Abnormal Gourmet Chronicle
Chapter 173 - 147 This Master is Worthy_3

Chapter 173: Chapter 147 This Master is Worthy_3

As a main dish, is it necessary to prepare so much?

"Brother Jun, did Zheng Siyuan make too many mooncakes?" Qin Huai asked softly.

Wang Jun glanced over: "Not too many, compared to before, the quantity has actually decreased a lot. He probably considered you being here and with so many snacks, guests won’t order that many fresh meat mooncakes."

Qin Huai: ?

Is Huang Ji’s business that good? He didn’t think so when he came yesterday.

At 11:10, Huang Ji Restaurant officially opened.

Of course, the early arriving guests were already seated by 11, but they could only order from 11:10 onward.

During this period, even though Master Huang rarely came to work and Huang Ji’s prices haven’t lowered, its reputation remained high, attracting many regulars to support it.

After all, who knows, Huang Shengli might suddenly surprise everyone by returning to work.

Former accountant of the now closed cotton mill, Uncle Qian, Qian Zhongheng, came to show his support today.

He didn’t come alone; he brought his whole family, including his wife, son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter. All five members neatly came for a family gathering.

Qian Zhongheng’s son and daughter-in-law even requested an hour off from work to get off early and come.

Qian Zhongheng asked the server for a paper menu, while his son skillfully scanned the QR code to order, grumbling: "Dad, it’s not a holiday or anything, why do you insist that Yuan Yuan and I take time off to eat, it costs us pay for that hour. I just asked the server; Master Huang isn’t here, so it won’t be him cooking today, and we can’t have Three Course Duck or Braised Silver Carp Head."

Daughter-in-law Ma Yuan said nothing, keeping her head down, messaging her boss.

"Your dad ran into Xiao Dong yesterday while shopping; that’s Master Huang’s closed-door disciple. Xiao Dong told your dad that Huang Ji has a new pastry chef, specially brought in from afar by Master Huang. Though he looks young, his skills must be good. So, you’re specially called to enjoy good food, don’t be ungrateful." Qian Zhongheng’s wife, Bai Xiujuan, chimes in.

The son mumbled quietly: "What skills could young people have?"

Yet his hands faithfully navigated to the snack section.

"Five Fillings Bun, Four Happiness Dumplings, Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns, fresh meat mooncake, Dingsheng Cake, Crab Shell Cake, Dream Come True Sesame Bun. There are indeed many new snacks, but how come I’ve never heard of these? Let’s start with four fresh meat mooncakes, last time they were served at a banquet but not generally sold."

"Four Happiness Dumplings... looking pretty fancy, let’s get five."

"Crab Shell Cake... sounds boring, Dream Come True Sesame Bun... who eats buns, let’s leave it at that." The son started ordering other dishes.

The server brought the paper menu to Qian Zhongheng, and he found an added page for pastries. Excitedly, he glanced it over and immediately said: "Not counting the child, order one of each snack per person."

The son exclaimed: "Dad, are you crazy? These snacks aren’t just buns and steamed buns, they’re substantial! Plus, the Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns is 18 bucks a piece! And the Five Fillings Bun is even more outrageous, 65 a piece, it’s almost as pricey as Chengfang Inn!"

"Don’t worry about it, your dad has money," Qian Zhongheng declared, "I’ll cover the bill, order them all, and whatever we can’t finish, your mom and I will have for breakfast tomorrow."

Then Qian Zhongheng turned to ask the server: "Any new dishes?"

"Yes, Mr. Qian, there’s also a new drink, Dried Tangerine Peel Tea, 25 a bowl."

This price didn’t deter the son since drinks at restaurants are usually overpriced.

Qian Zhongheng thought for a moment: "Let’s have three bowls."

The son continued ordering dishes, feeling pained over his dad splurging on unknown, expensive snacks, he hesitated to order more food, being stingy while finally ordering three dishes for the family of five.

Almost immediately after ordering, the Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns arrived.

It just so happened, it was the first batch out of the steamer.

The aroma of the Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns wafted from the kitchen, making the son, who was inwardly questioning Huang Ji’s sanity in serving so many pricey, peculiar snacks, stop worrying. He instinctively craned his neck towards the kitchen, sniffing the air.

Not very dignified.

"What’s that smell? Why does it have a hint of wine in it?"

Qian Zhongheng and Bai Xiujuan also inhaled deeply, but their expressions differed from their son’s, showing both intoxication and remembrance.

"Where did Xiao Huang find this amazing talent?" Qian Zhongheng murmured, "Could it be he has a hidden junior apprentice brother?"

"It’s been years since I’ve smelled this," Bai Xiujuan laughed, "Back then, we couldn’t afford steamed buns, we could only hold a bowl, eating and smelling while watching others eat, making me want to hold a bowl of rice and do it now."

"Fragrant, fragrant," Qian Zhongheng’s 5-year-old granddaughter happily clapped her hands.

The server brought the Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns to Qian Zhongheng’s table, serving them.

Their table was the first and quickest to be served, naturally becoming the center of attention, with several nearby tables asking the server what kind of buns they had, wanting to order some as well.

Qian Zhongheng picked up a bun, broke off a small piece to feed his granddaughter, then took a big bite himself.

It’s that very taste.

The taste from decades ago, of the scent carrying down the whole street, riding a bicycle hard after work, wishing to pedal sparks from the wheels to queue up for the Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns.

It’s the taste igniting memories of each time he went on long business trips, with parents, adhering to the "be generous on the road" principle, queuing up to buy extra buns, packing them into a small iron lunchbox. Even after a day and a night on the train, opening the lunchbox, the buns would fluff back, delicious to chew even with cold water.

It’s been so many years.

Suddenly, Qian Zhongheng realized he hadn’t tasted this in ages, this flavor was like his youth, gone for so many years.

He seemed to understand a bit of Huang Shengli’s intent, the old neighbors who lived here for decades all once dined with the scent of Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns.

Though times have changed, and the state-owned restaurant has closed, turning into Huang Ji Restaurant, and then renaming into Huang Ji Restaurant again. In the hearts of these local people, whether it’s Huang Ji or Huang Ji Restaurant, it will always be that state-owned restaurant, with chefs as Master Jing’s apprentices.

Thinking this way, the previous pastry chef indeed didn’t quite match the status of this establishment.

This chef is worthy.

Not bad, Huang Shengli has a good eye.

Looking up, Qian Zhongheng saw his hopelessly gluttonous son had already devoured a bun at lightning speed, leaving none for his granddaughter.

The son, still licking his lips hungrily, said: "Dad, let’s buy another 10 buns!"

"What we don’t finish today, we can keep for breakfast tomorrow."

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