欧美综合亚洲日韩精品区

The two people had different plating methods.

Zhao Shan chose a Nordic rectangular dish, with five shrimps lined up in the same direction, forming a straight line. The sauce was thick, its color leaning towards red, as tomato sauce’s redness cast an unusual hue over the shrimp. The sprinkle of chopped green onions on top seemed fine at a glance, with no issues in fooling those who were less knowledgeable.

For example, Han Guishan, he was completely fooled.

Zhao Shan’s eggplant shrimp was the first to be served, and upon seeing it, he exclaimed, “It looks quite tasty!”

The other four experts just smiled without saying a word.

“This is Guangdong cuisine,” Zhu Chang reminded.

“Guangdong cuisine?” Han Guishan, a pretend Guangdong Province man, was stunned, then came to a realization. Hedidn’t know what tomato sauce was when he left Guangdong Province—it must be a new dish, definitely a new one.

Comforting himself, Han Guishan picked up a shrimp covered in eggplant sauce.

The sauce was too thick, dripping down the shrimp. The moment he tasted it, the flavor of tomato sauce was incredibly strong, even overwhelming the shrimp’s own flavor.

After finishing his portion of shrimp, Han Guishan felt puzzled. Were Guangdong cuisines like this now? His son might like this dish, considering Han Youxin, the chubby kid, wouldn’t turn down anything and could gulp down a whole bottle of tomato sauce. But Han Guishan, as a middle-aged entrepreneur in his fifties, found it hard to accept such an intense tomato sauce flavor.

He glanced at the other judges, unable to read their expressions.

Han Guishan hesitated, but still gave his score.

The score came out: 8.1 points.

It was underwhelming.

Zhao Shan faked a smile, indicating he was in a good state of mind and could lose gracefully.

The empty plate was cleared away, and Zhang Guanghang’s eggplant sauce shrimp was served.

The staff, Miss, wore a standard smile and placed the dish steadily in front of the judges.

Zhang Guanghang used a traditional round plate, arranging the shrimps in a blooming circle. The sauce was thin, lightly coating the shrimp in a ring, leaving the plate clean. Thanks to using the spatula to press down on the shrimp heads during deep-frying, the color of the shrimp was both red and bright.

“Why do their eggplant sauce shrimp look so different?” Zhang Xi asked, puzzled, from the rest area.

“Their methods are different,” Jiang Feng explained, “Zhao Shan removed the shrimp veins by cutting the back, relying entirely on the tomato sauce for color since he didn’t press down on the shrimp heads. Zhang Guanghang used a toothpick to devein, he cut the shrimp bellies open, used thinly applied sauce, so the appearance is quite different.”

Zhang Guanghang made eight shrimps.

“Not bad,” Pei Shenghua praised.

“Indeed not bad,” Zhu Chang agreed.

“Quite not bad,” Han Guishan followed suit, pleased since Zhang Guanghang had made eight shrimps, and he could have four to himself.

Compared to Zhao Shan’s shrimp in eggplant sauce with its strong tomato taste, Zhang Guanghang’s shrimp in eggplant sauce used tomato sauce as a standard seasoning to enhance flavors, not overpowering the shrimp’s natural sweetness. The green leaves complemented the red flowers.

“Is Zhao Shan not skilled at making shrimp in eggplant sauce? Why would two Shandong chefs compete in this?” Jianguo couldn’t grasp the rationale behind this move.

“Maybe he thinks he’s quite skilled at it? There aren’t many Guangdong cuisine restaurants in Beiping, right?” Jiankang guessed.

“Shrimp in eggplant sauce is a specialty of Eight-treasure House,” Jiang Zaidi said, recalling the good old days, “At least it was 5 years ago. Back then, I went to Eight-treasure House with my ex-girlfriend when we visited Beiping. It was all tomato sauce flavor, but she liked it.”

Everyone was surprised. Jiang Zaidi, the fattest among the younger generation of the Jiang Family, had never revealed that he once had a girlfriend.

“Back then, I was only 203 pounds, and I went to the gym every day; of course, I had a girlfriend!” Jiang Zaidi declared, his neck stiffening, “I even met her at the gym!”

“What happened then? Why did you break up?” Aunt inquired curiously.

“Later, I hit 240 pounds, and she successfully slimmed down to 110 pounds, so we broke up,” Jiang Zaidi said expressionlessly.

On stage, Han Guishan began eating the last shrimp.

He was still longing for more as if he wished for another ten more.

Zhang Guanghang’s score was also revealed, a 9.2 points, setting off applause, cheers, and screams that didn’t even try to hide their indifference to Zhao Shan’s feelings, comparable to a large-scale concert venue.

Finally, it was time for the thrilling moment of the judges’ commentary.

The five judges each had their own unique traits.

Tong Deyan was clear about what he liked and disliked, spoke frankly, and was straightforward.

Zang Mu seldom spoke; his entire demeanor exuded an air of disinterest that said it was none of my business, none of your business, none of anybody’s business.

As the peacemaker, Zhu Chang sat next to Han Guishan, responsible for explaining various common sense questions to the financier father.

Pei Shenghua was the most talkative, a typical chatterbox who felt the need to comment on everything, even when there was nothing to say.

Han Guishan, the financier father, understood nothing about cooking; he was just there to eat.

The conciliatory Zhu Chang was the first to speak, “Both contestants’ tomato sauce prawns are quite good; each has its own flavor, and the plating is exquisite. The cooking techniques are also very clean and swift. However, when compared, Zhang Guanghang’s tomato sauce prawns have the edge, with better fire control and flavor.”

“From a professional chef’s perspective, Zhang Guanghang’s tomato sauce prawns are certainly superior, with evenly thickened sauce, and the prawns are more flavorful due to the deep cuts. I observed your cooking process, and both of you did quite well. Zhao Shan, your fire control was also very good, but you added too much tomato sauce, which almost overshadowed the natural taste of the prawns. Of course, they were still very good; both of you were very good to make it to the national top eight. You’re incredibly talented young chefs to have such culinary skills in your twenties. The future holds no limits for you,” said Pei Shenghua with a smile.

“You chose the wrong dish,” stated Zang Mu, not as friendly as the others. “Tomato sauce prawns don’t suit you, especially Zhao Shan—it’s neither here nor there.”

Zhao Shan’s forced smile became even more strained.

“Both of you underperformed today, especially Zhao Shan. Your tomato sauce prawns made me doubt how you made it to the national top eight. It’s obvious none of you are skilled at this dish. I thought today’s competition would be exciting, but I’m a bit disappointed,” Tong Deyan was unsparingin his comments, and since he didn’t have a good relationship with Eight-treasure House, he didn’t feel inclined to be gracious.

Zhao Shan struggled to keep a smile.

“Hmm, it all tasted pretty good; I just prefer the one in the back,” Han Guishan chortled.

The female host interjected cheerfully to smooth things over, “As everyone can see, some of our judges are quite strict. They point out every tiny mistake made by our contestants—an eye for detail truly befitting of masters in the industry.” “Let’s congratulate Zhang Guanghang once again for advancing to the national top four!”

The audience erupted with thunderous applause.

“Next, the second pair of contestants is Jiang Feng and Zhang Xi. Their drawn theme is sweet porridge, and the competition’s dish is eight-treasure porridge. Our staff have already cleaned up the cooking stations, and both contestants may now approach the stage to prepare. The competition starts in three minutes.”

Zhang Guanghang and Zhao Shan walked toward the rest area. Zhao Shan had adjusted his attitude, smiling serenely and composedly, looking utterly unruffled. He only had to wait until he was back in the rest area for someone to console him, then he could casually and humbly respond with, “The better chef won, it’s my loss,” showing Zhang Guanghang that he was not preoccupied with winning or losing.

Such a perfect positive image was thus established!

Zhao Shan walked forward calmly and unhurriedly.

The four crossed paths.

“Good luck,” Zhang Guanghang said with a smile to Jiang Feng.

The camera swiftly switched to them, eliciting screams from the audience.

“Good luck to you too!” Zhang Xi also smiled at Jiang Feng. “What if I don’t lose?”

“Let’s both do our best,” Jiang Feng said with a smile. “But you’re definitely losing.”

“Bleh.” Zhang Xi made a face at Jiang Feng before they split and headed toward their respective cooking stations.

“These two contestants seem to get along very well!” Pei Shenghua laughed.

“Indeed they do,” Tong Deyan’s expression softened considerably.

“Young people, they get along when they can play together.” Zhu Chang noted, “That young girl is the youngest in the top 32, isn’t she?”

“16 years old, the daughter of Chef Zhang from Imperial Meal Room,” Pei Shenghua said.

“No wonder, I was wondering why he came to sit in the audience today. It turns out he’s here to support his daughter.” Zhu Chang also knew Chef Zhang from the Imperial Meal Room, “Old Tong, try to be a little more polite with your wordslater, don’t make the young lady cry.”

Tong Deyan ignored him.

“Here it goes,” Pei Shenghua prompted.

“The second round of the competition now begins, with forty minutes remaining.”

“Forty minutes to make porridge is quite tight,” exclaimed Han Guishan. “Who came up with this challenge?”

All four turned to look at him.

Han Guishan:…

It was my idea, I forgot.

“Those people under me are really unreliable; I’ll have a word with my assistant later!”