Chapter 139: Chapter 138 White Boiled Shrimp
Translator: 549690339
The soul of white cut chicken sauce is ginger juice, garlic, vinegar, and soy sauce, and now two of those are gone.
“Does he eat spicy food?” Jiang Feng asked.
“The customer only mentioned what he doesn’t eat,” replied Sun Guanyun.
Jiang Feng:…
Jiang Feng stared at the seasoning on the cooking station and began to contemplate.
Having a strong preference, add extra light soy sauce, make it spicy, add cumin, skip the ginger juice and add garlic paste, no vinegar and cilantro either—no matter how Jiang Feng pondered, it just didn’t feel right; it seemed more like a spicy sauce.
Were braised chicken, roasted chicken, flay chicken, stewed chicken, and smoked chicken not tasty? Why insist on white cut chicken?
“Ah, Dad, Uncle, you’re here! Oh, and who might this be?” Jiang Jiankang’s surprised shout scattered the few remaining thoughts Jiang Feng had.
“Just call him Uncle Sun; he’s here to guide Feng,” Jiang Weiguo said. “Go cut vegetables.”
“Okay!” Jiankang obediently went to cut vegetables.
After much hesitation, Jiang Feng finally began to work.
He started with a generous addition of light soy sauce and garlic paste, followed by three large slices of ginger, chili, cumin, the white parts of green onions, black pepper, white sugar, and sesame oil. Jiang Feng tasted the seasoning after adding each ingredient, and although the final taste wasn’t particularly good, it was edible.
“Done,” Jiang Feng quietly moved the dish in front of Sun Guanyun.
Sun Guanyun tasted it: “Barely acceptable.”
Just as Jiang Feng breathed a sigh of relief, Sun Guanyun continued, “Now there’s another customer who likes sour and doesn’t eat green onions, ginger, garlic or cilantro, and still has a strong preference for flavor.”
Jiang Feng:…
(The aforementioned seasonings are all made up by me; please don’t try them. I’m afraid they might poison you.)
In just one morning, Jiang Feng “met” all kinds of strange and peculiar customers.
Preferences for light flavors, not sweet.
Dislikes salt, craves spicy like life depends on it, loves cilantro, hates garlic.
Loves sweet, hates ginger and garlic, loves cilantro.
Dislikes sesame oil, loves strong flavors.
They all had one thing in common: they all insisted on eating white cut chicken!
Jiang Feng felt like he was even developing a phobia of white cut chicken.
For lunch, the three elderly gentlemen stayed in the restaurant, and Jiang Weiguo helped cook for about ten minutes until Wu Minqi arrived, then went upstairs to rest. The students peering into the restaurant were quite disappointed; Schrodinger’s dishes were no more, and some even called their roommates directly.
“Hello, Liuzi, Grandpa Jiang is not cooking anymore, he came out of the kitchen. Do you still want the sweet and sour pork loin? Hey boss, have you made the sweet and sour pork loin? If not, I don’t want it!”
Ji Yue:…
In the kitchen, there were still several dishes of sauce on the counter, which Wu Minqi noticed and asked, “What’s this for?”
“I’m practicing my seasoning; I’ll dispose of it in a bit,” Jiang Feng said.
“Your seasoning could use some improvement,” Wu Minqi nodded.
Jiang Feng:…
Unable to speak.
“Wu Minqi murmured, “It smells quite like the sauce for poached chicken. I haven’t had poached chicken in a while, I kind of miss it.”
Jiang Feng: No, you don’t!
After a busy morning, during lunch Wu Minqi was taken aback when she saw Sun Guanyun, “Sir Sun?”
Sun Guanyun was also surprised to see Wu Minqi, “Jiang Weiguo, you’re quite something, snagging Old Wu’s precious granddaughter to work in your tiny rundown shop. Aren’t you afraid that Old Wu will come all the way from Shu to chop you up with a knife?”
“What Old Wu, you might know me but I don’t recognize you. I’m just a Special Grade II chef, nowhere near your Special Grade I chefs,” said Jiang Weiguo.
The chef grading system had started back in the sixties, and at that time the exams didn’t differentiate between pastries and hot dishes. Jiang Weiguo had passed his Special Grade II exam early on and never took another one, while Jiang Weiming, Sun Guanyun, as well as Wu Minqi’s grandfather and father were all Special Grade I chefs. However, the system has since been updated and there are no longer Special Grade I or II titles, now called Technician and Senior Technician.
There are countless Special Grade I chefs across the country. While it may sound like a lot, it’s really not that many; most of the time, people refer to the representative figures of various cuisines. It’s rather rigid to purely classify chefs by their grades. Every chef has one or two special skills up their sleeves. If you really tried to determine who was better, you could argue for three days and nights and still not reach a conclusion.
Take Sun Guanyun for example—he had a rather rough time. When it comes to Cantonese cuisine, many would say that Jubao Building is authentic, but when discussing master Cantonese chefs, he doesn’t make the cut. The current recognized master of Cantonese cuisine is his junior, Sun Maocai, the adopted son of his father who branched out on his own.
When Wu Minqi learned that Sun Guanyun was specifically there to guide Jiang Feng, she looked at Jiang Feng with a deep and gloomy gaze.
That look, envious with a touch of jealousy, and mixed within the jealousy, a hint of resentment.
In the afternoon, Sun Guanyun stopped having Jiang Feng prepare the sauce for poached chicken and switched to poached shrimp instead.
Poached shrimp, like poached chicken, is one of the representative dishes of Cantonese cuisine; it relies on the sauce for seasoning. Poaching refers to cooking the raw and natural ingredients directly in boiling water; poached shrimp is done this way to preserve the shrimp’s fresh, sweet, and tender flavors, which are then dipped into sauce according to individual taste.
If the sauce for poached chicken can still be categorized into several main types, the sauce for poached shrimp is entirely up to one’s creativity, with no restrictions. As long as the customer likes it, it does not matter if it’s dipped in chili oil, balsamic vinegar, spiced oil, or even white liquor.
The restaurant had live shrimp, either king prawns or regular prawns, commonly known as giant shrimp, bought by Wang Xiulian a few days ago. Nobody here farms shrimp, so the live ones are either served up or go bad. Usually, those on the brink are turned into dinner or midnight snacks for the staff, and fresh ones are purchased the next day.
This batch of shrimp, for instance, was supposed to last until tomorrow at latest.
But today, since Jiang Feng needed to practice making the sauce for poached shrimp, these would meet an early end.
After washing the fresh shrimp, just throw them into the pot, and the rest doesn’t need attention. Two minutes later, once they’re cooked, just lift them out. There’s no need for salt, as the soul lies within the sauce.
“The first customer prefers bland tastes, doesn’t eat onion, ginger, or garlic, dislikes spicy food, and usually eats vegetarian.”
“The second customer loves spicy, with no dietary restrictions except for ginger.”
“The third customer dislikes sweet and sour, but loves cilantro.”
“The fourth customer likes numbing flavors but doesn’t enjoy spicy, and likes ginger and garlic.”
“The fifth customer can’t specify their preferences, but they have an extremely heavy palate.”
Jiang Feng’s vigorously writing hand suddenly paused; it’s one thing for a customer not to be able to specify preferences.
Having memorized all the preferences of the five imaginary customers and set them on the table, Jiang Feng began to ponder with his head down.
The second and fourth customers were easy to handle. The fifth customer, who couldn’t specify their preferences was a mystery, and without real customers, Jiang Feng had no idea where to begin.
“Master Sun… Sir Sun, without real customers, it’s hard to make a matching sauce!” Jiang Feng directly voiced his hesitation.
Hearing Jiang Feng say this, Sun Guanyun fell silent for a moment and then said, “You’re right, it’s difficult to judge.”
“Now go out on the street and bring in customers to sample the dish,” Sun Guanyun suggested.
“Ah?”
“This is a university town, with a large flow of customers. Offer free samples, meet the different requirements of different customers, and have them rate you,” Sun Guanyun looked at the shrimp and thought about the cost, then added, “One shrimp per person should suffice.”
Jiang Feng swallowed instinctively, feeling a bit nervous.
But somehow, it seemed like it could work.