I Run a Restaurant in a World of Natural Disasters

Chapter 60: Chapter 55: Ito’s Transformation

Ito stood outside the crowd. His team members had already swarmed the small stall in front of them, scrambling to be the first to order.

"...There are new items? Malatang? Sugar cakes? What are those?"

’New items again?’

Ito perked up his ears, his gaze flicking over out of the corner of his eye.

He saw the black-haired girl holding a box of round, golden pastries. She broke them in half for everyone to sample, then lifted the lid of a stockpot to give the crowd a look.

Even from several steps away, Ito could smell the peculiar aroma.

It carried the kick of chili peppers, the fragrance of bone broth, and some other indescribable scents. Just one whiff was enough to whet his appetite.

The other team members chewed on the sugar cakes while greedily inhaling the aroma, practically drooling. But when they saw the prices on the sign, they couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

"A soup base is ten original coins?! That’s way too expensive!"

Eating out meant paying out of their own pockets, unlike at the mess hall, so naturally, they were price-conscious. Ten original coins could buy a whole egg pancake; spending it on a soup base seemed like a bad deal.

In the end, most of the trainees opted for a few of the snacks instead.

"I’ll have an order of small glutinous rice balls, one fried dough stick, and two sugar cakes."

"Same for me, but with an extra fried dough stick."

But there were a few who wanted to try something new. They picked one or two vegetable items, a portion of tofu puffs, a bundle of noodles, and chose a half-portion of the soup base.

"Captain, aren’t you getting anything?"

someone asked, noticing Ito hadn’t ordered a thing.

Ito was about to nod, but the aroma of the fried dough stick and small glutinous rice balls in the other person’s hands went straight to his head, stopping the word in his throat. He had been on patrol for hours out in the cold and was already freezing and famished. In the end, he decided to try one of these sugar cakes.

’Since it’s a new item, maybe the mess hall will sell it in the future. I’ll just consider this... tasting it on my cousin’s behalf.’

With that thought, Ito said, "I’m going," and walked up to the stall.

"What can I get for you?"

"Two sugar cakes," Ito said, then added, "And a bowl of fermented rice with small glutinous rice balls."

The fermented rice dish was slightly more expensive than in the mess hall at 4 original coins a bowl. The sugar cakes were 3 original coins for two. The two items came to a total of 7 original coins.

Ito paid and sat down with his food.

Back at the academy’s mess hall, while he had never actively bought food from Ning He’s stall, Alisa had once brought him a portion. She had wanted to complain with him about Ning He’s cooking, but after they both tasted it, neither could find a single fault. In the end, Alisa had stormed off in a huff.

That had been a while ago, but he could still occasionally recall that fresh, sweet, and mellow flavor.

’Memory often romanticizes ordinary things. It probably wasn’t even that good.’

He blew on a spoonful to cool it, then swallowed it in one go.

A warmth, like a gentle spring breeze, swept through his cold, stiff limbs, instantly reviving them. A pleasant heat spread through his chest. He was enveloped, body and soul, in a feeling of warm satisfaction.

Besides him, the other privates had also started with the fermented rice with small glutinous rice balls.

Sweet, fragrant, and warm—it was exactly what they needed at that moment.

By the time Ito snapped out of it, half the bowl was already gone.

He quickly grabbed a sugar cake from the plate and took a bite, freezing instantly.

Unlike the crispiness of a fried dough stick, the sugar cake had a crunchy, caramelized exterior, but the inside was exceptionally soft and tender. It was hollow in the middle, with only melted white sugar forming tiny granules that clung to the inner wall, bursting with a pure sweetness that delighted the senses with every chew.

Ito stared in a daze at the half-eaten sugar cake in his hand.

He didn’t understand. The thing didn’t look complicated, so how could Alisa and the others not be able to make it?

’Isn’t it just flour and sugar?’

’And the fried dough sticks.’

’Aren’t they just fried dough?’

Uncle Jonah had tried many times in private but could never achieve the same crispiness.

"My god, Mohan, don’t be so stingy! I just want to dip my food in your soup."

"No way. If you want some, buy your own. This soup cost money, and I don’t even have enough for myself," said the private named Mohan. Then, his eyes lit up as an idea struck him. He broke the fried dough stick he had bought into several pieces and dunked them into his bowl of malatang.

The fried dough stick quickly softened, soaking up the broth. Mohan picked up a piece and stuffed it into his mouth. The moment he bit down, the broth exploded from the dough’s pores, splashing every corner of his mouth. Every taste bud experienced the flavors of umami, numbing spice, heat, and chili.

The intense sensory stimulation nearly blew his mind.

"What... what on earth is in this? How can it be so delicious? Ma’am, you’re a genius!"

When Mohan came back to his senses, he was filled with utter admiration for Ning He.

Mohan came from a well-off family and frequented high-end restaurants in the Second and Third Rings, but he had never had such an astonishing culinary experience. It was like he had opened the door to a whole new world.

This unassuming, milky-white soup base, with a layer of red chili oil floating on top, could absolutely demolish the signature dish of any restaurant he had ever eaten at!

"This soup base with the fried dough sticks is incredible! You guys have to try it!"

After saying his piece, Mohan went back to enjoying his bowl. The other privates were tempted, and a few of them pooled their money to order a bowl of the soup base to dip their fried dough sticks in.

As expected, every one of them was so stunned they were speechless for a long moment.

Besides the layers of different umami, spicy, and fragrant flavors, their tongues also felt a strange sensation, as if they were spontaneously vibrating ever so slightly.

A completely new experience!

Ito finished the last of his fermented rice with small glutinous rice balls. This small amount of food was clearly not enough to satisfy a young soldier with a healthy appetite.

’This new item might not be sold at the mess hall for now, but what if it is in the future? It’s only right that I test it out for Uncle Jonah first.’

Ito stood up, walked back to the stall, and three minutes later, returned to his seat with a brimming bowl of malatang.

If he was going to test it, he had to be thorough. He ordered all the ingredients marked with a star on the menu, creating a portion so lavish it was practically overflowing.

Ito picked up his chopsticks and lifted a golden, fluffy deep-fried egg.

The deep-fried egg, heavy with absorbed broth, was on the verge of falling apart. He took a bite just in time, and the moment the flavor hit his tongue, Ito understood that the others’ over-the-top reactions weren’t exaggerated in the slightest.

All sorts of flavors and aromas danced on his tongue, performing a symphony that made everything he used to call "gourmet" seem utterly bland by comparison.

’There’s no way Uncle Jonah could ever replicate a flavor like this, right?’

Ito suddenly sighed.

He felt discouraged, yet at the same time, it was as if a weight had been lifted.

’Since it’s impossible to compete, I might as well drop those notions and just enjoy it.’

And that’s exactly what Ito did.

He cast aside his prejudices, savoring each bite and chewing slowly. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead and the tip of his nose from the spice. His whole body warmed up, as if he were soaking in a hot spring in the dead of winter, every pore opening in blissful release.

This was the most amazing, delicious, and satisfying meal he had ever eaten.

As she saw the group of privates off, Ning He clearly noticed their leader, the young man, glance at her a couple of extra times, his eyes full of goodwill.

Before Ning He could recall who he was, a familiar, elderly voice rang out excitedly from the other side of the canopy:

"We’re here! This is the place! Come on, folks, pick up the pace!"

Ning He looked up and saw Leitel leading an enthusiastic group of people toward her stall.