欧美综合亚洲日韩精品区

Zhang Guanghang still remembers the shock he felt when he first tasted Peach Blossom Fanfare 20 years ago.

His mother, Zhang Mengxuan, was a pianist who had lived in Europe since childhood and could barely speak Chinese. The piano was the most important thing in her life; she was an artist who lived for her art, noble, elegant, and out of touch with worldly concerns. Her emotions were so tepid that her husband and son were almost inconsequential compared to the art she adored and dedicated her life to.

His father, Bono Durand, was a serious, stubborn, and even dogmatic man. Bono Durand was exceedingly arrogant, believing that French cuisine was the most perfect, excellent, and noblest in the world, rejecting fusion, exchange, and innovation. Over the years, he even seemed to have trapped himself in his own world.

The connection with his parents was frail; he barely communicated with his mother, and his interactions with his father were practically confined to the kitchen. Zhang Guanghang spent his childhood living with his maternal grandfather.

Before his first trip to Beiping at the age of seven, he could hardly speak Chinese; the few basic phrases he knew were taught to him by his grandfather. The reason he went to Beiping with his mother and grandfather was that his grandfather was in the late stages of lung cancer, hoping to return to his homeland one last time before he died.

Xia Musht’s private restaurant was where his grandfather took them, and Peach Blossom Fanfare was the first real Chinese dish he ever ate. When Xia Mushi poured the sauce over the dish, the rice crust burst with the steaming hot broth. With a “boom,” it wasn’t just the rice crust that exploded, but also the longing in his heart.

He wanted to learn this dish, he wanted to take this chef as his master, he wanted to know why his grandfather had yearned for this place for decades. Although his mother had always been engrossed in her art and hardly paid any attention to her family, she respected his decision, even though he was just a seven-year-old child at the time.

His mother and grandfather went back to France, and he, at seven years old, stayed in Beiping to apprentice under Xia Mushi.

From the age of seven until nineteen, for twelve full years, he learned not just about cooking, but also about culture, tradition, and spirit.

Now, at twenty-seven, he could understand why his grandfather, despite being gravely ill and suffering sleepless nights, was determined to return to Beiping for one last look, and why Xia Mushi spent his lifetime trying to restore a tavern that had changed beyond recognition.

Now, Xia Mushi was in the same condition as his grandfather had been, with a serious illness and not long to live.

His grandfather had died without regrets, smiling. As Xia Mushi’s disciple, it was natural for him to help his master fulfill his last wish.

Zhang Guanghang looked at Jiang Feng, whose left hand was still wrapped in a thin bandage, making his movements somewhat inconvenient.

Jiang Feng was intently focused on the clay pot, adding ingredients to it. Zhang Guanghang trimmed the pork tenderloin, removing the sinew and slicing it into thin pieces.

That Taifeng Building had such an heir must have delighted his master.

With four people competing, if nothing unexpected happened, Wu Minqi was sure to finish first.

Ants Climbing a Tree, after all, is just minced meat on glass noodles—a standard Shu home dish that’s hard to perfect, testing a chef’s fundamentals. But in fact, it doesn’t take much effort, especially when all the ingredients are already prepared; it could be ready in a maximum of 20 minutes.

Zhang Guanghang’s Peach Blossom Fanfare was still at the ingredient preparation stage, with shrimp and pork slices being marinated, and winter bamboo shoots and tomatoes already diced into pieces nearly the size of green peas.

Gu Li was still maintaining his snail-like pace, kneading the dough, pinching off round pieces and flattening them in preparation to roll out the skins for shumai.

Jiang Feng’s preserved egg and pork congee was already simmering in the clay pot, and he started on the magnificent task of carving radishes, aiming to carve out all the characters from Peppa Pig during the Cooking Porridge so that an animated show’s characters could all be neatly assembled together.

Wu Minqi s Ants Climbing a Tree was almost ready to serve.

It wasn’t as good as what Wu Hanxue had been making these days at the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, but it was still quite satisfactory. The minced meat, carrot dices, chopped green onion and ginger, and bean paste were evenly clinging to the glass noodles, shining with an enticing red luster.

The dish was ready to serve.

Wu Minqi raised her hand.

Gu Li continued to knead the dough at a leisurely pace.

Zhang Guanghang grabbed the marinated shrimp and pork slices to check their readiness.

Jiang Feng was intently carving the first Peppa Pig.

The Ants Climbing a Tree” dish was presented to the judges’ panel.

Han Guishan was all too familiar with this dish. During the years he spent as a peddler in Shu, he had tasted all kinds of variations. Nowadays, you could randomly walk into any eatery on the street and find it, each with its unique taste and appearance.

It looks pretty good,” said Han Guishan as he picked up some with his chopsticks.

“It is good, very authentic,” Zhu Chang expressed his agreement.

“Ants Climbing a Tree is Wu Hanxue’s specialty. If her daughter said it wasn’t authentic, that would be a loss of face for him,” Tong Deyan commented after also taking a bite.

It s a shame about Old Sir Wu’s Boiled Cabbage with Plain Water, though. No one has his level of skill anymore, and now that he’s aged, he hardly ever makes it,” Xu Cheng remarked with a hint of regret.

“Speaking of Boiled Cabbage with Plain Water, I recall that in Shu, Chicken Juice Tofu is more famous and even harder to execute,” Pei Shenghua joined the group discussion.

Chicken Juice Tofu? Is that the dish where chicken meat is fashioned to look hke tofu, seems like tofu to the eye, but tastes of chicken?” Han Guishan inquired.

Oh, Mr. Han, you’ve had it too?” Pei Shenghua perked up, “Nowadays with MSG, most cooks are reluctant to learn how to make Chicken Juice Tofu or Boiled Cabbage with Plain Water. You can still find authentic Boiled Cabbage with Plain Water at state banquets, but genuine Chicken Juice Tofu is really rare. I remember, decades ago in Shu, there was an old master whose Chicken Juice Tofu was exceptional-eating chicken without seeing it, eating meat without seeing it. Too bad I never had the chance to try it, though my senior did. Eh, what was that old master’s name again? I can’t quite recall, but I think he had the surname Jiang.”

“MSG, huh.” Xu Cheng sneered, “Even with MSG, they couldn’t recreate the taste of Boiled Cabbage with Plain Water or Chicken Juice Tofu. Just excuses.” “The old master from Shu you mentioned, is he the one from the state-owned restaurant in the provincial capital of Shu? The one known for his Chopped Pepper Fish Head, who specialized in serving foreign guests?” asked Zhu Chang.

Yes, that’s the one! He only had one apprentice who was particularly untalented and learned nothing. But there’s been no news of him for many years; he might have passed away by now. Mr. Xu, with your extensive knowledge and connections, you should know, right?” Pei Shenghua inquired. I’ve only heard about him. The roads in that area of Shu are difficult, and by the time I went looking, the old master had already left the provincial capital many years ago, and no news remained,” Xu Cheng responded with evident disappointment.

Sitting nearby, Han Guishan was munching on “Ants Climbing a Tree” while listening to their conversation, feeling something amiss. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the exceedingly mythical old master from Shu they were talking about was Jiang Yuanchao.

“Is the old master you’re talking about named Jiang Yuanchao?” Han Guishan asked.

“Exactly, that’s him!” Pei Shenghua slapped his thigh, “Mr. Han, having done business in Shu for so many years, you must be familiar with the old master.” He s not deceased. Jiang Yuanchao is the granduncle of contestant Jiang Feng,” Han Guishan explained while stuffing another bite of “Ants Climbing a Tree into his mouth and looking towards the audience, pointing at Jiang Weiming in the third row, “See there? The thin old gentleman in the third row. My wife used to work as a waitress at that state-owned restaurant.”

The other five judges: ???

ill

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Xu Cheng couldn’t believe that after going in circles, the Master Jiang he had been pondering over was right in front of him, “Remember, I even mentioned this to you recently.”

“How would I know you were talking about this Master Jiang? Back in the day, there were plenty of chefs surnamed Jiang in the provincial capital of Shu. Besides, you saw him the last time at the store, didn’t you? You didn’t recognize him either!” Han Guishan began deflecting blame, “I even greeted him at the time; you just didn’t pay attention.”

Xu Cheng’s expression grew increasingly hostile.

“Besides, I really don’t know him that well; he’s been a longtime colleague of my wife’s, not mine. We haven’t been in contact for years,” said Han Guishan, trying to appease Xu Cheng, “However, it’s still possible to get in touch now. In fact, over the years, my wife does call him from time to time during the holidays.”

Pei Shenghua:…

“Who would have thought, contestant Jiang Feng also comes from a lineage of culinary expertise,” Pei Shenghua remarked admiringly.

This mention of a culinary heritage reminded Xu Cheng of Taifeng Building he had come across before in the materials, which he had glanced at and then dismissed.

The reward for first place is a special feature interview with ‘Taste’ magazine, right?” Xu Cheng asked.

Han Guishan: ???

Wasn’t it just a cover feature? When was there also a special feature interview? “I believe so,” answered Han Guishan, as if to say whatever makes you happy. “I think, given the very high level of culinary skill among these competitors, we should create a special feature interview just for them,” suggested Xu Cheng, smiling, “It looks like this year, we might produce two editions for the Asian region.”