Gourmet: From a Stall in Northern Europe Chapter 478 - 390: The Ordinary and Advanced Versions Are Ju

This ti, they didn’t just try one and stop; instead, they reached out for a second salted egg yolk bun, wanting to see what it felt like to consu two portions at once.

Typically, with a completely new flavor like this, the novelty is only thrilling for the first few bites. As you eat more, the novelty fades and the flaws slowly beco apparent.

Although Raphael and Nagishiro Sho aren’t officially Michelin Chefs yet, their practical experience isn’t much less than Marchello’s; they’ve simply not completed all the formalities.

The trio’s intuition was spot on. The dessert made with salted egg yolk was indeed amazing, but not suitable for overindulgence.

When they were halfway through the second bun, they could clearly feel a slight greasiness setting in.

This greasiness wasn’t the sweetness of eating too much sugar, but the oily richness from high fat intake in a short period, commonly referred to as "overpowering" or "head splitting."

They quickly drank a few sips of ice-cold cola to suppress that sensation, restoring clarity to their minds.

The greasy feeling was subdued, but the sandy texture of the salted egg yolk still lingered on their tongues—quite unusual.

The fourth dessert they encountered was sothing they’d never seen before. It looked like it had been wrapped in neatly ford crispy noodle strips before being baked, presenting a series of tight circular lines on its surface.

One bite, and it was just as they imagined: the surface’s crispy pastry crumbled delightfully, each strand offering a separate layer of crunchiness that, when combined, multiplied the crispiness exponentially, akin to the finesse of a Napoleon pastry.

Marchello was amazed by the filling in the center, eyes wide with surprise.

"Is this really a durian-filled dessert?"

"The typical durian odor almost vanishes after baking, leaving just its inherent sweetness. When lted and combined with the buttery surface, it creates a creamy, fruity, appealing texture. Interesting, very interesting."

"What? Durian-filled??"

Upon hearing the word, the corner of Raphael’s mouth twitched.

The thought of making durian pizza tomorrow was still lodged in his mind, and now he was hit with a sudden surprise tonight.

Durian pastry rolls?

Theoretically, about eighty percent of its ingredients resemble those in durian pizza.

But now Marchello said it tasted good. Does that an tomorrow’s durian pizza might actually taste decent too?

"Seriously? You better not be falsely advertising!"

Having recently tried fresh durian, Raphael was a bit skeptical that it could make a tasty pizza. Suspiciously, he picked up a piece of durian pastry and bit into it.

"Crunch, crunch, crunch,"

The surface’s coiled pastry flaked off madly, and the soft durian flesh inside, mixed with buttery aroma, gushed out like cream, hot and sweet, with fragrance everywhere.

There’s really not a hint of the usual stench?

In disbelief, he brought the durian pastry up to his nose for a sniff.

With that sniff, he instantly caught that fatal odor again.

"Ugh..."

Raphael retched twice, quickly pulling it away, then thought it over and found it peculiar, taking another bite.

"Ah, so that’s how it works, I understand now!"

The characteristic of durian is that it slls foul but tastes sweet. Encasing it within pastry effectively locks in the odor, with the pastry’s buttery aroma masking it.

Since you eat it straight away, bypassing the slling step, and because chewing in the mouth creates a sort of special filter effect, you don’t catch the foul sll at all.

When the food is swallowed, slling the durian filling separately brings out that unique stench again.

This thod could very well serve as a beginner’s trick for diners wanting to try durian.

As a Westerner, he understood even better than Lin Chen how picky and stubborn Western diners could be.

Most people stick to a fixed diet all their lives and have an innate resistance to trying new foods.

The few willing to be adventurous might still back out due to visual, taste, tactile, or even psychological reasons.

No matter how delicious a food is, if it doesn’t align with their preferences in appearance, most people won’t touch it.

Just like the various organ ats they’ve tried before.

Not to ntion terrifying things like pig brains—even tripe and stomach, rely saying their nas would prompt ninety-five percent of guests to refuse on the spot.

After all, in English or French, these parts lack euphemized nas, being directly referred to by their anatomical terms.

Like intestines being called "pig intestine" and tripe being "cow stomach," for those who never eat offal, just hearing such terms is enough to provoke nausea, erasing any desire to try them.

Imaginative guests might even ask, "What’s the difference between eating pig intestine and pig excrent?"

"What’s the difference between eating cow stomach and cow vomit?"

Such thoughts only amplify the aversion further.

In short, it boils down to two words: challenging.

Durian is subject to the sa reasoning.

Even though it’s just a fruit, its taste sweet and fragrant with rich nutritional value.

So what?

It’s simply too slly.

Just a whiff from several ters away is enough to deter most newcors.

Even he almost gave up at first.

The fifth snack was sothing similar, with a filling of date paste, a fairly common ingredient for Westerners.

I wonder if it’s because the durian is overly sweet, the date paste tasted bland in comparison, not sweet at all, and even a bit bland.

"Has everyone finished the first round of tasting?"

While everyone was dividing up the desserts, Zhao Shun devoured the leftovers of his own al as if it were a whirlwind.

Seeing there was little left in the baking trays, no one else made a move to take more. He wiped his mouth, stood up, and glanced at the ti on his phone.

"Hmm?"

Lucas’s eyes lit up, "What does that an, there’s a second round?"

"Of course, these are just very basic flavors, really just a foundation for these foreigners to get used to the typical taste profile of our Chinese-style desserts."

With an air of justification, Zhao Shun turned to head toward the kitchen, not forgetting to drop a few hints to Lucas.

"Although what I’m making today has nothing to do with Suzhou-style pastries, they’re still so of the popular desserts in our Great Xia in recent years, truly sothing that can’t be found in other countries. Let them see for themselves!"

It’s not that he didn’t want to make Suzhou-style pastries, it’s just that their preparation is too complicated and ti-consuming, impossible to whip up on short notice.

He could only prepare a few relatively simple snacks for now.

Lucas repeated his words verbatim to the others, and everyone’s face showed deep anticipation, even the three chefs were not exempt.

They initially thought that desserts from Great Xia wouldn’t be as impressive as the dishes, expecting them to be primarily light and subtle in flavor.

Yet after eating, they were told these were just the basics, to help them acclimate?

Cheeky!

Now that Zhao Shun had left, it seed he wasn’t planning to return anyti soon.

Lin Chen was almost done, having worked for nearly two hours, which was about enough.

Although there were still many novel ingredients he hadn’t presented, life is like that, full of little regrets.

If the three chefs didn’t plan on leaving for the ti being, there might still be a chance to taste them.

So fresh ingredients couldn’t be stored for long and needed to be processed promptly.

So opened ingredients also had to be used up in the next couple of days.

This unexpected batch of ingredients had completely disrupted his plans for both tomorrow and the following days’ market stall and buffet plans, which all had to be revised.

The quantity of each ingredient wasn’t large, their strength was in the variety, so it wasn’t feasible to mass-produce the sa food.

Doing a buffet wouldn’t work, unless it was set up like a blind box, with different items throughout the day.

But he needed to taste each ingredient personally to report back to Wang Aiguo later.

While contemplating a compromise, he stirred the boiling water in the pot with a spatula, pouring in two large bags of glutinous rice balls.

The frozen rice balls sank to the bottom but quickly floated up along the swirling vortex, their surfaces quickly turning semi-transparent.

"Making a soup?"

The three idle chefs and Jonathan gathered around, curiously staring into the large pot in front of him, then shifting their attention to a few glass bottles on the table.

The bottles were filled with densely packed rice grains soaking in liquid, it was hard to tell what it was.

It certainly couldn’t be just plain rice.

Lin Chen continued stirring a few more tis to make sure the small rice balls wouldn’t clump together, then set the spatula aside and casually picked up a bottle, twisting open the lid.

"Pop~"

With a soft hiss of air, Nagishiro Sho’s nostrils flared and his eyebrows lifted: "Rice wine?"

He had a faint feeling when he first saw the rice grains in the jar, now slling the subtle alcohol aroma in the air confird his suspicions.

Brewing rice wine was also popular in Sakura Country, but they usually didn’t keep the rice grains in it like this.

These bottles of rice wine looked like the rice was steeped in liquid for ferntation and then sealed, essentially sold as a semi-finished product.

If it were pressed and filtered several tis, the result should be pure rice wine.

Though he hadn’t tasted it before, this was his best guess.

He finished off his cola as he passed over his empty cup.

Seeing this, Raphael, Marchello, and Jonathan had a collective realization, quickly downing the rest of their colas.

"?"

Lin Chen curiously stared at the four empty cups extending toward him, blinking as he looked down at the wine he was holding.

Did they want to drink this?

Well, why not.

This was technically a form of rice wine, and as chefs, wanting to taste the raw ingredients made perfect sense.

He spooned two scoops of wine into each of their cups and watched as they all swirled the ice cubes around, letting them mix well with the wine, before tilting their heads back to savor the flavor of the brew.

"How does it taste?"

He asked casually, pouring the remaining half of the jar into the pot in front of him.

Seeing him do this, Raphael and Marchello’s expressions froze, casting puzzled looks at each other.

Nagishiro Sho coughed awkwardly.

"It’s... it’s not bad."