Chapter 383: Chapter 288: Camp 2
As the roaring fire in the stove burned brightly, heat began to spread rapidly throughout the tent.
The temperature inside the tent shot up. The air, which had been chilly just moments before, gradually grew warm. It was as if they had stepped out of the dead of winter and into a warm spring. Everyone gathered around the wood stove, warming their numb hands and feet.
"The Tundra is so cold in the winter!" Director Roland couldn’t help but exclaim, savoring the waves of warmth radiating from the stove.
The pallor on his face from the cold gradually gave way to a healthy flush, but the memory of the wind’s brutal assault outside still made him shudder.
"You call this cold? You should go to Barrow, where it gets down to seventy below. Now that’s what I call a real bone-chilling cold," Feng Mountain said, picking up a thick log and tossing it into the stove. As the wood fell, it sent up a shower of sparks, and the flames roared even higher.
Then, Feng Mountain stood up and brushed some wood shavings from his clothes.
"You guys get a pot of water boiling. I’m going to prepare dinner. How does spicy and numbing grouse with rice sound?"
The grouse was fresh from today’s hunt. A spicy and numbing dish served with rice would be incredibly satisfying in this cold weather, not to mention a great way to warm up.
The other three immediately agreed.
As long as they didn’t have to do the cooking, they didn’t care what they ate.
Besides, it was a frozen wasteland out there and just too cold. Who would want to go back out and fuss over making dinner?
Feng Mountain shot the three of them a disdainful look. ’If I’d known you’d be this lazy, I’d have brought some of Wawa’s dried shark meat for you.’
The moment he stepped out of the warm tent, the biting wind felt like a thousand icy needles piercing the gap in his collar and jabbing at his neck. The bone-chilling cold made Feng Mountain shiver uncontrollably.
Over by the snowmobile, Lao Liu and another White Wolf were crouched beside the sled.
They were already covered in a layer of fresh snow, but the two White Wolves remained steadfast at their post, diligently guarding the grouse and ptarmigans on the sled.
Feng Mountain always had a soft spot for such hardworking and conscientious ’employees.’ He couldn’t bear to see the two of them freezing in the harsh wind, so he called out.
"Lao Liu, why don’t you two go warm up in the tent?"
AWOO!!
Lao Liu whimpered twice, then rose from the snow and shook its body, sending a flurry of powder into the air. It shook its head a few times, as if in reply to Feng Mountain.
However, it showed no intention of heading for the tent. Instead, it settled back down next to the sled, slowly curling up into a tight ball with its head tucked into its tail. It seemed dead set on staying at its post.
"Alright then." Seeing their resolve, Feng Mountain knew he couldn’t convince them. He shook his head with a sigh, trying to think of another way to make them a bit more comfortable.
He walked over and pulled a large section of the waterproof tarp off the sled, fashioning a small shelter. It wasn’t much, but it was just big enough for the two wolves to crawl under and get out of the wind and snow.
"You two can rest on the sled."
Once that was done, Feng Mountain pulled a dozen or so ptarmigans out from under the tarp and tossed them in front of Lao Liu. "Eat up. This is for today. Tomorrow, we’re hunting reindeer. You’ll get to taste some reindeer meat then."
Lao Liu’s eyes lit up at the sight of the ptarmigans. It snatched one up in its jaws, pinned it down with its paws, and expertly plucked the long feathers with its teeth. It wasn’t bothered by the remaining downy fluff, devouring the bird in just a few bites.
After finishing the first bird, Lao Liu showed some consideration. It nudged half of the remaining ptarmigans over to the other White Wolf with its paw.
Feng Mountain’s heart warmed at the sight. He pulled a few more ptarmigans from the sled and tossed them to the two White Wolves so they could eat their fill.
He then grabbed four or five grouse and headed back to the tent.
As he entered the tent, the warm air hit his animal-hide coat, and wisps of white steam began to rise from the fabric.
The water in the pot on the wood stove was already at a rolling boil, sending up clouds of steam that filled the tent with warm, moist air.
Feng Mountain strode over and tossed the grouse onto the ground in front of the three men warming themselves by the fire.
"Give these grouse a hot bath, and pluck them while you’re at it."
Nash and Yves picked up the grouse, scalded them in the pot of hot water for a minute, and then pulled them out to pluck the feathers.
Scalding the birds made the feathers come off easily. Dealing with the remaining down was even simpler—they just singed it off over the stove’s fire.
Singeing the grouse this way also caused any blood on the skin’s surface to seep out and dry, which helped reduce the gamey taste.
This process also triggers the Maillard reaction. As the grouse cooks over high heat, the proteins and sugars within the meat react to produce a host of aromatic compounds, such as pyrazines, furans, and thiophenes, that create a roasted fragrance.
The aroma of these compounds helps mask the meat’s natural gaminess, making it much less noticeable.
As Nash and Yves focused on singeing the grouse, a faint, savory aroma began to fill the tent, wafting through the warm air.
Feng Mountain wasn’t idle, either. He dug the pre-portioned rice out of his pack, mixed it with a handful of clean snow from outside, and dumped it all into the pot on the stove to cook.
The stove’s fire was blazing, and in no time, the water in the pot was boiling. Bubbles churned, releasing a rich, fragrant steam of cooking rice that filled the tent with a warm and tempting aroma.
"Boss, this one’s burnt!" Yves suddenly called out, holding up a grouse that was golden-brown and glistening with fat.
He must not have controlled the heat quite right, as some parts were slightly charred, but it didn’t ruin the overall look. The golden-brown skin still looked very appetizing.
Feng Mountain put down the potato he was peeling, rummaged through their luggage, and pulled out a skillet. He handed it to Yves, saying, "Chop the grouse into small pieces and start searing them in butter. I’ll take over once I’m done with these potatoes."
"You guys are incredibly capable. I have no idea what I’d do if I were lost out here on the Tundra by myself. I’d probably freeze or starve to death."
Director Roland sighed as he watched the three of them move with practiced skill.
"Your job is shooting movies, not surviving in the wilderness."
Feng Mountain teased him with a lighthearted laugh, his face relaxed and smiling.
’Directors spend their days on set telling people what to do. When would he ever need to worry about how to survive in the wild?’
"Surviving in the wilderness..." Director Roland repeated the words.
Suddenly, as if a thought had struck him, his eyes lit up.
He looked at Feng Mountain, his face beaming with excitement, and said eagerly,
"My friend, have you ever heard of the show *Alone*? I’m good friends with the director. I think you should try out for it. You could win the 500,000 US Dollar grand prize!"
"*Alone*?" Feng Mountain was completely baffled. He shook his head, indicating he’d never heard of the show.
Although Crown Territory had some connection to the outside world, it was still a remote place, and information didn’t travel fast. He wasn’t familiar with many of the popular TV shows from the outside world.
"I’ve heard of it." Yves raised the grouse leg he was holding. "It’s a reality show where contestants have to survive in the wilderness by themselves for 60 days. The last one standing wins 500,000 US Dollars. I thought about trying out, but the conditions are too harsh. I decided against it in the end."
"Just sixty days? What’s so harsh about that? Give me a bow and arrow, and I’d bankrupt the whole production."
Feng Mountain bristled at Yves’s comment, shooting the old veteran a contemptuous glance. ’A survival challenge on a show like that? For me, that’d be a piece of cake.’
"Then it’s settled! I’ll sign you up." Director Roland had been wanting to give Feng Mountain a gift to thank him for taking care of him these past few days, but Feng Mountain didn’t seem to need anything. The director had been racking his brain trying to think of something.
"Sure!"
Feng Mountain assumed Director Roland was just joking, so he readily agreed without giving it a second thought, and went back to cooking dinner.
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