novelraw Chapter 380 - 386: Showing Off Steamed Dishes
Chapter 380 - 386: Showing Off Steamed Dishes
Besides chewy yogurt, he still remembered how to make butter and ice cream, but as for cakes and various types of bread, Eric couldn’t remember. Back when there was the internet, he didn’t even bother learning because he could step outside and buy a whole basketful, let alone now with nothing in hand, how could he remember?
When ingredients were plentiful, having more pastry recipes was certainly better. Who could refuse a piece of soft, sweet cake melting right in the mouth after a meal?
Eric wanted to earn gold coins to provide his clansmen with a better life; exchanging pastry recipes was for the same reason. Moreover, these baking recipes had all been improved by Old Jack; money couldn’t buy them.
Thinking this, the movements of his hands didn’t stop, holding a cleaver and ceaselessly mincing meat.
Old Jack’s knives were exquisite and numerous, it was just that Eric wasn’t used to using them. These knives all leaned towards the long and narrow Western style, lacking the cleaver he was accustomed to using.
But they could be used temporarily; Old Jack was also very particular about knives, and they were very sharp. It was just that they were made by human blacksmiths and used for cooking, so they certainly couldn’t compare to the cleaver specially forged by Luban.
After mincing the meat, he added pepper powder, eggs, salt, and scallions. There was no soy sauce here; Eric rummaged through Old Jack’s kitchen and found a bottle of brown sauce, tasting a little bit of it.
The salty-sweet taste was palatable and very fresh, so he poured a little in.
Old Jack specially allowed him to use everything in the kitchen. His little apprentice, Tara, was about to die of jealousy. Studying for so many years, he didn’t have the autonomy to use these spices. These were all things the teacher collected from various places; some were made by the teacher using rare ingredients, some were exchanged with other chefs; in short, they were very precious.
Eric was focusing on cooking and didn’t see Tara’s jealous gaze; his hand applied force, pasting the mixed minced meat to make it chewier.
Thanks to this Snow Wolf body, ever since transmigrating, Eric always felt the meatballs he made tasted much better. The hand strength of a beastman was powerful; every slam of the meat against the bowl created dull thuds, helping the meat texture become tightly bound and possess excellent elasticity.
Skillfully shaping a small meatball, he stirred the par-steamed glutinous rice that wasn’t too sticky yet, then rolled the meatball over it once, coating it with a layer of glutinous rice, and arranged it on a plate. The white meatballs looked like pearls lined up evenly, appearing extremely eye-catching.
Accustomed to cooking for many people, Eric habitually prepared a very large amount of food. Fortunately, the steamer used belonged to the mess hall, so its volume was also large. The things he made looked like a lot, but placed on the steaming rack, they were insignificant.
Ribs and sliced meat that had been marinated for a while were coated layer by layer with seasoned rice powder and also put into the steamer. The rich fragrance of various spices began to spread through the spacious kitchen, blending with the smell of warm steam rising up.
He also saved a little minced meat, found two small clay pots, lined the bottom with minced meat, cracked an egg into each, poured water in, covered the lids, and placed them on the steaming rack together.
This was a soup dish he learned later, called clay pot stew soup. Tasting it once made it impossible to stop. It looked like no spices were added, but steamed this way, the broth would be very clear and sweet. The heat from the boiling water below would slowly permeate through the clay pot layer, extracting all the purest essence from the meat and eggs.
Some people would add a few mushrooms; Eric’s stock of dried mushrooms had long been eaten up, so he didn’t put any in.
This season wasn’t suitable for picking mushrooms yet; delicious mushrooms in the forest usually had to wait until late summer or early autumn after the rain to grow plump. This shortage of ingredients made Eric secretly regretful, but he knew how to utilize what he currently had to create the best flavor.
Seeing the steaming rack was still empty, Eric conveniently made enough for four dishes and one soup, steaming an additional plate of eggs.
Don’t underestimate steamed eggs; to get perfect steamed eggs, smooth like tart filling, it is best to use boiled water that has cooled down mixed with the eggs. This was Eric’s experience. Covering it with a plate prevented water on the pot lid from dripping down and ruining the surface of the steamed eggs. Every action of his was extremely meticulous, as if caring for a true work of art.
Having finished all these tasks, Eric washed his hands and rested temporarily, just waiting for the food to cook. He stood leaning against the edge of the table, casting his eyes to observe the fire burning evenly at the bottom of the pot, silently calculating the time for each type of ingredient.
Amazed by his cooking speed, Old Jack left Tara aside and walked to the steamer to look: "Truly a magical structure."
"This is a steamer; water is burned below, and the steaming rack above is tasked with transmitting steam and holding food. It’s a bit like an oven, but one utilizes water, and the other utilizes fire."
Eric pointed at the steamer, speaking concisely to Old Jack.
"Not bad." Old Jack looked at Eric admiringly, then looked thoughtfully towards the steamer: "You said it’s like an oven, so if bread were put in to steam..."
Interest immediately surged; Old Jack’s hands were a bit itchy, unable to help but start imagining what the pastries he knew would taste like if steamed. He reached up to stroke his chin, his eyes shining brightly before a completely new culinary horizon that had just opened up.
Recipe after recipe flashed through his mind; the dishes and pastries he knew numbered in the hundreds or thousands. There were also dishes in development where he hadn’t found a direction; now, the new method of steaming gave him countless inspirations.
There are many steamed pastries; Chinese-style pastries are mostly steamed. It was just that the pastries here weren’t suitable; for example, if bread were steamed, wouldn’t it become a steamed bun? And not even as good as a steamed bun.
He could understand the desire to create new dishes of a top chef like Old Jack. Since he had taught the other party, he might as well let Old Jack experiment to his heart’s content; if he happened to make a delicious dish, it could be considered creating a blessing for everyone.