Eric cut a piece of soft, fatty bird at. The kitchen knife in his hand danced quickly, and soon he had cut the at into evenly sized, neat squares.
Bird at used for braising certainly couldn’t compare to pork belly, but he felt this bird’s fat layer was quite thick, and the at wasn’t dry like typical wild chicken. Made into a braised dish, the flavor probably wouldn’t be bad. He found a few weeds by the roadside, wove them into a rope, and then tied a cross shape on each piece of at.
There were many recipes for braised at on the internet. The thod Eric was most familiar with was to briefly sear the at until the edges browned, and after the fat rendered, add a splash of white wine to remove the gay sll.
Far from ho, there were no fresh onions or garlic; he could only use onion and garlic powder as substitutes. Fortunately, the at was very fresh and didn’t require many complicated spices.
The at, having rendered its fat, was poured into a ceramic pot, and then boiling water was added. Cooking with boiling water would help the at beco more tender.
Eric used another pot to make a caral coloring sauce and poured it into the ceramic pot, adding a little soy sauce for better color. Next, he just left it there to simr slowly.
Both of these dishes needed to be stewed for a long ti. A ceramic pot used for this type of dish would preserve the delicious flavor better than an iron pan.
He put both dishes in the stew pots. On the other side, Michael had already lted the ice to clean the innards.
Of poultry organs, Eric had only ever eaten duck intestines and duck gizzards. The heart and liver were also edible, but he had never tried them. This large bird was probably similar, so he had Michael keep these parts and wash them, while the rest was thrown far away.
The thin intestines were best added only when the dish was almost cooked; cooking them too early would make them lose their characteristic crunchiness.
The duck and chicken gizzards he had eaten before were actually the stomach. This part was quite tough and difficult to cook, so Eric cut it into pieces and added it to both ceramic pots to stew with the at.
Slling the aroma of the braised bird wings with abalone, which seed to go well together, Eric also added a few abalones to the pot of braised at to stew.
He seed to have glimpsed these two recipes sowhere before. Ever since seeing the abalone for the first ti, he had thought of this combination. Unexpectedly, the sll was indeed not bad.
Whichever deity had invented this combination of at from three types of animals—from the sea, land, and sky—was truly a genius.
Especially the magic beast at of this world; its flavor was far more delicious than any at he had eaten in his previous life. To say this ordinary ho-style dish was fragrant for ten miles was not an exaggeration.
This also made Eric’s confidence explode; he almost felt he had the potential to beco a great chef.
Among the Beastn, him calling himself the number one chef would be absolutely no problem. He just didn’t know what the cuisine of other races was like.
Like the Elf race, for example. Eric felt that such an elegant and beautiful race seed to grow up eating only dew and flowers.
After eating several seafood als, although it was delicious, he still felt unsatisfied.
Eric always felt that since turning into a Snow Wolf, his eating habits had also changed. He had now beco soone who wasn’t happy without at.
If he were still a lowly office worker, how could he have such a good appetite? Nor would he be like an urban specter every day, riding a small electric scooter, winding through every nook and cranny searching for delicious food.
But after all, he still had human genes in his body. If conditions permitted, he still wanted to eat so staple food.
Fernting dough wasn’t convenient. When leaving, Eric hadn’t thought to bring a bit of old starter, so he just kneaded a lump of dough.
When the two dishes in the ceramic pots were almost ready, he rolled the dough into noodles.
The yellow breadfruit flour produced noodles that looked like egg noodles. The aroma of the flour was rich, and they were very chewy.
Michael, who had been busy for half a day, finally got to eat the fruits of his labor.
Eric served him a full bowl of noodles, pouring a ladle of the braised at and abalone on one side, and adding the braised bird wings and abalone on the other.
"Ta-da! The two-flavor mixed noodles are ready!" Eric smiled brightly, carrying the bowl over to Michael.
Plucking bird feathers for half a day and having to wash the stinky innards, he had really worked hard.
The corners of Michael’s mouth almost split to his ears.
Not just because he got to eat noodles, which he hadn’t had in a long ti, but Eric’s acknowledgnt today also made him very happy!
Especially the triumphant glance towards Max, which made him feel ecstatic inside.
Eric knew these two were like children, always liking to compete, so he imdiately scooped a bowl for Max.
Sotis he even suspected if he had really read this novel. This was clearly a "married first, love later" story with two strong protagonists.
In the original story, Max didn’t want to accept the original owner, so he told Thomas and Luci that he would rather be mates with Michael, just to refuse the original owner.
While the original owner continuously caused trouble, the two of them went through many hardships together, and from that, feelings gradually developed between them.
In the later stages, the two united to fight against the oppressing Golden Kingdom. Through Leo, they made the other side give up the intention of waging war again, and then the two began their sweet days of traveling across the continent...
Eric looked suspiciously at the two main characters, feeling like he had been scamd.
His mind wandered as he picked up so noodles for himself.
The braised at lted in his mouth with just a light bite; even the lean at didn’t linger long. A piece of at as large as his palm was gone in just a few bites. The abalone stewed in it had a rich flavor and a delicious, chewy texture.
This was also the first ti Eric had eaten abalone this fresh and large. He rembered abalone was divided into several types; the large abalone in this bowl was even bigger than a "one-head" abalone. Should it be called a "half-head" abalone?
The absurd thought suddenly popping up made Eric laugh at himself. Worried the other two would think sothing was wrong with his head, he tried to suppress his laughter.
The flavor of the braised bird wings with abalone was also very rich, but different from the braised at. The skin and at were chewy and delicious, the at inside was soaked with sauce, and the wings had been briefly fried, helping them hold the sauce even better.
Eric didn’t need to use much effort to gnaw; with just a light suck, the at fell off the bone. The bird gizzard was both crispy and chewy. The bird intestines, added at the end, made a crunching sound when eaten, incredibly crispy.
Both of these dishes, whichever one it was, made it impossible to stop eating. Eric ate the soft potatoes and sweet cabbage, giving himself a ’like’ in his heart.
The thick sauce from the dish mixed with the noodles, coating every strand. The noodles were chewy and delicious. One bowl filled Eric’s stomach.
While gnawing on a wing, he looked admiringly at the two Snow Wolf "rice buckets" who were eating bowl after bowl.
...
Inside the tent, the young man lying unconscious on the fur mattress, his tightly closed eyes twitched slightly.
Waves of alluring aroma wafted into the tent. A mont later, the young man’s fingers also twitched.
Eric thought of the pot of ground corn porridge that had been cooked until very soft. To free up the ceramic pot for cooking rice, he had just poured the porridge into a stone basin and brought it into the tent.
After eating strongly flavored food, he wanted a bowl of porridge to cleanse his palate, so he went into the tent to get it.
At this mont, the young man’s eyes began to flutter frequently, his forehead covered in cold sweat. His long, raven-like eyelashes cast a faint shadow on his pale face.
When Eric entered the tent, he couldn’t help but look at the young man first. It couldn’t be helped, he had a weakness for handso faces, and it was also to conveniently observe his condition.
Just then, he saw the young man’s eyes moving. Could he be about to wake up?
Eric happily ran over and squatted down beside the young man, staring at him without blinking.
Seeing his forehead covered in sweat and his face showing discomfort, Eric found a soft cotton cloth and carefully wiped the sweat for him.
The young man’s mouth began to softly speak words that Eric didn’t understand; his tone sounded very urgent.
As his voice grew louder, he suddenly snapped his eyes open and gripped Eric’s wrist tightly with one hand.
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