Food Stall: Customers Chase Me across the Country

Chapter 434 - 432: Foodies, Foodie Souls

grams of corn starch, 50 grams of wheat flour, 30 grams of cornmeal, 5 grams of sugar to add a caramel color, 1 gram of baking soda to add crispness, one part mixed with an equal amount of water to a batter, the other part mixed evenly as dry powder.

Wang Fan’s secret recipe for batter is not easily shared, unless someone sincerely asks.

Potatoes are dipped into the batter, and alongside them, thinly sliced pieces of tofu are placed into the dry powder without water.

The difference between thin thick slices and thick thin slices is that no matter how thin thick slices are, they are still thick, and no matter how thick thin slices are, they are still thin. Wang Fan handles the thickness with great precision.

The potatoes bathe carelessly in the batter, while the tofu is arranged neatly in the dry powder.

Picking up the tofu and flipping it over, after being entirely covered in dry powder, it is also rolled in egg wash, which easily dyes the tofu a golden yellow.

Left-Right Mutual Struggle is Zhou Botong’s specialty, and Wang Fan performs it just as skillfully.

With his left hand, he gently takes out the potatoes and places them into oil heated to 55%, while his right hand picks up the tofu and places it on the griddle.

Under the impact of high heat, the appearance of both ingredients starts to change rapidly.

The potatoes gradually harden, and the egg wash on the tofu begins to fluff up, releasing a rich fresh potato aroma and the mellow bean scent of tofu, gently stimulating people’s olfactory nerves.

The potatoes need to be fried in the oil for five minutes, during which Wang Fan occasionally uses a slotted spoon to stir them a little to prevent sticking and then ignores them.

Wang Fan arranges all the tofu blocks neatly on the griddle, a sight that could soothe any person with OCD.

The tofu cooks quickly, and in a short moment, the surface has already developed the caramel color unique to the Maillard reaction, with swift hands he flips the tofu over to continue frying.

Once he has taken out the potatoes from the oil and put them aside, he pours the already prepared pan-fried crispy tofu sauce onto the griddle.

A rich sour aroma wafts like a hurricane, making the veteran chefs on the side involuntarily swallow their saliva.

Street food demands vibrant colors, strong smells, and without that intensity, it just doesn’t attract passersby; it’s normal for even experienced chefs to succumb.

The sauce on the griddle bubbles with "gurgle" sounds, its color growing more luscious, soaking the dark golden tofu blocks into the same hue.

Zhuo Qianqian unconsciously licked her lips, having little resistance to the delicacies prepared by Wang Fan.

By now, the temperature of the oil in the pan had also risen to 60% heat, and Wang Fan put the potatoes back in.

The rich potato aroma—which seemed almost tangible—fully unleashed, merging with the scent of the pan-fried tofu. The combination felt like an excavator digging into everyone’s stomachs, striking a hunger that swept through suddenly.

Chen Menglong swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his eyes involuntarily drifting towards Wang Fan, or more precisely, the two delicacies on his stove.

For a moment, he seemed to return to a time of scarcity, where the food on that stove was the exquisite delicacy of his dreams.

He knew this was an illusion; no dish, no matter how delicious, could be that ultimate delicacy. The only thing causing this illusion was hunger!

The intense sour aroma felt like a soul reaper, making his stomach spasm uncontrollably.

Sourness can become overwhelming at a certain level, but the tangy fragrance conjured by Little Wang was precisely controlled, right at the brink of savory and sharp.

Seeing Wang Fan’s astonishingly youthful face, Chen Menglong couldn’t help but feel that this young man’s future accomplishments might be boundless!

This was, in fact, a bold attempt by Wang Fan.

The main inspiration came from the French cuisine he had yesterday.

French dishes initially aim to evoke hunger, with small portions to prevent a feeling of fullness.

The sour soup from the meal left a very deep impression on Wang Fan.

He didn’t want to incorporate that taste into his own dishes, so he daringly chose to manipulate the aroma instead.

Removing the potatoes once again, this time waiting until the oil reached 80% heat before putting them back into the oil one last time.

Thirty seconds later, the potatoes were taken out, the golden yellow intertwined with caramel hues, and with a shake of the slotted spoon, you could hear the crisp sound of the potatoes clashing with the spoon, revealing their crispiness.

After taking these potatoes out, Wang Fan lowered the heat again, waiting for the oil temperature to drop before placing new potatoes into the pot for frying.

He did not believe that one batch of potatoes would be enough for those athletes; first, he trusted his culinary skills, and second, he trusted the athletes’ appetites.

Though they keep their weight in check, their daily energy expenditure is enormous, naturally requiring a lot of food, albeit with a sensible diet.

However, with the competition approaching, adjusting their mindset far outweighs controlling their diet, and so, lately, the coaches have been less strict about their meals.

As Wang Fan poured a ladle of hot oil onto the dry ingredients, a large group of athletes walked into the restaurant right on time.

After a morning of training, everyone was slightly exhausted, feeling sluggish as they walked. However, upon entering the restaurant and smelling that intoxicating aroma, everyone’s eyes lit up.

*Gurgle...*

*Gurgle...*

As soon as Chang Yixian entered, he smelled the spicy and sour fragrance. Being someone who easily got hungry, the aroma hit his nose, causing his stomach to contract wildly and his belly to audibly shout with hunger.

Narrowing his gaze, he briskly walked towards the back, where Wang Fan’s snack section was conveniently located.

His speed was quick, yet some were faster.

A few young athletes dashed past him like a gust of wind, heading straight for Wang Fan.

Chang Yixian was born in ’97, making him somewhat of an elder among the predominantly post-2000 Olympic team, composed mostly of teenagers in their growth spurt, who felt like their ribs were touching their spines from hunger upon entering the restaurant.

Smelling that saliva-inducing aroma, they all instinctively started to sprint.

Zhuo Qianqian took out a stack of small food boxes, and Wang Fan quickly loaded the potatoes and tofu from two large trays into the boxes.

Seeing those vibrant golden steaming potatoes and tofu, the eyes of those at the front of the line almost gleamed with green excitement.

"Oh my, this smells incredible!"

"Just the scent alone could make someone feel completely enchanted."

"Boss Wang’s cooking is simply too fragrant; just thinking about eating such delicious food after training fills me with energy."

"Hehe, after having Brother Wang’s food, I feel unstoppable. With this buff, I must win the medal."

"The only disappointing thing is the limited portion. If I win a gold medal after the competition, I must ask Boss Wang for an unlimited serving meal."