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The Game of Life

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Chapter 183 - Chapter 183: Chapter 182: Sweet and Sour Yam

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Chapter 183 - Chapter 183: Chapter 182: Sweet and Sour Yam

Chapter 183: Chapter 182: Sweet and Sour Yam

Translator: 549690339

To be fair, Jiang Feng thought the pancake roll Jiang Jiankang made today wasn’t as tasty as the leftover noodles from other days, it lacked flavor, and it tasted pretty much the same as the filling in the steamed dumplings from Shaxian Snacks next door. Leftovers, when reheated, still had their aroma, and coupled with the hand-pulled noodles made with Jiang Jiankang’s exquisite skill, leftover noodles were actually quite delicious.

After breakfast, Jiang Feng helped chop vegetables, and then he prepared to practice making Sweet and Sour Yam.

During the game’s bug-ridden update phase, having nothing better to do, he looked up the method of making Sweet and Sour Yam, and since he had been using yam and sweet potato for practice after the new year, he had learned quite a bit about this dish; as long as he didn’t let the sugar settle at the bottom of the oil, there was virtually no chance of failure.

The Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant’s kitchen might not have much, but it had many stoves, which were also closely placed. Sometimes, while stir-frying at noon, Jiang Jiankang’s vigorous tossing could cause Jiang Feng, with a mere turn, to bump into his right hand actively tossing the wok.

The yams were fresh, just delivered by the supplier that morning. After washing, peeling, and cutting them into pieces, two woks were lit at the same time, one for frying the yam pieces and the other for stir-frying the sugar – a truly clever method for those unfamiliar with the technique of letting sugar settle at the bottom of the oil.

Jiang Jiankang was chopping meat at the cooking counter, as a teacher from UAL University had reserved a table of dishes the day before, many of which were elaborate like pork knuckle, sweet and sour carp, double crispy stir-fry, and crispy chicken, which were time-consuming and needed to be prepared ’ well in advance.

The live carp in the water tank blew bubbles not knowing what they would undergo in the afternoon.

Jiang Feng fried the yams while keeping his eye on the wok with the sugar, his divided attention still allowing him to chat with Jiang Jiankang.

“Didn’t Granduncle Weiming teach you how to let sugar settle at the bottom of the oil?” Jiang Jiankang knew a similar technique, but Jiang Weiguo had not taught him how to do it, and he had tried all sorts of strange methods when making sweet dishes.

Jiang Weiguo’s own sugar-settling technique was half-baked and self-taught a typical knock-off.

“I’m not very familiar with it; I wanted to try a more reliable method,” Jiang Feng said.

“I think the sugar-settling method is better, that Sweet and Sour Yam Granduncle Weiming made for you, that flavor – tsk tsk.” Jiang Jiankang longed for the Sweet and Sour Yam Jiang Weiming made while demonstrating the sugar-settling technique.

Crispy, soft, sweet, and delicately golden like freshly fried potato chunks, crunchy, with sugar threads as fine as hair that could continue indefinitely without dipping in cold water.

The Sweet and Sour Yam they made using other methods paled in comparison to the one Jiang Weiming had made before.

In the middle of their conversation, the yam was already fried.

If it was taken out of the wok too early and the timing wasn’t right, the temperature of the yam would gradually drop. By the time the other wok was ready for pulling sugar threads, the temperature wouldn’t be ideal, and neither the texture of the yam nor the quality of the sugar threads would be as good as those made with the sugar-settling technique.

Jiang Jiankang, who was chopping meat on the side, also noticed and said, “You fried the yam too early.”

“Hmm.” Jiang Feng stared at the other wok, where the syrup surface had begun to form soft bubbles, indicating that the right moment for pulling sugar threads was near, “Two minutes too early.”

The yam goes into the wok: stir-fry quickly, flip the spoon, mix evenly, and serve.

[Sweet and Sour Yam Grade C]

[An ordinary Sweet and Sour Yam with no buff enhancements]

The shitty game indeed shows whatever it wants to see.

Jiang Feng picked up a piece; the sugar threads were quite long but not fine enough, far from the standard set by Jiang Weiming’s Sweet and Sour Yam.

Dip in water, then take a bite.

It was slightly scalding, the syrup a tad thick, the yam too soft and lacking the crispy sweet texture – truly mediocre.

He didn’t like sweets, and had originally planned to offer it to Mrs. Wang Xiulian as comfort for her injured stomach after not having met this morning. Just as he was about to serve the dish, Ji Yue, who had come to work, slipped into the kitchen.

Jiang Feng, do you have any beans… oh, Sweet and Sour Yam.” Ji Yue, a sweet­toothed aficionado, brightened at the sight of Sweet and Sour Yam; she would gladly take any of Jiang Feng’s failed experiments.

Having something so sweet early in the morning is a sin,” Ji Yue said, feigning repentance in her words but not in her heart. She skillfully grabbed a pair of chopsticks, took a large chunk, and instantly dismissed her initial intention of sneaking in to snatch a cup of soy milk.

“Not bad, by the way, where’s Mrs. Wang? I didn’t see her outside just now, and there’s no one upstairs,” Ji Yue asked.

My mom’s not m the shop?” Jiang Feng fired up the stove to make another batch of Sweet and Sour Yam, “She might have gone to buy scallion pancakes the new fried chicken place that opened a few days ago makes a tasty one, and my mom’s bought it several times. Oh, and remember to write ‘Special on Sweet and Sour Yam’ on the stand-up board at the entrance.”

Ji Yue was already very familiar with Jiang Feng’s routine of offering specials on whatever dish he was practicing. While eating a second piece, she asked unclearly, “Are you going to make Sweet and Sour Yam for the semifinals? Right, who are you up against? Not Zhang Guanghang, I hope?”

“No, I’m up against Wu Minqi,” Jiang Feng replied.

“Yo-ho, that’s exciting.” Ji Yue, a typical onlooker who loves a good show, honestly took a jab at Jiang Feng, “You’re in trouble.”

Ji Yue hung around the kitchen, eating and watching Jiang Feng make Sweet and Sour Yam, occasionally raising common spectator questions.

“Why are you using two woks at the same time?”

“Actually, these pieces of yam kind of look like chunks of potato.”

“Eh, the sugar’s starting to bubble.”

“Sweet and Sour Yam is stir-fried?!”

“This…”

“That…”

“Hey, this…”

“Finished eating?” Jiang Feng asked.

Finished.” Ji Yue was chatty because she had nothing else to do after finishing her meal.

Jiang Feng brought over the newly cooked Sweet and Sour Yam to Ji Yue, “Have another plate.”

[Sweet and Sour Yam C-level]

When Ji Yue had eaten a quarter of the second plate of Sweet and Sour Yam, Mrs. Wang Xiulian came into the kitchen, eating a hand-grabbed pancake.

The ultimate version with added pork chop, bacon, ham, shredded meat and egg­

judging by the time Mrs. Wang Xiulian was out of sight, she must have eaten more than one pancake – the rest had probably already found their way into her stomach.

“Sweet and Sour Yam?” Mrs. Wang Xiulian eyed the Sweet and Sour Yam in front of her, wanting a piece but hesitated and decided against it; eating something sweet and then the pancake would mix flavors, “Son, when will the dish in your pan be ready?”

“Five more minutes,” Jiang Feng replied.

“I’ll have the next one, this dish is best eaten hot,” Mrs. Wang Xiulian said as she took a big bite of the pancake in her hand.

After finishing two plates of Sweet and Sour Yam and worrying about her calorie intake, Ji Yue kept muttering “sinful, sinful” and decided out of sight out of mind. She went to the dining hall, fearing that if she saw the third plate, she wouldn’t be able to resist continuing to eat.

Throughout the morning, Jiang Feng made over a dozen servings of Sweet and Sour Yam, consumed five plates in-house, gave a few to neighboring businesses, and stored the rest in a warmer. Even though Jiang Feng felt quite pleased with himself, convinced that each dish was better than the last, not one received a game rating higher than C-level.

He decided to try a new method in the afternoon, using oil to sink the sugar, to see if the taste would improve.

Wu Minqi arrived late today, not showing up until after noon. She put on her apron and got straight to work.

“Did you have a full schedule this morning?” Jiang Feng inquired. If he remembered correctly, Wu Minqi only had two classes this morning, including an early one at eight o’clock.

“My dad arrived today. My mom and I went to pick him up from the airport,” Wu Minqi explained.

“Where are your parents now?” asked Jiang Feng.

“In the restaurant, ordering food.”

Jiang Feng: ???

What are they ordering? They should stay for lunch with us; it’ll be less busy after this half hour,” Jiang Jiankang said cheerfully. “It’ll be a good chance to meet, as today Jiang Feng’s grandfather and Granduncle Weiming are also coming over.”

“Alright, then I’ll go out and tell them,” Wu Minqi thought it was a good idea and put down the vegetable she was holding to go out.

After a while, Wu Minqi came back into the kitchen with her dad.

Wu Minqi’s dad was an average-looking middle-aged man, who appeared somewhat scholarly with glasses, not like a chef but more like a teacher. He was slightly overweight and looked quite serious with little expression.

“My dad says he will also help out,” Wu Minqi announced.

No sooner had she finished speaking than Mrs. Wang Xiulian stuck her head into the kitchen and asked loudly, “Jiankang, where did you put the temporary menu? I can’t find it.”

“Huh?” Jiang Jiankang was confused.

“Mrs. Wang, I found it! What should I write?” Ji Yue called from outside.

“Right, Qiqi, what were those dishes you mentioned just now?” Mrs. Wang Xiulian inquired.

Chestnut Chicken, Ants Climbing a Tree, Sichuan-style Cold Noodles. But Mrs. Wang, we don’t have cold noodles in the restaurant, do we?” Wu Minqi asked.

“No worries, the shop behind us has them. I’ll buy them in a bit,” Mrs. Wang Xiulian said nonchalantly. “Mr. Wu, you can just join us for meals these few days.”

With that, she went out to the dining hall.

Mr. Wu:…

Why are you all so practiced…

Is this restaurant commonly visited by random guest chefs who come to cook?

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