi specially asked her father, who had come to pick her up from school, to drive past the Nanlai Restaurant.

“Our hotel isn’t even nearby, right?”

“I’m just picking something up. Hey, I won’t show you,” Pan Yueyi said mysteriously, hiding the boxed package behind her back.

They waited briefly in the hotel private room before her mother arrived with her grandparents.

Light spilled over the flower-adorned table, at the center sat a delicate birthday cake, surrounded by carefully chosen dishes full of auspicious meanings. Pan Yueyi had secretly seen the menu: “Soup of Abundant Treasures,” “Peace Through the Four Seasons,” “Fortune and Prosperity Fried Rice.” Now the mystery was revealed—corn, radish, and pork rib soup, stir-fried green beans, and assorted fried rice.

After singing the birthday song and cutting the cake, Pan Yueyi eagerly stood up and presented her birthday gift to her grandmother.

Her grandmother unwrapped the package and saw two rows of eight small, adorable peach-shaped treats, her expression drifting with a trace of nostalgia.

“Grandma, these are called...” Pan Yueyi was about to introduce the dessert’s name, but her grandparents both exclaimed at once, “Yam peaches!”

Pan Yueyi was surprised. “You know them? I thought this dessert wasn’t that famous. The first time I saw the name, I thought it was simply mashed yam with peach slices in syrup.”

“How could we not know?” Her grandmother’s face softened with remembrance. “There used to be an old restaurant around here whose owner was a master chef. He made these yam peaches, but business was always so busy, and they were tricky to make. If customers asked, he wouldn’t make them!

Only once a year, on his little granddaughter’s birthday, would every customer be served a yam peach for free. Just that one day a year. Greedy customers remembered his granddaughter’s birthday better than their own!”

As she spoke, her grandmother carefully divided the yam peaches among everyone: “Yueyue gave these to me, you all try some. They’re fried first, then steamed. If left too long, the crust softens and they don’t taste good.”

“Fried?” Pan Yueyi’s mouth formed an ‘o.’ She had eaten yam peaches not long ago but never noticed they were fried. They didn’t feel oily at all—how could they be fried?

Her grandfather chimed in, “Of course they’re fried. The yam mash is mixed with glutinous rice flour to hold its shape, but that’s not enough. If you add more glutinous rice, it wouldn’t be yam peaches, it’d be glutinous rice peaches. To have enough yam, you have to make sure it doesn’t fall apart.”

“The secret lies in frying: you don’t just toss them into hot oil. If you do, they won’t hold their shape and the heat is hard to control. Instead, you place them on a slotted spoon and ladle the hot oil over them repeatedly, letting a soft crust form. Only then can you steam them and drizzle with sweet osmanthus syrup.”

“Wow.” Pan Yueyi couldn’t help but applaud softly. So impressive—she thought it was just a delicious dessert, never imagined the painstaking process behind it.

Her grandmother urged everyone, “Try them quickly! Hey, what’s this bright red sauce? We used to only drizzle them with osmanthus syrup.”

Of the eight yam peaches, half were coated with the transparent honeyed osmanthus syrup dotted with yellow flowers. The other half were bathed in a glossy crimson cherry sauce, flowing like shimmering silk over the plump peaches, dressing each in a splendid red gown.

Pan Yueyi answered eagerly, “That’s cherry sauce. Probably a modern twist—the owner improved the recipe because many young people don’t like the taste of osmanthus anymore.”

Her grandfather, adhering to tradition, chose the ones with osmanthus syrup and snorted, “That’s because they’ve never tasted good osmanthus syrup!”

He picked up a small spoon, reluctant to break the perfect peach shape, but as soon as he tasted it, the rich fragrance of osmanthus flooded his nostrils. Though he had only taken one bite, it felt as if he were immersed in a shower of golden osmanthus blossoms, the whole tree blooming with fragrance.

After chewing a little, the subtle aroma of yam and glutinous rice mingled with the sweetness of honey, and the osmanthus scent softened, no longer overpowering but gently weaving through the senses, so beautiful that he closed his eyes and nodded in approval.

Pan Yueyi’s mother had chosen the cherry sauce version. Remembering her father’s description of the frying process, she carefully pierced the peach and confirmed there was a very thin crisp crust. Breaking this barrier, the yam mash revealed its soft, glutinous nature.

The cherry sauce shimmered seductively, tinting the pure white peach a delicate pink, as if a face shy yet full of anticipation. The tart-sweet cherry sauce combined with the fine, smooth yam mash created an unprecedentedly exquisite flavor.

“Why do these peaches have pits?” Pan Yueyi’s mother suddenly exclaimed.

Before anyone could answer, she figured it out herself and smiled, “Oh, the pits are made of jujube paste.”

“By the way, Mom, I wanted to ask—how come I never had these yam peaches before? Such a delicate dessert, I would definitely remember if I had.”

Her grandmother gave a look that said it was just a matter of missed luck: “When that little granddaughter was born, you were already in university. You’ve been away for so many years; where could you have eaten them?” As for the daughter’s family moving back a few years ago, the Nanlai Restaurant had already... well, better not mention it.

Speaking of which, these yam peaches were about eighty percent similar to the ones they had eaten many years ago.

“Yueyue, where did you get these?” her grandmother pressed. Although the original Nanlai Restaurant had closed, a small eatery making yam peaches very similar to the old ones would still bring back memories through food, wouldn’t it?

So many years had passed in the blink of an eye.

“It’s a small restaurant called Nanlai Restaurant. Grandpa, grandma, you should go there often. It’s close to—”

Nanlai Restaurant! The grandparents exchanged a startled look. That was impossible. Old Nan wasn’t...

“Who’s the owner of this Nanlai Restaurant you mentioned?” her grandfather quickly asked.

Pan Yueyi instinctively defended Nan Tu: “The owner is very young and beautiful! She looks like a recent college graduate, but her cooking is amazing. The classmates I brought all said she cooks better than chefs who have been running restaurants for over a decade.”

Her grandparents each seized on the key points: “Beautiful... a girl?” “Just graduated from college... that fits the age.”

Could it be... Old Nan’s granddaughter?!

Pan Yueyi’s mother also realized something: “No wonder the name Nanlai Restaurant sounded familiar. There was one near our old neighborhood when we were kids, but it was demolished or something. Could it be run by the same family?”

Pan Yueyi recalled she had once taken a photo of the restaurant’s sign for her classmates and quickly showed it to her grandparents.

Although the location was different and the decor had changed, they immediately recognized the familiar sign—it was indeed the old Nanlai Restaurant!

———

After the meal, when the elderly couple returned home, they opened the old neighborhood chat group and spoke firmly into their phone’s microphone: “Old Nan’s granddaughter Nan Tu has come back to open a restaurant! It’s called Nanlai Restaurant and is located... Everyone who grew up watching her, if you have time, go support her!”

Some former neighbors had moved away after demolition, some had joined their children elsewhere, and only a few, like Pan Yueyi’s grandparents, still lived in the old district. After years of scattering, contact was sparse. The last message in the chat had been two weeks ago.

But soon after this message, new voice notes began to pop up one after another.

“Really? Didn’t little Nan Tu go to college? Is it really her restaurant and not just a namesake?”

Pan Yueyi’s grandmother confirmed, “I asked my daughter to check at the restaurant just now. It’s definitely Nan Tu!”

“She should have finished college by now, but Old Nan cared for her. Didn’t he plan to have her take over the restaurant?”

“What’s the use of all that now? The restaurant is open. Anyone want to go support her? We missed so many delicious things when Nanlai Restaurant was gone. What’s life for, if not to enjoy good food? Nan Tu’s skills were already nearly as good as Old Nan’s, so it won’t be worse now.”

One aunt expressed concern, “I want to go too. But shouldn’t we have a reason? Suddenly, a bunch of us showing up might be awkward.”

A man’s loud voice replied, “What reason do we need? People need to eat, it’s only natural!”

After he spoke, a strange voice echoed, “Eat, eat, it’s only natural!”

Everyone knew without looking at the name and avatar that it was Grandpa Qiao, who loved raising parrots.

“Let’s just go. But don’t nag Nan Tu too much about old times. She’s busy running the restaurant and doesn’t have time for all that.”

They chatted on about various matters and agreed that several neighbors who were free the next noon would visit Nanlai Restaurant together. The others said they would try to find time to go soon as well.