I Run a Restaurant in a World of Natural Disasters

Chapter 61: Chapter 56: The Gourmet Group Visits

"I’m so glad you’re alright. Now we can all breathe a sigh of relief!"

Leitel stroked his beard, his eyes filled with obvious concern as he looked at Ning He. The group behind him chimed in, asking how the three of them were doing. Upon learning they had only suffered minor injuries, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Their concern warmed Ning He’s heart.

"Good people get good luck, I suppose. It wasn’t easy for you all to come from so far away. Please, have a bowl of something hot to warm up."

Even though the bus service was mostly running again, getting here from the Inner Ring still required several transfers. And even if they had chartered a car, they wouldn’t have escaped the chill in this kind of weather, where you could see your breath freeze in the air.

Although the new food was the main attraction, they had also made a special trip just to check on them. She had to be a good host.

"This blasted weather is just too cold. Just walking that short distance has my old bones feeling a bit stiff. Drinking something hot to warm up sounds like a great idea."

As he spoke, the old man with the cane sat down with Leitel and a few of their other old friends at the table closest to the stall, waving for the others to find seats nearby.

Ning He and Connie Ahui ladled out a bowl of sweet fermented rice with small glutinous rice balls for each of them.

This dish was usually only sold in the academy’s cafeteria; no one on the outside had tried it before. They saw a steaming, creamy white concoction with many grains of rice and tiny glutinous rice balls floating in it, and assumed it was just some special kind of congee.

It was just something to warm their bellies, so no one had high expectations. But as the gray-haired old man lifted his bowl, a crisp, sweet fragrance wafted into his nose. He recognized it, and his eyes instantly lit up.

"Do you guys smell that?"

The portly middle-aged man beside him nodded. "It does smell a little familiar."

Leitel and the old man with the cane took a sniff, then a taste. After savoring it carefully, they seemed to have realized something, yet they found it hard to believe.

"It can’t be, can it? I’ve never seen it served this way before."

The thin old man next to them looked confused. "What are you all talking about?"

The gray-haired old man prompted him, "Smell the aroma, then taste the rice grains. Notice that familiar tartness?"

The thin old man took another spoonful as instructed, and it finally clicked.

"It’s from the Holy River Restaurant’s famous dish, the Red Wine-Poached Fish!"

That dish used red wine lees, a byproduct of winemaking, which gave it a similarly unique tartness.

The others nodded lightly in agreement.

"I never thought you could eat wine lees like this, but the aroma is a bit different. This one is sweeter and chewier... Hmm, excellent. Simply excellent," the old man with the cane said, satisfied. "This young lady is truly full of surprises."

"This ingredient is the ’treasure of the house’ in many restaurants. Selling it this cheap, she won’t be taking a loss, will she?" Leitel asked, glancing at the prices on the sign with a hint of worry.

"It’s just that the fermentation technique is rare. The ingredients themselves aren’t expensive, so she shouldn’t be losing money," the portly middle-aged man said in his usual unhurried tone.

Leitel relaxed. The men cradled their bowls and slurped up one spoonful after another. Soon, they were all feeling warm from the inside out, and the portly middle-aged man even unbuttoned his coat.

"They have sweet cakes, too. I’ll go buy a few for us to try."

Halfway through his bowl, the gray-haired old man’s appetite had been thoroughly whetted. His interest piqued by the sign, he got up and bought ten sweet cakes.

Leitel was drawn to the cakes’ plump bodies and shimmering golden crusts. He picked one up and took a bite. His eyes widened slightly, and he nonchalantly scooped several more onto the plate in front of him.

The old man with the cane immediately snorted. "Stop your shameless little tricks. It’s two per person. Eat that many and your blood sugar won’t be able to handle it."

"I thought you guys didn’t like sweets? I was just worried they’d go to waste," Leitel said with a hollow laugh, trying to play it off.

"We might not like other sweets, but we like these. They’re just two small pieces—gone in a few bites. We don’t need you to ’help’ us."

The old man with the cane bluntly took the extra cakes from Leitel’s plate and redistributed them. Leitel wore a look of heartbreak, his eyes darting toward Ning He as if contemplating buying more.

"Don’t you even think about it. Your numbers from the last physical were the worst of all of us. Just behave!"

The thin old man chuckled, shooting Leitel a gloating look as he savored his own share with relish.

Leitel sighed, finally abandoning the idea.

With the appetizers finished, everyone turned their attention to the day’s main event:

Malatang.

Connie’s photography skills were limited, so the picture she’d sent to the group chat wasn’t actually that tempting.

But what a great name! You could tell just by hearing it that it was perfect for a cold day. That, combined with the guarantee of Ning He’s culinary skills, had everyone eager to try.

The lid was lifted from the pot of simmering bone broth, and a rich, powerful aroma billowed out. Instantly, everyone’s eyes were glued to the spot.

’This smells way too good!’

The next second, everyone had spontaneously formed a line in front of the stall.

Naturally, Leitel and his friends were at the head of the line.

After listening to Ning He explain how to order and her recommended ingredients, the old men—who were not short on cash—all opted for the deluxe treatment: a full portion of soup base, plus fried eggs, soy protein, and fried tofu puffs.

They also added half a youtiao, cut into small pieces.

When it comes to eating, people are naturally gifted.

If the soldiers earlier hadn’t thought of it themselves, Ning He would have forgotten that youtiao—the ultimate soup sponge—was also a perfect match for malatang.

With the addition of some healthy leafy greens, it all cooked down into a massive, fragrant bowl.

A fully-loaded bowl came to about 32 original coins. For these members of the group chat, that wasn’t expensive at all. All thirty-odd people ordered the same thing.

Ning He and Connie each manned a pot, cooking without a break. It still took them a while to serve everyone. By the time they were done, less than a fifth of the soup base remained.

Leitel took another deep whiff of the broth’s aroma.

He could smell garlic and scallions, but for the broth to be this rich and mellow, this utterly tantalizing, it had to be just like her roasted pepper sauce—she must have added some kind of special spice!

He’d suspected as much when he saw the "ma" in the name, and sure enough, he was right!

One sip of the broth, and it was immediately clear why the soup base was charged separately and was the most expensive component.

The essence of the flavor was all in the broth.

It was spicy and hot, with a faint numbing sensation on the tip of the tongue. The bone broth was rich and savory with a faintly sweet finish, and the layers of aroma were too complex to even begin to identify.

It was like a magnificent fireworks show erupting on his tongue.

’I’ve never eaten anything like this!’

This young lady, honestly! She could just casually roll out a new dish and make an old man like him so happy he wanted to dance on the spot!

His other old friends were just as ecstatic.

The old man with the cane drank his soup too quickly and choked, coughing violently a few times. Before he had even fully recovered, he eagerly took another sip. Then he tried the fried egg Ning He had recommended, and the deep, knife-carved worry lines between his brows seemed to smooth away.

The portly middle-aged man was known for his calm, unhurried disposition, but right now he was cradling his bowl, alternating between a sip of broth and a bite of food. He was sweating from the spice but didn’t even bother to wipe his brow, a stark contrast to his usual slow and steady manner.

The thin and the gray-haired old men had entered a state of immersive dining. They would pick out an ingredient, take a bite to savor it slowly, let out a contented sigh, then move on to the next, shaking their heads in wonder. If they had paid more attention to their studies in their youth, they would surely be reciting poetry right now.

Before long, the table was covered in bowls licked clean, without a single drop of soup remaining.

Everyone patted their round bellies, feeling utterly content.

The portly middle-aged man had the most direct way of showing his satisfaction: he paid for everyone’s meal. The total was a little over a thousand, and without batting an eye, he handed Ning He a thick wad of twenty 100-original coin bills.

"Keep the change. It takes a lot of hard work to develop new dishes. You deserve this."

"Thank you. In that case, I won’t refuse."

Ning He accepted the money, then packed a box with some fried tofu puffs and fried eggs.

"Take these with you. You can add them to any soup you make; they’ll taste great."

The portly middle-aged man’s eyes lit up.

"Excellent. I’ll gladly take them."

Leitel and his friends came over to praise Ning He some more before the entire group, still savoring the experience, walked out of the insulated tent.

At some point, it had started snowing again outside. Yet no one felt the cold; on the contrary, they all felt pleasantly warm from the inside out.

The delicious flavor of the malatang still lingered on their palates.

In that moment, everyone felt that maybe, just maybe, the world wasn’t such a bad place after all.