Gourmet: From a Stall in Northern Europe

Chapter 565: Chapter 477: What Competition? You’re Overthinking It~

"Lin, we’re already in first place!"

While waiting, Chris chatted with Lin with a smile and gestured with her eyes toward the second team that had just come out.

Now there’s not much for her to worry about in the pot; just calmly waiting for the fish soup to boil will do.

Lin followed Chris’s gaze and broke into a pure smile, her white teeth particularly striking in the dim sunset.

"So, as long as we get the seasoning right, no one can beat us!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

Chris seemed a bit worried and gave some additional advice.

"You can start seasoning now. If unsure, add less."

"If you add too little, it can be remedied, but adding too much could ruin it, and you’ll have to dilute with more water, which would weaken the soup’s concentration and affect the flavor."

"Got it!"

With these words, Lin’s once-relaxed heart tensed up again.

Seasoning is something with no exact references. Even if she watched Old Chen’s process, at most, she could remember what ingredients were used. But due to the different quantities made, the exact amount of seasoning cannot be copied exactly; she has to adjust by eye.

She knew she couldn’t always rely on others; being strong herself is the key.

Recalling the feeling of cooking at home, she multiplied the amount for two people by three, then quickly sprinkled two spoonfuls of fine sea salt into the soup.

Then came MSG and white vinegar, also guided by her intuition.

She stirred, tasted the soup, and tilted her head in slight confusion.

This didn’t taste like she imagined!

"The sourness can mask some of the saltiness."

Seeing her confused expression, Chris kindly reminded her.

As a pastry chef, Chris dealt with lemon juice daily and naturally understood the properties of sourness.

"I see."

Lin suddenly understood and added a bit more sea salt, finally feeling the taste was somewhat similar to what Old Chen had made.

But there was still something missing, yet she couldn’t pinpoint what was lacking.

"Have a taste?"

Chris tasted the fish soup Lin handed over, savoring it for a moment, her brows furrowing with confusion.

"Strange, the taste is ninety percent similar, but when I think about it, something seems missing."

"If I had to guess, I can’t figure out what’s missing; it’s so strange."

"Could it be because of the different frying methods?"

Quickly reflecting on Lin’s process and Old Chen’s process, the only difference seemed to be in the way the ingredients were fried.

Old Chen’s frying had intense flames, orange-red fire flickering all around, sometimes even leaping into the pot.

Other than that, there didn’t seem to be any differences.

"Oh well, we’ve got this far, and it’s no longer fixable. After all, it’s impossible for what students make to completely match what the Head Chef made, or else they wouldn’t be students. We’ll ask the Head Chef later on what caused this."

"Okay."

Lin nodded, noticing the fine bubbles gradually forming along the edges of the fish soup, quickly swapping places with Chris while lowering the flame, then took up a saucepan to heat the oil.

The two girls were well ahead of everyone else. By the time they completed the oil pouring step, the second team was just getting their fish soup into the pot, the third group was just starting their cutting and prep work, and the fourth group had just wheeled their cart out of the restaurant.

"Good, we already have one team that’s finished with their dish."

Lucas walked around the venue like a host, primarily focusing his attention on the two girls.

And you know, what they made really looked presentable, especially the last three oil pours which truly captured the essence, done with a flourish.

Don’t be fooled by what seems like a simple action; the speed and intensity need consideration.

If poured too slowly, it becomes drizzling oil, essentially continuing to heat the dish, akin to frying it.

If poured too quickly, the hot oil might splash and accidentally harm oneself.

One must grasp the right balance: steady, accurate, decisive, turning the ladle in a half-circle with one’s wrist, crafting a beautiful arc to ensure the hot oil perfectly lands on the desired surface of the ingredients.

"So, who wants to taste the pickled fish made by these two chefs? Raise your hand!"

The moment Lucas finished speaking, a forest of hands shot up in the crowd.

"You two choose, see which lucky ones get to taste the delicious dish you’ve crafted first."

"Huh?"

Chris and Lin were a bit dumbfounded, staring at him blankly.

"Don’t the Head Chefs usually taste it?"

"Huh? Oh, I get it. You didn’t think this was a competition, did you?"

Lucas was quick on the uptake, immediately realizing and shaking his head with a smile: "If you have to say it that way, it’s not wrong, but your opponent isn’t anyone else; it’s yourself."

"The time limit is only to add a sense of urgency, as in normal meal services, it would be even more pressing, so I can’t let you take your sweet time."

"As for the taste, well, you’ve already tried it before, and now, if you dare to raise your hand, it means you’re confident in your product. It doesn’t matter who tastes it."

"Compared to the Head Chefs, the diners are the best judges!"

He didn’t lower his voice for this speech; instead, he shouted it using a megaphone. The other teams felt relieved when they heard it wasn’t a competition.

"We Great Xia People value distribution according to labor, which means those who work more get more, though... cough cough, never mind, at least that’s how it is here!"

"Although it’s not a contest, there’s no penalty for overtime. However, the teams that finish earlier and do better show the chef’s excellent personal skills, and they will be prioritized for important tasks in the future."

"This is essentially a form of reward, everyone understands, right?"

Chris, who was a bit disappointed earlier, suddenly brightened her eyes and nodded repeatedly.

Gaining priority for work opportunities means being noticed by the leaders.

As long as she can complete the work perfectly, promotion won’t take long.

This principle applies not only to these chefs but also to these waiters.

"Choose me!"

"Please choose me, thank you!"

Lin, somewhat indecisive, scanned back and forth across the dozens of faces, unsure who to choose.

No matter who is chosen, will the rest have an issue with her?

Just as she hesitated, she suddenly spotted a familiar face in the corner, her eyes lit up, and she pointed and shouted.

"Daniel!"

"Come over here and try my pickled fish!"

Her shout exploded the scene instantly.

"Daniel?"

"Who is it, who’s Daniel?"

"Sounds like a man’s name; if I recall correctly, there aren’t many male servers, right?"

In the direction she was pointing, the girls spread out to see who the lucky one is.

Daniel hadn’t reacted yet and was already in public view, surrounded by over a dozen beauties, leaving only one path forward.

He had no choice but to bristle and walk forward, although excited to taste his sister’s homemade dish.

This was not like the random home-cooked meals but authentic Great Xia Restaurant cuisine.

As he approached, he saw a layer of golden-green thin oil floating on the milk-white fish soup, with dried red chili segments soaking within, providing a visual impact that’s very strong.

Snow-white fish slices were piled on the surface of the fish soup, covered in a nearly invisible crystal-like sheen.

He surprisingly looked up at his sister, gave a thumbs up, and eagerly picked up a slice of fish with public chopsticks and placed it in his bowl.

"By the way, how many fish slices are in one serving?"

Baffled by his question, Lin instinctively turned to Chris for answers.

Chris was responsible for the fish slices from start to finish. She hadn’t questioned it until now, realizing there was a quantity issue.

Two slices were clearly unreasonable. Any restaurant that dared to offer only two fish slices, unless it was a Michelin delicacy, would definitely face complaints.

However, thinking back, it seems the Head Chef and Lucas never explained how many fish slices were in one serving, right?

"One serving is eight slices."

Chris smiled sweetly in recognition and replied.

The fish slices were thin but wide and long due to the size of the fish itself, with the length almost matching a palm.

The amount of eight slices combined is similar to what a regular restaurant serves as a piece of grilled fish fillet.

"So many?"

Upon hearing the team’s pickled fish had eight slices per serving, the unchosen waiters exploded, clamoring to be selected to taste.

They reached out so far, nearly poking at the noses of the two.

"I’ve picked him, how about you choose the rest?"

Chris scanned them suspiciously, initially wondering if they were a couple, but upon closer inspection, noticed a resemblance in their features.

Could they be siblings?

Though she wasn’t too familiar with black people’s features, she often had face blindness, thinking they all look similar with bald heads or dreadlocks, thick lips, high noses, and glaringly white silver teeth.

However, the fact that Lin called his name directly meant she knew him, so it was best not to inquire publicly.

Suppressing unnecessary curiosity, Chris casually pointed to several in the front.

"I’ll just pick randomly, according to what Mr. Lucas said: the ones at the front get priority consideration."

"Please come forward for meal tasting, and then provide some feedback on the taste, thank you."

"Those not chosen, don’t take it to heart; I suggest you quickly go to the front of another team to seize the chance..."

Before she finished speaking, the crowd blocking the front dispersed and quickly divided among several other teams.

"How’s the taste?"

Lin looked expectantly at Daniel, who was tasting the fish slices, nervous hands clasped together.

Even though she tasted it herself, she was still worried about hearing an unfavorable review from others.

Though her brother would never say her cooking was bad, the true answer could be gleaned from subtle changes in facial expressions.