Chapter 870: Chapter 869: What to Eat Chapter 870: Chapter 869: What to Eat By the time Taifeng Building’s third batch of porridge was ready, the top-floor restaurant’s first batch of garlic bread had finally emerged from the oven.
It wasn’t that Rolan and his team were slow; rather, mixing and kneading the dough and then waiting for it to rise simply took time. Only when Taifeng’s third porridge batch was out did it just about ensure that every audience member had tasted the porridge, and as the first batch of bread was baked, half of the audience had already tried the garlic bread.
So, now the question was, just how many ovens had the production team prepared?
Chef Arno, who had been focusing on his own dish, only realized something was amiss when Rolan’s bread was baked.
“Didn’t I tell you to make a cake? What are you doing baking garlic bread?” Chef Arno was very dissatisfied.
“Making a cake takes too much time; bread is quicker,” mumbled the baker Rolan timidly, “I had already discussed this with the production crew beforehand.”
“Can bread compare with Jiang Feng’s porridge? You’re simply losing face for me; finish baking the bread and continue with the cake!” Chef Arno commanded while stirring the soup in the pot with a large spoon.
Rolan: …
“Go and carry two more boxes of flour over here,” Rolan said to minion number one.
“You carry a basket of eggs,” he then told minion number two.
Chef Arno’s concern was not unfounded; Rolan’s garlic bread indeed couldn’t compare with Jiang Feng’s various porridge dishes, and one could even say it was utterly unenticing, serving no purpose other than filling stomachs.
In fact, unless these chefs brought out their signature skills, few dishes could truly stand a chance against Jiang Feng’s porridge; after all, he was the Porridge King.
Porridge was also one of Jiang Feng’s specialties, quality-wise on par with any S-grade dish.
When the fifth batch of porridge was done, and concurrently Rolan’s second batch of bread came out, nearly four hours had passed since the competition began.
Not to mention the live audience, even the viewers in the livestream were beginning to feel bored, with viewership plummeting. Even the commentator was replaced, the previous one having run out of things to say and gone off to rest. The new commentator was not as talkative, making an already dull program even duller.
The director was getting anxious.
He knew it was inevitable for the competition to turn out this way; they had braced themselves for low viewership even before the competition started, but this level of ratings was simply unacceptable to their financial backers, especially when one such sponsor was sitting in the front row with his entire family.
Some members of the audience had already played on their phones until their batteries died and had to take out power banks, while others had visited the restroom no fewer than three times. If it weren’t for the anticipation of a meal in the evening, some audience members might have already left.
While some in the audience found it dull, others watched intently with rapt attention.
For instance, Jiang Weiguo, Jiang Weiming, and Wu Hanxue were deeply captivated.
To true connoisseurs, the competition was nothing short of spectacular.
Although Wu Hanxue’s expression remained stoic, his opinion of Jiang Feng had completely changed inwardly.
He never imagined that in just two short years, Jiang Feng’s culinary skills had advanced to such a level.
Even though Jiang Feng had so far only been making stock, it was enough for Wu Hanxue to glimpse his masterful culinary art.
His knifework, fire control, seasoning, all were precise; his exact management of ingredients, and his ability to multitask, attending to the porridge while also checking on the stockpot, impressed Wu Hanxue tremendously.
Jiang Weiming and Jiang Weiguo’s admiration was directed at someone completely different: the equally exquisite craftsmanship of Chef Arno’s rich soups captivated them.
There are many differences between Chinese and Western cuisines but also many shared features. Chinese cuisine has stocks that vary from several hours to over a dozen hours in preparation, while Western cuisine has rich soups that range from a few hours to several days.
Jiang Feng showed remarkable talent in this area right from the beginning, possibly because he was already adept at cooking porridge, which might share some underlying similarities, so Jiang Feng’s superb stock-making skills did not surprise the two old gentlemen too much.
They already had had their fair share of surprises.
But that didn’t mean the two Sirs weren’t surprised by Chef Arno’s exquisite thick soup skills.
After all, Chef Arno simply wasn’t that kind of style.
Making a rich stock required patience, carefulness, and meticulousness, which were all characteristics of Jiang Feng. Chef Arno’s style, on the other hand, was the complete opposite; he was rough, bold, and even aggressive. He had many delicate dishes, but those were primarily cooked through frying, grilling, and roasting. All of Chef Arno’s signature dishes were meat-based, without a trace of seafood, filled with chunks of beef, lamb, pork, and venison, brimming with a primal, wild flavor that matched his temperament and appearance; the dishes reflected the person.
“His thick soup is very skillful,” Jiang Weiming had been paying close attention to Chef Arno.
“Yes,” Jiang Weiguo nodded, “The method of cutting the ingredients, the order of placing them, it was all carefully planned, very meticulous, and patient.”
Very un-Chef Arno.
“But Third Brother, don’t you feel that the soup Master Sun is working on looks somewhat familiar?” Jiang Weiguo had been watching Sun Maochai and noticed something familiar about Sun Maochai’s preparation of the sea cucumber and abalone soup.
Jiang Weiming cast his gaze towards Sun Maochai, who was blatantly checking his cheat sheet, making sure he hadn’t picked the wrong ingredients for the next step.
After watching for a while, Jiang Weiming felt it looked familiar but couldn’t recall exactly what soup it was at the moment.
The two Sirs couldn’t really be blamed, after all, sea cucumber and abalone soup was a memory too distant for them. The last time they saw Jiang Huiqin make this soup, Jiang Weiguo was still a child.
A quintessential childhood memory.
While Sun Maochai and Chef Arno were still busy, Jiang Feng had started to have some downtime.
The stock was hardly likely to pose any problems; all he had to do was wait another two hours to stew the already prepared sea cucumber, and Jiang’s Sea Cucumber Soup would be set.
Jiang Feng flexed his hands, stretching his limbs.
It was about time, he was getting a bit hungry and it was time for lunch.
“Qiqi, are you hungry?” Jiang Feng turned his head to ask Wu Minqi, who had ceased cooking porridge and was taking a break.
Preparing the original materials for 25 buckets of porridge and also keeping an eye on the fire control, Wu Minqi’s workload for the past few hours was no less than any other chef present.
“A little, Fengfeng, are you thirsty? If you are, I’ll get some oranges to make orange juice,” Wu Minqi asked.
“I am a bit thirsty, get some extra ones. Do you still remember the ingredients for the Phoenix Egg? Let’s have that for lunch since it’s quick. Just stir-fry some greens on the side, after smelling chicken soup for so long, I really want something light,” Jiang Feng casually decided everyone’s lunch.
“Okay, Fengfeng, what vegetables do you want to eat? I remember you don’t like broccoli much, I saw some really fresh asparagus earlier, shall I grab some of that?” Wu Minqi nodded.
“Anything’s fine.”
Sun Maochai, still looking at his cheat sheet, seemed to be in a world of his own.
Sun Jikai, who was blatantly ignored despite sitting right beside Wu Minqi and had been force-fed a spoonful of dog food: ???
Am I not worthy of being asked what I want to eat?
I have preferences too!
“Right, Sun Jikai, what would you like to eat?” Jiang Feng finally asked Sun Jikai, who instantly perked up.
“I…”
“Never mind, just find something to eat later.” Jiang Feng turned back to watch over the stock.
Sun Jikai: ???
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