Eric felt a bit like laughing but tried hard to hold it in.
In his previous life, he had seen Westerners use forks to eat noodles, and it was actually quite handy.
It was just that humans in the other world seed to have not yet created a dish like noodles, so naturally, they didn’t know how to use forks to eat sothing both thin and slippery like this.
The male servant brought two branches, thoughtfully washed them clean, and only then handed them to Richard.
Don’t look at Eric and Arthur using them handily; it wasn’t that easy for ordinary people using chopsticks for the first ti.
Richard held his shield and heavy greatsword, yet he couldn’t control these two thin branches no matter what. Anxious because he couldn’t pick up a single piece into his mouth, he speared a large bone to gnaw on.
The sour aroma of pickles blended into the whole dish. The large bone carried the flavor of pickles, not greasy at all. Richard gnawed until his mouth was full of oil, wanting to know the taste of the vermicelli in the pickle soup even more.
Eric looked up. The person having trouble wasn’t just Richard. Corbin and Hugh couldn’t eat the vermicelli either. Thicker vermicelli strands were better; they could barely be eaten.
On the contrary, Old Jack was worthy of being a high-level chef; he used various kitchen utensils skillfully, and forks were no exception.
He tried a few tis unsuccessfully, then thought of using the fork to twirl the potato vermicelli and mung bean vermicelli to eat. Sure enough, this ti he could get it into his mouth.
Vermicelli itself had no taste; its excellence lay in the aroma of the dish. It didn’t feel out of place in any dish, and furthermore, it blended perfectly.
The thicker vermicelli was similar. Regardless of the dish, potato vermicelli and mung bean vermicelli absorbed flavors better than other ingredients.
Unlike the others, Old Jack ate with an attitude like he was appraising. His serious expression made Eric eat sowhat unnaturally too, like he was participating in so competition...
In contrast, Hugh and Corbin, if not restricted by noble etiquette, would probably be eating even faster.
Although they weren’t eating slowly now, how could they compare to the speed of Richard and Arthur? These two were eating directly with their hands.
Seeing the large bones and other dishes in the basin gradually disappearing, Corbin tried to speed up his use of the knife and fork while glaring at Richard.
This was clearly a dish the Little Patriarch of the Hadu tribe made specially for him to advertise potato vermicelli and mung bean vermicelli. It was fine that Hugh ca, but why did this guy Richard have to co to mooch food too!
And that human living with the Snow Wolf people, why did he eat so much too!
Eric only tasted a few bites. Seeing Arthur looking like he wanted to grab everything, he hurriedly pulled Arthur’s hand from under the table, stopping him from continuing to eat.
Are you kidding? Half the food on the table had already gone into Arthur’s stomach; he couldn’t be allowed to continue eating.
He ca here to let Corbin and the others taste the flavor of dishes made from potato vermicelli and mung bean vermicelli so the other party would buy in large quantities later, not to take Arthur on a picnic.
Using all the human kitchen utensils, the amount made wasn’t even enough to fill Arthur halfway.
Old Jack ignored the scramble of the few people, carrying a plate of Garlic Stead Shrimp with Vermicelli by himself. He picked up a piece of shrimp, then ate a mouthful of vermicelli, and his tightly furrowed brows unconsciously relaxed.
Don’t look at his old age; he could eat spicy food. He specifically took a plate sprinkled with chili rings. This was a super spicy chili grown by Eric. After a few mouthfuls, Old Jack’s forehead was sweating.
Eric was a bit worried he couldn’t handle it, so he stood up to find soone to ask for a cup of hot water and placed it in front of Old Jack.
Corbin and the other two fought to finish the remaining plates of Garlic Stead Shrimp with Vermicelli. The shrimp at was fresh and tender, the vermicelli covered in fried garlic; this combination simply made people unable to resist.
Old Jack drank a mouthful of water, put down his knife and fork to rest a bit, his gaze much gentler than at the beginning:
"You are the patriarch here? Indeed, the ingredients of the Illusionary Dream Continent are different from the human continent. Your thods are also very unique; I was too arrogant."
"My cooking skills are just ordinary." Eric wasn’t being humble; his level was just knowing how to cook ho-style dishes, far from being called impressive: "It’s just that the ingredients are good, so simple cooking is also delicious."
The big chefs in his previous life were the impressive ones, with gorgeous carving techniques and cooking skills reaching perfection. How could Eric compare?
It was also because beastn lived too primitively, while humans in the other world were closer to the Western lifestyle, so Eric’s cooking skills seed to stand out.
Old Jack’s expression beca even gentler. The beastman in front of him didn’t look old, dressed neatly and cleanly with a bright smile, and his attitude toward humans was also very friendly, completely different from the image of beastn he had seen.
He discarded his prejudice against beastn, finding Eric more pleasing to the eye the more he looked, and smiled kindly:
"How did you make this dish? I saw you seed to have put the plate in water to cook, but there are no water marks."
Without a stear, Eric simply used branches to support the plate in the pot, which looked from the outside like it was cooked directly.
"This is steaming. Without a stear, I placed so branches in the pot to support the plate, preventing water from spilling in." Eric explained.
"Steaming?" Old Jack repeated. He could understand Eric’s aning, strictly speaking; this word "steaming" was the first ti he had heard it, truly distinct from "boiling".
He felt even more favorably toward this extrely friendly beastman.
Actually, he didn’t have prejudice against beastn; it was just that following that brat Corbin to the Illusionary Dream Continent every year, passing through many beastman tribes, he had also witnessed them cooking with his own eyes. It was like the slaves at the lowest level of human society - crude thods.
Slaves were like that because they had no conditions and could only eat leftovers; filling the stomach was already good. But beastn turned high-level magic beasts into that; Old Jack felt a naless fire rise in his heart every ti he saw it.
He agreed to co to the Illusionary Dream Continent, besides Corbin’s incessant pleading and spending a lot of gold coins, because he wanted to co here to find other ingredients and spark his cooking inspiration.
Beastn were crude, but Old Jack still held a glimr of hope, wanting to find so inspiration from the beastn’s cooking thods. The result, apart from seeing them waste ingredients, was that he gained nothing.
Rare magic beast at and various wild vegetables were collected quite a bit, delicious wild fruits, as well as many delicious fruits and rare spirit fruits in the Monkey tribe’s territory were traded, but there was always a bit of regret in Old Jack’s heart.
Today he originally planned to prepare lunch.
Corbin was very picky and didn’t eat food made by others. Every day, Old Jack specialized in cooking for him and the mage. Richard often ca to Corbin’s place to snatch food, so the portion he prepared was also large.
While directing his disciples to prepare vegetables, a strong aroma assaulted his nose.
In the rchant group, not many people knew how to cook, and rcenaries ate carelessly. Every day at alti, the slls of food in the camp were uneven; in Old Jack’s eyes, they all looked like pig feed.
When the sll beca increasingly fragrant, and the food emitting the aroma also changed from one type to multiple types, Old Jack couldn’t bear it anymore, stepping out of his dedicated tent to start looking for the source of the sll.
Seeing such fragrant dishes made by a young beastman, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.
Moreover, in such a simple environnt, without even any shelter around, he wasn’t afraid of dust or small insects flying into the dishes.
Having such high talent yet cooking without being particular at all, Old Jack’s white beard stood up in anger.
Unlike the fierce, robust, and tall Snow Wolf people he had seen, this cooking beastman was very close to humans, and his attitude wasn’t as vigilant as other beastn, looking very pleasing to the eye.
Hearing the thod "steaming" that he had never heard of, Old Jack’s eyes lit up. Wasn’t this the other cooking thod he wanted to know?
He very much wanted to exchange in-depth about dishes that could use the steaming thod.
As long as he could exchange for a new thod and get so inspiration for new dishes, he would take out his own recipes to exchange.
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