Gourmet: From a Stall in Northern Europe

Chapter 592: Chapter 504: Ordinary Ingredients, All-New Combinations

John put down the plate and picked up a disposable box, scooping a little of everything inside, aiming for just a taste.

"I’ve had avocado mash, and I’ve had mashed potatoes, but this avocado potato mash, hey, I’ve never tried it!"

Despite its green appearance and common ingredients, this dish became the breakfast bestseller for the day, making it hard not to be curious.

John didn’t linger in the restaurant as it was crowded to the point of difficulty walking, and he feared he might want to go back for more after a taste, so he simply left through the side door to the outdoors.

Scooping up a spoonful of creamy avocado potato mash, the green mash mingled with distinct light yellow streaks reminded him of a French dessert drizzle. Combined with chunks of avocado and nuts, just looking at it made him feel it was delicious.

He brought it to his nose and sniffed; the unique aroma of avocado wafted over, mixed with a faint scent of cream and the distinctive fragrance of basil leaves.

"Ah~ Mmm~"

The soft potato mash melted quietly on his tongue, like butter, gently dissolving with a light press.

"Is there really that much avocado?"

He was familiar with this texture; it’s unique to avocado, often called the butter of the vegetable world, highly nutritious, and not cheap.

He initially thought the potato mash mixed with avocado would primarily consist of potatoes, but once in his mouth, it was full of avocado aroma, with potatoes barely noticeable.

The mild citrus notes from lemon juice paired with the fresh scent of basil oil, seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, with a hint of light cream as a lubricant.

This bite was both satisfying and refreshing, a completely new taste he had never experienced.

The most crucial part was the small diced avocados and crushed nuts mixed in, adding an unusual texture to the otherwise smooth and creamy potato mash.

John scooped another spoonful into his mouth, discerned for a moment, and raised an eyebrow in surprise: "Pecans? No, there’s a slight sweet taste – amber pecans roasted with syrup, impressive!"

These sugar-coated nuts are among foreigners’ favorite snacks, usually sold in cans at supermarkets, and often used in restaurants as salad toppings for added texture.

But this was his first time having it in mashed potatoes, and mixed with all these flavors, the subtle sweetness and nutty fragrance was just right, elevating the overall taste.

"If I had known, I would have scooped two more spoonfuls..."

John licked the spoon, looking unsatisfied, then shook his head with a laugh: "I knew this would happen; Lin, that guy, is clearly setting traps, and I just can’t help but jump in!"

After eating a lot of Chinese food made by Lin Chen, tasting his custom Western cuisine, John truly admired this young Great Xia chap from the bottom of his heart.

How can someone be so talented, casually breaking cultural barriers, easily solving problems that have perplexed Western chefs for years?

If innovation were that easy, those Michelin Chefs wouldn’t be running around every few days collecting inspiration.

Thinking this, he casually picked up a piece of sourdough bread with a thick layer of English chive scrambled eggs spread on top and shoved it into his mouth. This was a relatively common dish, just more high-end and refined than ordinary restaurants.

"By the way, speaking of Michelin Chefs, where are they? Could they all have left... huh, this taste?"

As he chewed, the rich egg flavor mixed with creamy and chive scents spread in his mouth. Although called scrambled eggs, it felt more like the texture of mayonnaise, yet with traces of egg strings and bits, uniquely miraculous.

The sourdough was pre-fried with butter, the crispy texture paired with the scrambled eggs on top, like biting into an exploding egg sandwich, unique in flavor and lingering in aftertaste.

Eating delicious and enticing food, his eyes scanned the area, surprisingly finding no sign of any chefs.

Just as he wondered if the chefs all returned to their restaurants, a pickup truck turned the corner and drove towards them, then was similarly stopped by Gray at the entrance.

John frowned, feeling the pickup truck looked familiar but couldn’t recall where he’d seen it.

"Those who drive such pickup trucks are usually farm owners or those needing to transport goods, their own business for sure."

This thought flashed through his mind, but he still couldn’t remember where he’d seen the truck.

"Since I’ve seen it but am unfamiliar, maybe we cooperated before?"

With this thought, he immediately walked towards the food truck, speeding up his eating to quickly fill his stomach and meet the stranger.

Lin Chen, who was busy, also noticed the approach of a strange vehicle’s engine from afar. Casually glancing, he spotted Raphael the chef sitting in the passenger seat from dozens of meters away.

"Whoa?"

His eyes widened, quickly looking at the driver, who turned out to be a bearded bald-headed man he had never seen before.

Though the distance made the facial details blurred, he was sure he had never met this person.

Could he be a friend of the chef?

After parking the car in the hotel’s rear parking lot, Raphael and the bearded man hopped out of the vehicle.

"See, I wasn’t lying, was I?"

Raphael’s face was full of pride, and the bearded man beside him grinned: "I thought you were kidding, but there’s really a big Chinese restaurant here, and business is booming."

"But speaking of it, is Chinese food really that good? When I was in Paris, I tried fried rice and noodles at Chinatown, and the taste was just okay. I’ve heard the sweet and sour pork and orange chicken over there are pretty good."

"Oh my God, don’t ever call that Chinese food in front of Great Xia people!"

Raphael dragged him along by the shoulder, the bearded man looking puzzled: "Why? Isn’t it Chinese food? I can’t understand a word those people are saying!"

"It’s Westernized Chinese food, made especially for white people. Let me give you an example, and you’ll get it."

Raphael’s eyes twirled around, and he chuckled: "Have you ever had pineapple pizza?"

"Shut up!!"

The bearded man looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his face turning red as a tomato, his beard standing on end: "Don’t think just because you’re a Head Chef you can talk nonsense. Mention that name again, and I’ll hit..."

As he was yelling, the bearded man’s excitement gradually calmed down, and his raised fist slowly lowered, as if realizing something.

"Got it?"

Raphael patted him on the shoulder: "Great Xia people aren’t as sensitive as you guys, but the principle is the same. So, you probably haven’t experienced authentic, delicious Chinese food."

"Food that you praise to the skies, I’m really looking forward to it."

The bearded man rubbed his hands together excitedly, his throat moving, and unconsciously quickened his pace.

As the two of them stepped into the restaurant’s parking lot area, the scent of the ocean in the air was suddenly replaced by a faint scent of wheat.

The further they walked, the stronger the aroma became, and gradually, a salty and fragrant smell of some kind of sauce also wafted along with the sea breeze.

The bearded man took a deep breath, feeling saliva flood his mouth uncontrollably.

"Oh hey! Isn’t this Maurice!"

John, who had been waiting early on, finally remembered who this guy was when he saw that face—it was the owner of another farm a few kilometers away from his own farm.

"John? My God, you’re eating here too. Aren’t you slacking off?"

The bearded man cheerfully extended his hand. John thought it was for a handshake, so he stuffed the bun he had bitten twice into his mouth, holding it there, and extended his hand.

Just as they were about to shake hands, Maurice’s rough hand expertly maneuvered, dodging John’s hand, and in a flash, snatched the large bun from the paper box held in John’s other hand.

Before John and Raphael could react, the bearded man had already stuffed it into his mouth.

"Hey!!"

John looked anxious, instinctively reaching out to stop him, but the prepared bearded man slapped his hand away.

Maurice, full of pride, winked at him and took a big bite.

"Splat"

The scalding meat juice spurted out, hitting the roof of the mouth heavily, almost instantly numbing his palate.

Seeing the bearded man’s upper body tilt forward suddenly, Raphael and John exchanged glances, both with knowing smiles at the corners of their mouths.

"Meat bun?"

"Yes."

"I knew it."

Hearing the schadenfreude laughter ringing in his ears, the bearded man hurriedly spat out the bun.

"Damn it, that was hot!!"

"You’re still the same old you. Who told you to snatch it? Why do you think I wasn’t eating it?"

John chewed on his saucy meat bun with big bites, sneering repeatedly in disdain. "Only someone who’s never eaten Great Xia buns would snatch like that."

Wanting to retort, Maurice didn’t know what to say for a moment, glaring at him before turning his gaze to Raphael on the right.

"Why didn’t you warn me?"

"How was I supposed to know you’d steal his bun?"

"...Never mind!"

Maurice initially wanted to cause a fuss for a while, but as the heat of the meat juice in his mouth gradually decreased, the unparalleled deliciousness began to unfold.

Smacking his lips a few times, he wanted to take another bite of the hot bun but was afraid of getting burned again, so he could only stare wide-eyed.

"Eating Great Xia meat buns requires technique. You have to first bite a window open to let the filling inside cool down quickly, then blow on it a few times to reduce the temperature, then suck out the meat juice like drinking soup, and only then can you safely take big bites of the bun."

Raphael kindly explained it to him, and the bearded man nodded: "So now that I’ve already bitten an opening, I just need to blow a few times, and I can drink the juice, right?"