I Am Tired Of Being A Hero Chapter 11: Making soymilk

Ravi's days were divided into two. Work and rest. He loved working during the dayti so all he could do in the evening was to relax with a jar of wine, eat and watch so movies or read a book, or go to the workshop and paint.

It was morning, it was still working ti. Ravi stood up from where he was lying with a faint smile on his face. A gas grill for a hundred dollars, that deal was still bringing a lot of joy in his heart.

He headed to the backyard, in the patio was a large basin filled with soaked soybeans, he had bought so soybeans from the farm market a while ago. If you check the cost of buying soymilk and Beancurd, it was more economical to make it yourself, the only thing that would be used up is his ti and he had those in spades.

Sieving out the water and pouring it outside, he carried the soybeans back to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard where he kept his smacks and poured so fried lon seeds on a plate and helped himself to so.

The good thing about buying from the farm market that was held twice a month is that everything was extrely high quality. Ravi poured the soybeans into the grinder, the soy milk that was ground out was very white and smooth, and the kitchen was filled with the pleasant scent of soybeans.

When the basin of beans had beco all creamy soy milk, Ravi took out the soybean dregs and placed them in a small bag. He would scatter these dregs on his farm.

He divided the soy milk into two. For the first mixture, he strained it with a cheesecloth before he poured the strained liquid into a pot and began to heat it over dium heat, bringing it to a gentle boil. He reduced the heat and watched it simr for eighteen minutes, adding a little vanilla extract as a sweetener. When the soy milk was ready, he shifted it to the side to cool down before his gaze focused on the second one.

This was the first ti he would be making bean curds. He reached for his phone and watched the video again so that he could be sure. There was a food content creator that Ravi followed earnestly, @Daily from scratch and she was the queen of such recipes.

Just like this bean curd recipe that had more than 3 million views and twenty thousand comnts. He watched everything carefully, noting them again so that he could be very sure.

He poured the second half of the soymilk into another pot and turned on the stove. It was almost the sa thod as the soy milk, he started with a strong fla before reducing it so that the milk could slowly simr but this ti, he added brine before using a wooden spine to compact it.

According to @dailyfromscratch, if you pressed too hard, the bean curd would be too dry but it would not get that tofu shape if you pressed too softly. Finding the balance was important, after a few more minutes, the bean curd began to solidify.

Soon, it was ready, the shape was a bit weird but Ravi did not think that it was bad for a beginner. He took out his phone and took a few pictures, before posting it.

His account's entire page was filled with pictures of food and his product. Ravi had always wondered why he liked to post such pictures, especially as there was no response.

He then tried the bean curd, it turned out to be very good, with a soft and supple texture. Once he paired it with the sauce, it would elevate it even more, a smile played at his lips. Lunch would be very good today. Maybe next ti, he would try making fernted tofu.

The soy milk had cooled down and he tasted it, his head moving left and right in joy. It was so delicious, smooth, and creamy.

He cleaned the surface and the grinder, before taking it outside to sundry. He then brought out the blender and placed it on the table, he had been waiting for this period, all week.

He took the basin, his eyes narrowing as he concentrated a bit. The basin shimred with a soft glow as its structure transford seamlessly. The once ordinary vessel morphed into an intricately woven basket, its surface now adorned with a lattice of fine patterns. Where were the scissors? Ravi did not know where he kept it. He opened the cupboard and searched for a while before giving up. His attention turned to the knife and he touched it, it reshaped into a sleek and efficient pair of shears, its edges razor sharp.

He humd and he tied the apron a little bit tighter.

Spring was usually the ti for strawberry picking but Ravi did not know whether it was the bodies of the Sowers he had killed that had mutated his farm.

The Sowers were one of the creatures from the nest that was found in Harlan. They were floating, translucent adorned with bioluminescent tentacles. Their feeding tentacles can extract nutrients directly from plant roots, posing a threat to terrestrial crops.

When Ravi had first moved here, he saw them in bits, one this week, three next week. He had not cared for the first few weeks but as he started nding the farm, their destruction was all too evident and that had provoked his ire. He had not only killed the Nesting remnants deep in the ground of his own ho, he had gone on a rampage throughout Harlan.

He rubbed his forehead, he might have been a tad bloodthirsty those days, that was his dark past that he refused to recall.

The Nestland Society, a crazy society even by Ravi's standard, had published a lot of theories and research stating that humanity surviving with the Nesting Monsters has a lot of benefits.

Humans were like that, they had sympathy for everything other than their own.

Ravi overlooked his strawberry bushes that were filled with red, luscious fruits in February and he sighed. They might be crazy but they do have a point.