Chapter 348: Chapter 347 Shafu Roast Chicken
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After losing his memory, Jiang Feng’s first reaction was that he still hadn’t seen Xia Mushi finish making Ten Thousand Fortune Meat.
It was as if by simply watching Xia Mushi complete the Ten Thousand Fortune Meat, he could learn to make it himself.
But then again, when did he become so passionate about cooking?
Originally, he watched memories like watching a movie, after all, the stories in the memories were usually very exciting, with plots full of twists and turns, agonizing romances, sweet reunions, overwhelming dog food, and a full range of joys and sorrows—even some little-known gossip.
As for the process of cooking, Jiang Feng usually just glanced at it; after all, without the ability to learn it, watching once wouldn’t do any good, but if it was something he could learn, it would appear in the recipe column to watch as many times as needed.
With this thought, Jiang Feng this time opened the attribute panel and flipped to the recipe column.
Xia Mushi only had four dishes, and half of them were already highlighted.
[Shafu Roast Chicken (Imitation) A-grade]
Creator: Xia Mushi
Dish Details: Originally, this was a world-renowned French classic. By chance, through the hands of Beiping’s famous chef Xia Mushi and Chinese cooking techniques, a new vitality was breathed into it, accidentally creating this superb dish. Due to the deep affection the elderly chef had for his disciple, hidden in his heart and unspoken, and the special warmth and joy felt by diners when eating this dish, it became an unforgettable memory in Zhang Guanghang’s life. After consumption, for one hour you can obtain: French (Advanced) buff.
Times can be made per day (0/3)
Friendly Reminder: The difficulty of this dish far exceeds the player’s current culinary level, with a 100% chance of failure.
Jiang Feng: ???
What did he see? A French (Advanced) buff???
This was no different from Zhang Guanghang going on stage and introducing himself: “I am a chef with 20 years of practice from France, specializing in Shandong cuisine, French cuisine, and Japanese cuisine. Today, I bring you a program of French recitations.”
Selling this dish in front of North Second Foreign Language College would go crazy, wouldn’t it?
So from now on, Taifeng Building not only has to compete with marriage agencies but also with French tutoring services? Others open English crash courses, I open French taste-and-speak crash courses?
Jiang Feng’s thoughts drifted far away.
After taking a shower, Wu Minqi came out and saw Jiang Feng lying on the sofa, lost in thought again.
“What are you thinking about? Go take a shower, it’s getting late,” said Wu Minqi as she dried her hair.
“Minqi, do you want to learn French?” Jiang Feng asked earnestly.
“French? What for? Is there something you do not understand? If you cannot understand it, just take a picture and ask Zhang Guanghang,” Wu Minqi had trouble keeping up with Jiang Feng’s train of thought.
“It’s nothing, I was just asking casually. I was thinking, if you knew French, we could find a time to go to France for a visit,” Jiang Feng found that his lying skills were getting better and better; nonsense came to him effortlessly and without a change of expression or heartbeat.
“But you don’t need to specifically learn French for that. Besides, with the store being so busy, when is there time to go out and play? We can find another time for that. Go take a shower quickly. You must be tired from kneading dough all day; the sooner you wash up, the sooner you can sleep,” Wu Minqi urged.
Jiang Feng obediently went to take a bath and then went to bed.
To be honest, lying down always seemed to make his jaw sore.
…
When Jiang Feng woke up early the next morning, he found himself as spirited as a dragon and a hero again; the foreign sensation in his back had completely disappeared. He could run, jump, and even sit; having no issue going to work as usual.
Since he woke up relatively early, after freshening up, Jiang Feng went downstairs to buy breakfast. In reality, it was just green bean buns from the internet-famous bun shop at the entrance of the neighborhood. Jiang Feng originally planned to buy in one go for all the Jiang Family Members; after all, under the leadership of Mrs. Wang Xiulian, green bean buns had become an important staple on the Jiang Family’s breakfast table.
Who would have thought that the downstairs bun shop actually had a purchase limit: only 10 buns per person before 8:30 AM. Their buns were indeed quite large, but how could that handle the appetites of Jiang Jiankang and Mrs. Wang Xiulian? No wonder lately Wu Minqi seldom bought breakfast for Mrs. Wang Xiulian.
By the time Jiang Feng returned with the buns, Wu Minqi had already gotten up. After they had breakfast, they left early for Taifeng Building.
Starting today, Jiang Weiming was going to teach Jiang Feng how to make sea cucumber dishes.
Due to the unique nature of sea cucumbers as an ingredient, sea cucumber dishes generally are a notch harder than other dishes. Over the years, the methods of preparing sea cucumber dishes have also become increasingly diverse, no longer limited to being matched with soups, stir-fries, roasts, or grills. Many novel methods of making sea cucumber dishes have emerged.
If one were to take out just the sea cucumber dishes, there would be enough to fill a book.
Considering Jiang Feng’s almost zero knowledge of sea cucumber dishes, learning to make them meant starting with getting familiar with sea cucumbers.
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Commonly known as being a sous-chef.
The two elderly gentlemen were already waiting for him in the back kitchen early on. As soon as Jiang Feng arrived, they skipped small talk and got straight into teaching.
From that moment on, Jiang Feng began a life immersed in cooking sea cucumbers that felt as intensive as a winter holiday training camp, where he saw steamed sea cucumbers every time he opened his eyes, encountered wild sea cucumbers every time he closed them, and even thought of golden sea cucumbers whenever he spaced out.
Having learned from the experience of the previous winter training, the two Sirs knew the importance of balancing work with rest. Considering that Jiang Feng seemed to have no entertainment other than watching silly TV dramas and running to the Famous Benevolent Doctor, they tacitly accepted his habit of visiting the doctor every two or three days.
In the blink of an eye, it was next Friday.
Saturday would be Qixi, a time when countless couples indulged in public displays of affection regardless of time and place. Both Valentine’s Day on February 14 and Qixi Festival on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month were fixtures for showing off love, offering restaurants grand opportunities to introduce special couples’ sets that were much more expensive than the regular offerings.
However, to tell the truth, Qixi was originally the Qiqiao Festival, a time when girls would pray to the Weaver Girl in the heavens for dexterous hands so they could weave better cloth, which sounds like a somewhat motivational festival. Yet, it was forcefully twisted into Valentine’s Day due to the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl’s legend.
But this might be for the best, or else Qixi would turn into a merry celebration for clothing stores.
Even in the small kitchen of the Benevolent Doctor, Jiang Feng could sense the ambiance of the Qixi Festival.
The progress of the [Famous Doctor] quest was now at (98/100). Victory was within reach. In the small kitchen, Jiang Feng was cooking his beloved boiled broccoli for Jiang Shoucheng while pondering where to catch a rookie to complete the last two points of the task.
Zhuang Lin had already been discharged and went home to rest, and Fang Zhuoyue’s father had also recovered and left. The two regular newbies, Mrs. Qian and Fang Zhuoyue, weren’t coming to the small kitchen anymore, which slowed down Jiang Feng’s quest progress quite a bit. If they had continued visiting the small kitchen of the Benevolent Doctor, he would have finished the task the day before yesterday.
“Young man, what do you think about frying it this way? Can it be served now?” a newly joined rookie—a neatly dressed, scholarly gentleman with meticulously combed hair and a pair of metallic-framed glasses, suggesting he might have OCD—asked.
“Pretty much, it can be served like this,” Jiang Feng nodded in approval. “If you can’t control the seasoning when cooking, start with less salt. After tasting it, if it’s not salty enough, you can add a bit more. Putting too much in one go can ruin the dish.”
“Okay, thank you, young man. You’ve really been a great help,” the middle-aged man said gratefully.
Glancing at his watch, Jiang Feng saw it was already past 11 am. If another rookie didn’t show up, he would need to spend the evening in the small kitchen to complete the mission today.
Wouldn’t it be a bit cruel to make Cheng eat boiled broccoli twice in one day?
Maybe he should cook a pot of century egg and lean pork congee for him in the evening?
“Feng, you’re here!” Fang Zhuoyue’s voice, full of surprise, interrupted Jiang Feng’s thoughts.
“Why are you here? Didn’t your dad get discharged?” Jiang Feng was overjoyed to see Fang Zhuoyue, almost ready to suggest he cook a couple of dishes while he was here—I’ll teach you!
“My dad came back for a check-up today, he said he wanted to drink the plain congee I cook, so I came over. I didn’t expect you’d be here today,” Fang Zhuoyue explained.
“Can your dad eat other foods now?” Jiang Feng inquired.
“The doctor said he could have anything except seafood and very fatty foods,” Fang Zhuoyue said as he skillfully searched for the casseroles.
“Since your dad can eat normally now, why are you still cooking plain congee for him? You should cook him a couple of stir-fries!” Jiang Feng suggested.
Fang Zhuoyue found his familiar casserole among the many in the cabinet, took it out, and hesitated, “You’re right, but… I only know how to cook plain congee and have never stir-fried anything.”
“Just make a couple of easy home dishes, like scrambled eggs with tomatoes or stir-fried shredded potatoes. They’re easy to make; I can teach you!” Jiang Feng confidently offered. “Mrs. Qian’s braised beef with carrots was taught by me.”
Fang Zhuoyue was persuaded on the spot, “I’ll go buy the ingredients then. Tomatoes, eggs, and potatoes should be enough, right?”
“Yes, just buy a small amount. Two tomatoes are enough, don’t buy too much,” Jiang Feng instructed, watching Fang Zhuoyue leave.
The middle-aged man who had been listening to their conversation from the beginning was intrigued and asked Jiang Feng, “Excuse me for interrupting, but I overheard you two talking, and you seem to teach cooking here often.”
Jiang Feng was often asked this question and responded adeptly, “Yes, my brother is a doctor at this hospital. He’s picky and doesn’t like food made outside. I come here every now and then to cook him a meal and just so happen to teach people who aren’t very good at cooking. It’s really just giving some tips, since I’d be hanging around the kitchen anyway.”
“Are you a chef?”
“Yes, I’m a chef at Taifeng Building,” Jiang Feng never missed a chance to advertise for Taifeng Building.
“Taifeng Building, I’ve heard of it. It’s the new restaurant that opened in July, right? My friends have mentioned it, and the feedback is pretty good. I remember my friend telling me that your restaurant’s ordering system is quite unique. It’s not based on the dish, but on the chef, isn’t it?” the middle-aged man inquired.
“That’s right,” Jiang Feng, surprised to meet someone aware of Taifeng Building’s distinctive ordering system, couldn’t help but chat more, “If you’re free to dine at Taifeng Building, you might try my cooking—assuming you don’t mind, that is. My name is Jiang Feng, ‘Jiang’ as in river, and ‘Feng’ as in maple leaf.”
“Jiang Feng illuminates the river on a sleepless night, a fine name,” the middle-aged man smiled. “I’ll definitely try your cooking at Taifeng Building when I get the chance. I should be going now.”
“Thank you,” Jiang Feng replied with equal courtesy.