The Gourmet Customizer

Mrs. Fang Chang overheard and said, "In that case, I’ll make you stir-fried oat noodles tomorrow. You can come over to our house with Fang Chang for dinner."

"Mm-hm!" Jiang Yuan nodded, agreeing.

When Jiang Wensheng saw this, his heart ached!

’This is my daughter, the one I raised from a little girl, and now she’s this close with someone else? She’s even going to their house for dinner! Isn’t my own Huaiyang cuisine better than these stupid oat noodles? They’re so dark, they don’t even look edible!’

Huffing, Jiang Wensheng picked up a piece with his chopsticks. ’Fine, I’ll see what this is all about!’

He dipped it in the pork rib broth and brought it to his mouth.

Ooh!!!

’What in the world is this incredible combination?’

There were no actual ribs in the broth, just the rich, meaty flavor of pork and a savory soy sauce fragrance, along with an intense saltiness.

’But when dipped in these oat noodles, all those strong flavors are somehow perfectly balanced?’

’And the flavor of the oat noodles themselves is amazing, too. It’s not like white flour or any other kind of flour. It’s like these noodles...’

Jiang Wensheng picked up another piece to savor it properly.

At first bite, there wasn’t a strong taste, just the faint, fragrant aroma of some kind of grain.

The texture was also slightly coarse, suggesting it was made from some kind of unrefined grain.

Seeing how curious Jiang Wensheng was, Mrs. Fang smiled and explained to everyone, "These oat noodles are a northern specialty. The grain they’re made from is called naked oats."

"To make these noodles, the oats have to go through a ’three-raw, three-cooked’ process. It’s actually quite laborious."

"Oh?" As a food connoisseur, Jiang Wensheng’s interest was piqued. "What does that mean?" he asked.

Mrs. Fang laughed. "Well, after the oats are harvested, they have to be threshed and then roasted before being ground into flour. That’s the first ’raw’ and the first ’cooked’."

"After it’s ground into flour, you have to use boiling water to make the dough. That’s the second ’raw’ and second ’cooked’."

"And once the dough is made, it has to be processed a third time—steamed into the noodles you see here. That’s the third ’raw’ and third ’cooked’. I remember when I was a child, whenever our village’s threshing ground was roasting the oats, the entire village would be filled with that wonderful aroma."

So that’s how it was!

Jiang Wensheng marveled, "To think such an amazing grain exists."

Mr. Fang laughed heartily. "When you all head back, I’ll have Fang Chang pack some oat noodles for you to take home!"

But Mrs. Fang shook her head. "These oat noodles have to be made here with our local water. If you take them somewhere else, it just doesn’t work."

"Ah?" Yuan Suzhen was puzzled. "Why is that?"

’It’s just water for making dough. Why wouldn’t water from another place work? That sounds a little far-fetched, doesn’t it?’

This time, before Mrs. Fang could explain, Jiang Wensheng spoke up. "That’s actually possible. I once had a friend from Yue Province who enthusiastically brought me one of their local specialties to try. But after struggling in the kitchen several times, I just couldn’t replicate the taste. In the end, we had to blame it on the water here in Yangzhou..."

Could such a strange thing really exist in the world?

The others at the table clicked their tongues in amazement as they listened.

In the midst of their light conversation, the steamed oat noodle rolls were devoured completely. Jiang Wensheng’s opinion of Jingzhou Cuisine had started to change.

’If this is what it tastes like, then it’s actually quite good,’ he thought. ’It’s just that the ingredients are a little unrefined.’

Seeing that another plate on the table was now empty, Fang Chang grew anxious.

What’s the biggest fear for a northerner hosting a meal?

It’s seeing the plates go empty mid-meal, which always leaves you feeling like you haven’t treated your guests properly.

"Hah, Boss Su seems a bit slow with the dishes today. That’s not like him," Fang Chang said, trying to change the subject and ease the awkward atmosphere.

Father Fang Chang, however, said bluntly, "It’s because we’re eating too fast!"

Jiang Wensheng and Yuan Suzhen lowered their heads in embarrassment.

Indeed, they were eating faster than Su Chen had anticipated. At that very moment, Su Chen was rushing to prepare the next dish: the legendary Black Pork Stew!

"I think the stew is better when the potatoes are cooked down until they’re mushy," Bai Xiaobo said in the kitchen, his mouth watering at the mere thought. "The mashed potato clings to the glass noodles... ah, that first bite, mmm!"

"Nonsense," He Shuting retorted, full of conviction. "A real stew needs pan-fried potatoes and pan-fried tofu to be good. What you’re talking about isn’t a stew, it’s a braise!"

Liu Shengnan racked her brain, recalling the stews she’d eaten before. ’They both have a point,’ she thought. ’I actually like it both ways.’

Even Aunt Fang was a little unsure. "Sometimes I pan-fry the ingredients first, and other times I just stew them directly..."

After hearing everyone’s conflicting opinions, Su Chen sighed.

’This dish is so difficult!’

No matter which method he tried, the best Su Chen could manage was A Level. That was already his peak performance in the practice room.

’But I’ve already served three S-Level Huaiyang dishes. If I follow those with three A-Level Jingzhou dishes, it’ll make the local cuisine seem completely outclassed!’

’If all else fails, should I just serve six big pork buns and call it a day?’

’But pork buns don’t have a distinctly Jingzhou flavor.’

"Boss, is it possible..." Liu Ahbao began to speculate, offering an outsider’s perspective.

He had never eaten this "Black Pork Stew," but listening to everyone’s discussion, he had a general idea.

"This dish... its essence is in the ’stewing,’ right? I don’t know what methods you’re all talking about, but a ’stew’ has to be, well, ’stewed’."

Su Chen thought for a moment.

"’Stewing’ is very different from simmering or braising. If what you’re saying is right..."

As he spoke, Su Chen began to prepare the ingredients.

That was right. For this dish, he only had the raw, chopped ingredients; nothing had been pre-cooked or processed yet.

Liu Ahbao’s words were like a bolt from the blue, jolting him into a sudden realization.