THE GAME OF LIFE

Chapter 698: 697 Chapter Chicken Douhua S-level

Taifeng Building’s exceptionally booming business lasted only for two or three days before quickly subsiding. The cooled-down business was still somewhat better than earlier times, but when compared to before the new year, it was considerably less impressive. This fluctuation fell within Fan Mei’s expectations, and was even a bit higher than her estimates, which further solidified in the minds of Fan Mei and everyone at Taifeng Building the belief that Jiang Feng had truly become incomparable to his former self.

Jiang Feng had indeed become unmatched to his former self, his Sweet and Sour Yam had already reached S-level, and it was the fighter jet amongst S-level Sweet and Sour Yams.

With just the Sweet and Sour Yam and Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon, Taifeng Building successfully won back some of the lavish high-profile VIP customers who had been lured away by the top-floor restaurant, scoring a very impressive comeback victory.

“Feng, I’ve found the chickens you wanted, all very lively. This one even pecked me secretly just now; I think it’s particularly good,” Sang Ming said as he trotted towards Jiang Feng with a hen in his left hand and a rooster in his right, eagerly presenting them like treasures.

Jiang Feng, who was in the midst of preparing Chicken Douhua and was handling seasonings: …

“If I remember correctly, I asked you to bring me some chicken breast meat.”

“Feng, I checked all the leftover chicken breast meat this morning. They were either frozen or not fresh. You’re about to make Chicken Douhua, how can you use that kind of chicken breast? This chicken is lively, I think it’s especially good to use!” Sang Ming lifted his left hand slightly to emphasize.

“The fresh chicken breast meat was taken from chickens that were butchered this very morning, how can it not be fresh?” Jiang Feng couldn’t quite follow Sang Ming’s thought process.

“It’s been left out all morning, of course it’s no longer fresh. Feng, this hen really has a lot of energy, it pecked at me pretty fiercely just now,” Sang Ming insisted, advocating for the hen in his left hand.

Jiang Feng didn’t fuss over it too much. He originally thought it would take him four to five days to transition from S-level broth to S-level clear soup, but it only took him three days, making just one pot of clear soup each day.

It seemed he had somewhat underestimated grandmaster level seasoning and fire control. On the attribute panel, the difference between grandmaster level and master level was just a single word, but in real life, it’s a boundary many chefs spend their lifetimes trying to break through.

What’s that saying again, it feels so good to cheat the system!

“Then you kill this chicken,” Jiang Feng decided, seeing that Sang Ming really just wanted to slaughter a chicken. As a kitchen apprentice cook, Sang Ming rarely had the chance to kill chickens except when he went home for the New Year.

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Sang Ming happily went to kill the chicken.

“Fengfeng, why didn’t you ask Grandpa Jiang to stay and give you directions? If you want to make Chicken Douhua, wouldn’t it be better to have him guide you?” Wu Minqi asked, puzzled. Knowing that Jiang Feng was about to make Chicken Douhua, she had deliberately stayed in the kitchen after lunch, ready to help Jiang Feng at any moment.

For a Sichuan cuisine chef like her, Chicken Douhua, a top-tier brothy Sichuan dish as renowned as Boiled Cabbage in Chicken Broth held extraordinary significance.

“No need. Granduncle Weiming has been in the kitchen these past afternoons watching over the clear soup and giving me advice. He’s tired from it all. I saw Master Peng make Chicken Douhua at Yonghe House before, learned a bit from him, and don’t need Granduncle Weiming to guide me. Today, I just want to give it a try. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll ask Granduncle Weiming to watch over me tomorrow,” Jiang Feng explained, shifting responsibility to Peng Changping.

The reason he did not ask Jiang Weiming to stay was simple: It was unnecessary.

The real difficulty of Chicken Douhua lies in the clear soup. Making a velvety chicken mince is not as challenging in comparison. Since he decided to make Chicken Douhua, he had to watch the making-of videos at least twice a day before he could fall asleep. He had rehearsed the tofu-making process countless times in his mind and was ready to get hands-on, completely without Jiang Weiming’s assistance.

For some reason, the old man hadn’t been in the best of moods recently. Jiang Feng suspected it was because Jiang Weiming had to stay in the kitchen to guide him in making clear soup each afternoon, leaving no one to accompany him for tea at the teahouse. So, Jiang Feng thought it best not to trouble Jiang Weiming today and let him accompany the old man for tea instead.

“By the way, Qiqi, have you noticed Grandpa’s been in a bad mood these last few days? Especially when he sees me, it seems like he doesn’t want to deal with me much,” Jiang Feng said, touching his nose.

“He’s in a bad mood?” Wu Minqi had been focusing on Jiang Feng’s progress with the clear soup for the past few days, amazed by the results. She hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else.

“Not really,” Wu Minqi shook her head. “If Grandpa Jiang has been upset lately, Fengfeng, why not wait until you’ve made Chicken Douhua and then let him be the first to taste it? He will definitely be proud of you, and his mood will certainly improve.”

Jiang Feng also thought this was an excellent idea and went to the fridge to get yesterday’s stored S-level clear soup, waiting for Sang Ming to finish slaughtering the chicken and bring the freshest chicken breast meat.

Excluding the time to prepare the clear soup, making Chicken Douhua really doesn’t take much time.

There are three main challenges in preparing the tofu part of Chicken Douhua.

The first is making the mince, which tests knifework. The finer the minced meat is pounded, the better. After all, the essence of the dish is to hide the meat within the tofu, and achieving the tender texture of tofu without outstanding knifework and some level of physical strength is absolutely impossible. Yet, this step does not critically test knifework like the dish Wen Si Tofu does, where the essence of the dish is solely dependent on knifework, with the chef’s limits directly determining the dish’s limit.

For making Chicken Douhua, master level knifework is more than sufficient, let alone that Jiang Feng’s knifework proficiency is very close to grandmaster level.

The second challenge is the mixing. Tofu is made by coagulating, and so is Chicken Douhua. Coagulating tofu with chicken mince, clear soup, and egg whites is much more difficult than using regular tofu mix, with varying water content, temperature, and humidity, among other uncertain factors, potentially affecting the coagulation. Any tiny error can lead to the Chicken Douhua sticking together in a clumpy mess in the pot instead of forming tofu-like curds.

The third and largest challenge is fire control. Insufficient heat leaves the tofu raw, while too much heat scatters it. Fire control in itself is a mystical and elusive concept reliant on feel and intuition. Taking Oil-Splosion Double Crisp as an example, this dish that seeks fire control perfection is undercooked just a second too soon, and overcooked a second too late—it’s as if chefs need a stopwatch in their hands to time the cooking down to the millisecond, with the dish automatically being served as soon as the time is up.

It could be said that with an S-level clear soup in hand, making a delicious Chicken Douhua isn’t difficult—even if Ji Yue, who rarely cooks and isn’t skilled in culinary arts, tinkered at home for ten or fifteen days, he could still make a Chicken Douhua that might not look like Douhua but still tastes pretty good.

But to make a Chicken Douhua that could pass for the real thing, the chance of success on the first try was minuscule.

Jiang Feng, as a master of culinary disasters, never believed he could succeed on his first attempt.

But he was still watched.

Initially, only Sang Ming and Wu Minqi were spectating.

Later, Jiang Weisheng came, took a look, and couldn’t move on.

Then Zhang Guanghang arrived, and within two minutes, Ji Yue had also rushed in to join the crowd.

As time passed, more and more people joined the audience: Zhang Weiyu, Master Wang, Tang Tang, Fan Mei, Jiang Jiankang, Wang Xiulian, from the back kitchen to the hall, even the odd-job dishwashers came to watch as if witnessing a grand event.

Jiang Feng had initially approached the task with a ‘let’s give it a shot’ attitude but became increasingly careful, meticulous, and focused due to the growing crowd, fearing any mistake could overturn his hard-earned reputation as ‘Feng’ in front of so many people, the reputation he had built up from overworking himself to the point of hospitalization.

Now, the most critical step of making the Douhua was approaching.

Sang Ming felt he was so nervous, he couldn’t breathe.

Having stood in the kitchen from the start, he and Wu Minqi had secured the best spots for watching the show, keeping a distance of at least five meters from Jiang Feng, even from the best vantage point, so as not to disturb him while cooking.

The people on the outermost edge probably couldn’t even see Jiang Feng.

But this didn’t prevent them from watching.

Jiang Feng poured the various prepared ingredients into the pot, stirred, simmered on low heat, and patiently waited for the Douhua in the pot to take shape.

Sang Ming held his breath.

He had eaten Chicken Douhua before. As a person from Shu, Chicken Douhua wasn’t that rare—any random street-side bistro served a bowl for twenty to thirty yuan, an obviously inauthentic version that didn’t look like Douhua but still tasted alright.

But Sang Ming had never tasted Chicken Douhua like this.

It was like LV compared to LU—only one was fatter and one thinner, but their value was entirely different.

Sang Ming felt as though he wasn’t just watching someone cook; he was watching someone create an exquisitely perfect piece of art.

Before this, he had never thought cooking could be as sacred as creating art; without exaggeration, he even felt that Jiang Feng was glowing at that moment.

Emanating a holy light!

The Chicken Douhua had taken shape; it was ready to be served.

Jiang Feng turned off the heat.

In the pot, there lay a Chicken Douhua that could easily be mistaken for the real thing.

[Chicken Douhua S-level]

He did it.

He made it on the first attempt.

An S-level one.

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