Gourmet: From a Stall in Northern Europe

Chapter 276 188: Soup Dumplings, Bubble Wontons, and Beef Shaomai

Finally.

Lin Chen also started preparing to make his first dish.

He deftly manipulated the dough with his hands, and in the blink of an eye, he had rolled it out to the size of a pizza dough and made a cut on it.

The marinated beef filling was directly spread on it, and he gently lifted the cut part of the dough, folding it in the opposite direction like folding a blanket, repeating four times. Then, he pinched the exposed edges of the dough together to form a triangular beef pie.

He gently pressed it with a rolling pin, not too flat, leaving it about two fingers thick.

He poured a large amount of rapeseed oil into a flat pan to heat up, and then placed the beef pie in to pan-fry it slowly over a low flame.

But that wasn't all.

He took a few more pieces of dough, rolling them into long strips, spreading the meat filling, and sprinkling some scallions on top. Then, using a unique technique, he rolled the dough from one end to the other, stretching it as he rolled, eventually forming a small bun resembling a flower bun.

He flipped it over and pressed it flat with the palm of his hand, rolled it out to the size of a pie, and put it in the pan for slow frying over low heat.

"Ah! I got it!"

Chu Yueyue suddenly exclaimed, tapping her man's arm repeatedly: "It's that, that thing... what's it called again... oh right, guokui! It's the one I've seen so many times on the eating broadcast videos!"

Wang Ziqin was initially dumbfounded, then had a sudden realization: "Oh right, right, it's guokui, you're right. Now that you mention it, I remember. Could the triangular one he made earlier also be guokui?"

"I don't know, it doesn't quite look like it. Who am I supposed to ask?!"

Wang Ziqin shrank his neck abruptly, not daring to say anything more.

You shouldn't provoke a woman during pregnancy; they can glare at you in silence — it's terrifying.

After finishing the guokui, Lin Chen began rolling out dough skins again. This time, everyone could finally see that he was definitely going to make buns.

Chef Marchello and Nagishiro Sho approached at the same time, eager to see how one of the most famous foods of Great Xia was crafted by hand.

Lin Chen picked up a round dough skin, placed it in the palm of his hand, scooped a spoonful of beef and scallion filling, pinched the dough with his left hand and gently pulled it up, using his thumb to push upwards from beneath, pressing the dough towards the index finger and pinching it together, repeating this step.

At the same time, his right thumb gently pressed the filling to prevent it from shifting, ensuring the shape stayed centered and appealing.

There wasn't anything extraneous about his motion, just two fingers incessantly opening and closing. In the blink of an eye, a delicate bun was placed in the steamer basket.

"1, 2, 3, 4... 24 folds?"

Chef Marchello meticulously counted the pleats on the bun, his eyes full of amazement, never expecting Lin Chen managed so many folds in such a short time.

"Lin, is there some significance to the number of these pleats?"

"There can be, but there doesn't have to be."

Lin Chen replied without lifting his head: "Great Xia People prize aesthetic beauty in their buns; the pleats shouldn't be too many or too few, generally between 21-30 pleats, but there aren't any strict rules about the number."

"Too few folds, and the center part of the bun skin becomes too thick, ruining the texture; too many, and the overall pleat shape becomes thin and unsightly. Only large buns can have more folds; small buns can't have too many."

As he spoke, another bun was finished.

His speed increased, and soon the whole steamer basket was filled, prompting him to start on the second one.

Besides the small buns, he also made large ones, and later on, he even made square buns, but those weren't steamed; they were baked.

Just when everyone thought the bun series was complete, this guy began rolling out skins again.

This time, the skin was different from all before, rolled particularly thin and large, and he used a rolling pin to create wavy patterns along the edges.

"Shumai?!"

Jiang Shuqi and Chu Yueyue simultaneously recognized what he was making, both excitedly clutching their hands together and secretly swallowing.

As Jiangsu and Zhejiang People, their childhood shumai had sticky rice filling predominantly — regions with meat fillings were rare; it was only upon growing up that they realized shumai could also be made with meat.

Upon tasting it once, they were astonished and became devout followers of meat shumai from then on.

Of course, if there were delicious sticky rice shumai, they wouldn't pass it up either, but good ones were just too few.

Compared to the buns before, shumai's making process was much simpler. Just scoop the meat filling in the center, pinch the tiger mouth of the dough, and it's done. Sealing it wasn't a concern.

Also, the shumai filling differs from bun fillings; it doesn't need to be crafted into such a fine and compact meatball — a loosely packed meat mix is actually preferable.

Once he finished wrapping and steaming them, he immediately started making small wontons, clearly getting into a groove with dough.

Wang Ziqin's couple, Jiang Shuqi, and Lucas all knew what he was doing and recognized it. The rest were utterly bewildered, unable to imagine what sort of final product he'd come up with.

The small wontons he made were the puffed wontons that Jiangsu and Zhejiang People grew up eating. The wonton skins were as thin as cicada wings, with the meat filling inside being pure lean meat, only the size of a pinky fingernail. Usually, just a dab with the tip of the chopsticks on the wonton skin, and a squeeze with the palm was enough.

The focus when eating small wontons is on the texture, plus the delicious umami in the broth.

The water boils, and the little wontons are tossed in.

A large bowl is brought over, and several spoonfuls of sea salt, chicken essence, MSG, pepper, soy sauce, dried shrimp, crumbled seaweed, chopped scallions, diced pickled mustard, and a few spoonfuls of lard are scooped into it.

The bubble wontons are lightly blanched in the boiling water until they float, indicating they are cooked.

First, a ladle of noodle soup is poured into the bowl to evenly mix the base, then the wontons and soup are ladled in together.

The wonton soup is a faint semi-transparent light brown, with seaweed, scallions, and shrimp shells floating around the edge of the bowl, and in the center, the plump, jellyfish-like bubble wontons.

The wonton skins are extremely thin, almost translucent, clearly revealing the pale pink filling inside.

"Originally, the wontons should be served one bowl per person, but since the bowls here aren't the right shape, everyone can just scoop as much as they want to eat."

As the host, Wang Ziqin stands up without hesitation to take the ladle and serve each person a small bowl using dining bowls.

"This is a popular breakfast in the southern coastal region of Great Xia, which used to be a breakfast dish but has gradually evolved to be eaten all day. The thin skins and scant filling are characteristic, and it's mainly paired with other staples like buns and fried dough sticks."

While speaking, two baskets of soup dumplings were brought up.

The wrapper isn't the usual white leavened kind but slightly translucent, looking quite thin, with the bottom swollen and bulging around.

"Soup dumplings, President Wang, you introduce them, I'm off to my tasks~"

"...Sure."

Wang Ziqin doesn't mind Lin Chen's somewhat curt behavior, understanding that he truly is busy, and it's more appropriate for him to introduce the cultural aspects himself.

With his introduction, both Marchello and Nagishiro Sho carefully use chopsticks to grasp the pleats of the soup dumplings, cautiously lifting them and swiftly using a spoon for support.

At the moment of lifting, the broth at the bottom is clearly visible, almost breaking through the skin.

"When eating, first bite a small opening, drink the broth inside, be careful of the heat, then dip in vinegar, and pop it whole into your mouth."

While explaining the eating method to the two, Wang Ziqin also demonstrates.

Next to him, Dreya and Anna, in such an elite gathering, refrained from speaking, quietly bowed their heads and imitated their eating.

Instead, a few Great Xia folks didn't hesitate at all, picking up and eating with little regard for the occasion or status; enjoying the meal was the priority, and soup dumplings were best eaten hot.

Chef Marchello, following their example, uses a spoon to bring the small dumpling to his mouth and gingerly bites through, without daring to suck, allowing the scalding broth to slowly flow out.

Naturally, he has tasted soup dumplings before; some Chinese restaurants sell them, but they often appear semi-finished, with perhaps only Cantonese restaurants executing the technique skillfully.

He doesn't interrupt others' introductions, feigning unfamiliarity with the dish.

As the tip of his tongue touches the burning broth, he instinctively recoils, but after a brief moment of adjustment, he goes again.

Being a head chef for over twenty years, his heat tolerance far surpasses that of the average person, and within just two to three seconds, he is perfectly accustomed to the high temperature.

The meat juice tastes entirely different from what he imagined.

Earlier, he personally saw Lin Chen make a rich broth from pork skin with scallions and ginger, freeze, then mince it, and mix it into the filling.

He thought a broth made from pork skin might be greasy, but it wasn't; instead, it was refreshingly light, packed with meat flavor, and slightly viscous.

That sensation was akin to sipping a flavorful broth achieved only after simmering bones and meat for over ten hours.

"Pork skin has this effect?!"

He never imagined that a quick broth could be made from pork skin with such excellent results.

For this one secret alone, he feels his visit tonight is worthwhile.

He quickly dips the remaining small bun in black vinegar, lets a bit pour inside from the opening, and swallows it whole.

"Huh?!"

This soup dumpling made by Lin Chen has an extremely thin skin, among the top three of all the soup dumplings he's ever eaten, with the filling inside proportioned perfectly. There's a subtle ginger aroma, yet no ginger bits are felt during chewing.

The ginger flavor is not overpowering; it delicately balances the slight greasiness of the filling. Combined with the ultra-thin skin, soaked with meat broth, the inner walls are enveloped with meat fragrance.

Under the tangy assault of the vinegar, the flavor of the entire filling escalates abruptly, uncontrollably sparking a frenzy of saliva in his mouth.

In a reflex, he glances at Nagishiro Sho, coincidentally locking eyes and both seeing surprise in the other's gaze, seemingly never having tried these freshly handmade soup dumplings before.

Remembering the wonton soup in the bowl, Marchello hastily scoops a spoonful and sips it up.

The heat, saltiness, and pepper's spiciness rush forward, immediately followed by the freshness of seaweed and shrimp skin, the fragrance of scallions, and the unique aroma of noodle soup.

Although the soup base appears clear, it has a hint of thickness when drunk, and combined with so many savory flavors, it instantly eradicates any leftover vinegar taste in the mouth.

He never expected such an unassuming clear soup could be so delicious and addictive, prompting him to drink several more spoonfuls, as beads of sweat begin to dot his forehead.