Finally, Wang Jun couldn’t watch any longer.
"Xiao He, I’ll keep an eye on it, you go help Dong Shi cut the bamboo shoots."
Xiao He dashed away swiftly.
Qin Huai was still pondering.
Seeing this, Wang Jun directly asked, "Is there sothing wrong with the filling Xiao He cooked?"
"No." Qin Huai shook his head, "I just noticed he has a little habit when cooking the filling."
Already at the sink washing his hands, Xiao He perked up his ears.
"When cooking the filling for the Three at Buns, at the final stage, you could say it’s when simring on low heat to reduce the juice, you’re supposed to cover it with a lid for one or two minutes. When he unveils the cover, he doesn’t open it directly but first cracks it open a little to sniff before slowly uncovering it," Qin Huai said.
Wang Jun felt it might be because of his lack of comprehension, as he didn’t understand what Qin Huai was trying to express, so he tentatively asked, "Is there a problem with that?"
To Wang Jun, this seed simply like a personal habit of Xiao He.
Every chef has their own habits, and these habits often accompany them throughout their lives, becoming unchangeable.
For example, Huang Jia has a bit of OCD, insisting on washing the pan and spatula twice every ti they change dishes, and the spatula must be dried thoroughly.
Dong Shi likes to chat while working, often losing focus, so he prefers to finish what he considers the hardest tasks first.
These are all well-known habits in Huang’s Kitchen, along with so lesser-known ones. For instance, Wang Jun himself doesn’t like eating or cutting eggplants, and every ti he’s cutting vegetables, he will deliberately avoid eggplants, cutting them only if absolutely necessary.
Of course, this is a small habit known only to Wang Jun himself. For all these years, he has been a small, unnoticed presence in Huang’s Kitchen, among the direct disciples, he remains the most ordinary and least promising.
Without others’ attention, naturally, nobody notices his small habits.
"There’s nothing wrong, I’m just rely curious why it’s done this way," Qin Huai said.
In video tutorials, Jiang Wei also has similar actions.
It’s just that Jiang Wei was cooking in a large pot, the kind used in rural kitchens with a heavy wooden lid.
Because the cookware is large, this action appears particularly conspicuous.
"Because... when I was a child, I lived in the countryside with my grandparents, and every ti she simred rice, my grandma would open the lid this way," Xiao He said weakly as he passed by, "According to my grandma, whether it’s vegetables or rice, it only becos fragrant after simring for a minute or two."
"Opening the lid this way keeps the heat from escaping, and you can first sll if it’s fragrant from the side. If it isn’t, you cover it again and simr for two more minutes."
"I’ve gotten used to it over the years; as long as it’s simred, I must sll it first."
Qin Huai felt suddenly enlightened.
Indeed, whether the filling of the Three at Buns is fragrant or not is quite important.
The reason the bun filling is cooked is that the cooked filling tastes and slls good.
He can not only judge the cooking quality by looking at the filling’s texture, timing, and state but also by the fragrance at the mont of lifting the lid after simring.
Whether it’s dishes or snacks, appearance, fragrance, and taste are all essential, and fragrance is a crucial part of snacks.
Often, chefs not only need a good tongue but also a good nose.
Qin Huai realized he learned another small technique for cooking fillings.
Qin Huai returned to kneading dough.
At 10:30 in the morning, Huang Ji hadn’t opened yet, but diners who hadn’t tasted the Fernted Rice with Stead Buns for six days were already impatiently seated in the dining hall.
To many loyal diners living nearby, it’s no secret that Qin Huai lives in the neighborhood opposite Huang Ji.
Yesterday, many saw Qin Huai wandering around nearby, and many neighbors were gearing up early at ho, preparing for the midday bun scramble.
So with a bit more money planned to have lunch directly at Huang Ji, enjoying dishes and snacks alike.
Even so who lived far away and whose workplaces were also far, who usually relied on delivery services to enjoy snacks, heard of Qin Huai’s scheduled return today and had called for delivery early.
The leader at Huang Ji skillfully entered a state of preparation.
In the kitchen, Qin Huai leisurely kneaded dough and prepared fillings according to his rhythm, keeping his phone in his pocket with the volu on.
Qin Huai usually left his phone in the locker room.
Huang Ji didn’t restrict phones in the kitchen, but chefs are usually busy and noisy during work. Unless deliberately slacking off to play with the phone in a corner, there’s typically no ti for phones during work other than answering calls.
Today, Qin Huai kept his phone with him because he had told Cheng Gong yesterday to co to Huang Ji for lunch to try so snacks, and he had prepared a special trial for Cheng Gong.
Although Cheng Gong’s side mission didn’t require anything special, just that his boss should shine at his son’s birthday banquet, Qin Huai thought a little gesture of goodwill wouldn’t hurt.
Their executive assistants have an excellent annual salary.
The future is promising.
Moreover, Cheng Gong’s side mission is so abstract that Qin Huai feels his ntal state might be even more bizarre than Gong Liang’s, fitting well with what Luo Jun and Chen Huihong said — influenced by residual mories across several lifetis, oscillating between normal and madness, appearing overly obsessive, potentially perceived by others as problematic in ntal state.
With spirits in such a state, gaining more goodwill surely won’t go wrong.
Qin Huai told Cheng Gong to ssage him upon arrival.
Unclear about Cheng Gong’s taste, and under the guise of a trial, Qin Huai prepared many dishes.
Crab Shell Cake, Three at Buns, sticky rice cake, Lard Rice Cake (the rice cake was prepared by Zheng Siyuan yesterday and brought over), jujube and yam cake, Four Happiness Dumplings, Dream Co True Sesa Bun, apple dough ball, Green Bean Cake, and regular glutinous rice shumai.
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