I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses! Chapter 385: Culinary Exchange

Entering the tent, Eric glanced around. He didn’t see Corbin, but not far away, Hugh could be seen directing male servants to work. The tents of the Wind Mage Phai and Henry, whom he had t last ti, were both quiet.

Especially Henry. After such a big incident in the camp last ti, Eric hadn’t seen him show his face.

Returning to his senses, he had already stepped inside the tent.

Jack’s tent was a size larger than the others, not inferior to Corbin’s, showing that Corbin valued him highly.

Inside the tent, besides so simple and tidy furniture, it was connected to another tent, where various pots and pans could be faintly seen.

Having lived as a beastman for a while, Eric was used to getting straight to the point. Even in his past life, he wasn’t good at socializing, so he said directly:

"Master Jack, I am not the powerful chef you imagine, nor do I have any recipes. I only know how to make ordinary dishes. I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you."

Jack’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes held a few more hints of appreciation.

Having t many young people who beca arrogant with just a little skill, he had a very good impression of this humble yet confident beastman and didn’t feel disappointed.

"Your way of cooking is very special. Cooking is like cultivation; no one stipulates that one must use complex and exquisite techniques to call it cooking. In my opinion, you are stronger than many chefs I know."

These words made Eric a bit embarrassed. He smiled shyly: "Thank you for your praise."

In the end, he was taking advantage of being a transmigrator from a country with a rich culinary culture. Many cooking thods he considered common had never been discovered or utilized by anyone here.

Comparing cooking skills seriously, Eric hadn’t even successfully made bread, so he certainly wasn’t equal to the master chefs here. It was just that his use of ingredients felt fresh to people.

Since he entered the door, Jack hadn’t paid any attention to Richard; his focus was all on Eric. Seeing him so straightforward, Jack stopped beating around the bush: "The stead dish you ntioned that day, can it make other dishes?"

"Of course, for example, pyramid rice dumplings, rolled rice pancakes, stead buns, honeycomb cakes, and also dumplings. These main dishes all need to be stead. Besides, there are stead fish, stead eggs, pearl atballs, and stead pork with rice flour, among many others. Stead dishes are also very diverse."

Speaking of stead dishes, their taste was lighter compared to stir-fried dishes, and they were also healthier.

Hearing this series of unfamiliar dish nas, Richard recalled the food Eric made that day and couldn’t help swallowing.

The egg yolks were like yellow clouds; under the rapid stirring of the round silver rod, the color beca lighter and lighter, and rich bubbles erged.

A human-shaped egg mixer.

Tara swung his arm vigorously, sweat on his forehead dripping down his cheeks like rain. After a while, his clothes were completely soaked.

Eric finally understood why an apprentice to a chef would have such a burly, tall physique; it turned out it was used for this.

Observing Old Jack closely for a while, he was surprised to discover that under the loose white robe, Old Jack also possessed powerful muscles and a vigorous spirit, not looking at all like an old man over sixty.

A pastry chef, though it sounded soft, was actually a job requiring real physical strength in this era. There were no electric mixers here.

To be able to research so many pastries under these conditions, this level-five chef was indeed a formidable character.

Eric suddenly started calculating; if he asked the Dwarves to make a magic-powered mixer, it would surely sell very well...

"Faster, I already taught you, the ti taken to beat the yolks and whites must not differ too much, otherwise the egg whites that have already been beaten stiff will go to waste!"

When teaching his apprentice, Old Jack was so strict that he reminded Eric of an old acquaintance: his high school horoom teacher.

The movents of Tara’s hands beca a few degrees faster.

Richard crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen door, lazily chewing on a blade of grass while watching the show.

Not wanting to interfere in the master-disciple business, Eric lowered his head to marinate the ribs and sliced at.

It was embarrassing to say, but compared to Old Jack’s complex pastry process, his dishes were all very simple.

The Halun rchant group had everything. Eric had asked for so rice and ground it into powder. Since there was no ti to soak it until soft, he put the powder in a basin and stead it in a water bath to cook it.

The glutinous rice for the pearl atballs was treated similarly; stead briefly once, not fully cooked, as it wouldn’t work if it was too soft. (This dish is from Hunan, don’t ask why I favor Hunan and Sichuan, it’s just because I only watch channels from these two places, hehe :D)

Actually, whether it was rice powder or glutinous rice, it was best to soak it overnight when eating at ho, but Eric needed it urgently, so he had to use this temporary thod.

Today he intended to make pearl atballs, stead ribs with rice powder, and stead at with rice powder. In exchange, Old Jack intended to teach him how to make cloud chiffon cake and cheesecake first.

These two types of cakes were relatively simple to learn. For those overly complex pastries with cumberso steps, Old Jack was worried Eric couldn’t learn them, so he started teaching the simplest ones.

That’s right, although gold coins were attractive, Eric still chose the pastry recipes.

The tribe could basically trade for all necessary supplies now, and they even had a surplus; it was no longer like before when they lacked everything. Eric’s intention to earn gold coins was not as urgent as before.

Compared to gold coins, the tribe’s new herd of cows produced over three tons of milk every day, and how to consu it was also a problem.

Besides chewy yogurt, he still rembered how to make butter and ice cream, but as for cakes and various types of bread, Eric couldn’t rember. Back when there was the internet, he didn’t even bother learning because he could step outside and buy a whole basketful, let alone now with nothing in hand, how could he rember?

When ingredients were plentiful, having more pastry recipes was certainly better. Who could refuse a piece of soft, sweet cake lting right in the mouth after a al?

Eric wanted to earn gold coins to provide his clansn with a better life; exchanging pastry recipes was for the sa reason. Moreover, these baking recipes had all been improved by Old Jack; money couldn’t buy them.

Thinking this, the movents of his hands didn’t stop, holding a cleaver and ceaselessly mincing at.

Old Jack’s knives were exquisite and nurous, it was just that Eric wasn’t used to using them. These knives all leaned towards the long and narrow Western style, lacking the cleaver he was accustod to using.

But they could be used temporarily; Old Jack was also very particular about knives, and they were very sharp. It was just that they were made by human blacksmiths and used for cooking, so they certainly couldn’t compare to the cleaver specially forged by Luban.

After mincing the at, he added pepper powder, eggs, salt, and scallions. There was no soy sauce here; Eric rummaged through Old Jack’s kitchen and found a bottle of brown sauce, tasting a little bit of it.

The salty-sweet taste was palatable and very fresh, so he poured a little in.

Old Jack specially allowed him to use everything in the kitchen. His little apprentice, Tara, was about to die of jealousy. Studying for so many years, he didn’t have the autonomy to use these spices. These were all things the teacher collected from various places; so were made by the teacher using rare ingredients, so were exchanged with other chefs; in short, they were very precious.

Eric was focusing on cooking and didn’t see Tara’s jealous gaze; his hand applied force, pasting the mixed minced at to make it chewier.