Chapter 391 - 200: This Is the Taste

Chapter 391: Chapter 200: This Is the Taste

The slurry made from the minced chicken immediately began to thicken.

"Did you use four liang of minced chicken, eight eggs, and one liang of bean flour?" Arhat asked.

"Yes, that’s the ratio," Zhou Yan nodded.

Arhat nodded thoughtfully. He wondered if the ratios he had been experimenting with all these years were the same.

His master had said that the recipes his father left behind were very rough, lacking the specific amounts and ratios for the ingredients. That part was passed down orally.

Unfortunately, because these were rather high-end dishes, Luo, who had just mastered his Knife Skills, hadn’t had the chance to inherit them before his father passed away.

He had always thought there was plenty of time, letting his son learn little by little to prevent him from becoming impetuous.

But tragedy arrived before tomorrow.

And that was how the legacy was broken.

Once the chicken mixture was ready, Zhou Yan began to heat the wok.

Snowflake Chicken Porridge required a soft stir-fry technique.

He used a small iron wok, which he heated before adding lard. There’s a technique to heating a wok: a hot wok with cool oil prevents sticking. A common method among Chefs is to first heat the wok with some oil, scoop out the excess, and then add a second portion of oil for cooking.

The lard melted. As the oil temperature rose, he poured half of the chicken slurry into the wok. He stirred rapidly with a spatula while continuously shaking the small wok, ensuring the mixture wouldn’t clump as it cooked.

There were many layers of skill involved here.

Most attempts at making Snowflake Chicken Porridge failed at this very step.

It demanded an extremely high level of skill in Fire Control, stir-frying technique, and the preparation of the slurry in the previous step.

First, he stir-fried it slowly over a low flame. The minced chicken began to set as it was tossed, gradually taking on the beautiful color and texture of snowflakes in the wok.

Then, he quickly removed it from the wok and plated it.

The Snowflake Chicken Porridge was piled onto the plate, white as snow and layered delicately. It truly resembled a mound of snowflakes, forming a peaked snowdrift. A gentle shake of the plate made it quiver. The aroma of chicken, elegant and comforting, wafted to the nose.

Finally, he sprinkled on some pre-prepared minced ham. This step was called "adding the covering."

This was what Zhou Yan had specifically asked Huang Ying to bring him yesterday.

Ham wasn’t easy to buy in this era, but Feiyan Restaurant definitely had it.

As expected, Huang Ying didn’t disappoint, bringing him a small, two-liang piece of extremely high-quality, pure lean meat.

Zhou Yan had only asked for one liang, so Huang Ying was quite generous. He, in turn, had waived the cost of a meal for her and her brother to repay the favor.

The ham in Snowflake Chicken Porridge was merely a garnish. The amount used was quite small, minced finely and sprinkled on top.

The collision of the red ham and the snow-white chicken porridge created a gorgeous tinge of red within the white. The color was stunning.

It was shaped like a cloud, light and fluffy, piled like fresh snow, pristine and white.

[A Perfect Serving of Snowflake Chicken Porridge]

The Identification result had already appeared before Zhou Yan’s eyes.

The pairing of colors is also a vital part of Sichuan Cuisine’s aesthetic.

Just like a plate full of bright red chili segments, which often creates a strong visual impact.

But only those who have tried it know that a dry pot stir-fried with more chili segments than meat might not be as spicy as a Quzhou duck head, which doesn’t even appear to have chili in it.

"This dish is so beautiful!"

"This Chef is young, but his culinary skills are on another level!"

The surrounding guests exclaimed in admiration. They didn’t know if it was delicious since they hadn’t tasted it, but its appearance was outstanding. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Shen Shaohua observed intently from the side, his pen scratching across paper. He had already decided on the headline for today’s news story: "An Overseas Chinese’s Journey of a Thousand Miles to Find Family and Flavor; Fourth-Generation Kong Sect Successor Recreates a Classic Sichuan Dish; The Echo of Snowflake Chicken Porridge Is Deafening."

Zhou Yan played a key role in both events.

’Some people are just born to be the protagonist.’

"It truly is like snowflakes! Incredibly beautiful!" Qian Siyuan couldn’t help but praise. He then called out to the cameraman standing nearby, "Photographer Hu, please take a picture of this dish."

He had invited a photographer from a Jiazhou City studio today to take group photos as souvenirs, which he could also take back to the United States to share with his other brothers and sisters.

His mother came from a Kong Sect family. Now that the Kong Sect’s legacy was thriving, he shared in the glory and was naturally very happy to document this moment.

It was just that foreigners like them weren’t allowed to bring cameras into the country; otherwise, there were so many beautiful moments he wanted to capture on film.

"This really is Snowflake Chicken Porridge!" Kong Qingfeng said with a look of admiration. "It’s exactly the same as the one his father used to make! It hasn’t collapsed or gotten watery. It’s piled up high and sprinkled with minced ham—it’s like a snow-capped mountain. The color is just beautiful!"

He had never seen how Arhat’s father made Snowflake Chicken Porridge back then, but he had seen the finished dish and even tasted it himself. The flavor was unforgettable.

Now, Zhou Yan’s revival of this famous dish was, it must be said, a picture-perfect replica.

But the most emotional person was, without a doubt, Arhat, who stood beside Zhou Yan.

Gazing at the Snowflake Chicken Porridge on the plate, his eyes were wide. Shock, joy, and nostalgia flickered across his face before finally melting into pure excitement.

Twenty-six years!

He was seeing a perfect serving of Snowflake Chicken Porridge once again.

The Luo of yesteryear had become an elder spoken of with the same respect as his father and grandfather, having spent half his life at Le Ming Restaurant.

Zhou Yan grabbed a handful of spoons from the side. He handed the first to Kong Qingfeng and the second to Arhat. Then he gave spoons to the reporter, Shen Shaohua, Qian Siyuan, and the senior chefs watching from the sidelines. He smiled and said, "Snowflake Chicken Porridge is best eaten hot. I still have enough for one more serving to cook in a bit. For now, please try this and tell me what you think."

"Luo, you try first," Kong Qingfeng said, looking at Arhat. "You have the most right to speak on this."