Culinary Expert

Chapter 23: Supreme Beef Noodles (Part 2)

While marveling at the system’s cutting-edge technology, Bai Xiaobai followed the green double-layered clay pot’s instructions. He began by adding a certain amount of water to the large pot, then placed the pre-prepared large beef bones inside. After sprinkling a little Sichuan pepper and adding a dried chili pepper, Bai Xiaobai plugged in the pot and closed the lid. The electronic display on the clay pot showed a countdown: it would take just ten minutes to simmer the yak bone broth. Typically, top-quality beef broth requires long, uninterrupted simmering to bring out its richest, most robust flavor. Now, with this green clay pot, it takes just ten minutes—it’s practically miraculous. If other beef noodle shops found out about this “miracle tool,” they’d be lining up at Bai Xiaobai’s doorstep, desperate to get their hands on this double-layered green clay pot. Less than a minute after plugging it in, the double-layered clay pot lid was already bubbling and pushing upward—clearly, the water inside had come to a boil. Before long, the aroma of the yak bone broth gradually fills the air, wafting all the way from the kitchen to Chaotianmen Street. The scent is incredibly tempting. It’s now 7:15 a. m. Many people rushing to work on Chaotianmen Street haven’t had time for breakfast yet. As they pass by Xiaobai Restaurant and catch a whiff of this rich aroma, they can’t help but stop in their tracks and cast hungry glances toward the shop. Besides a few regulars at Xiaobai Restaurant, there were also some curious onlookers who weren’t quite sure what was going on. “It’s the smell of tea-eggs—and wait, there’s also a hint of beef. It smells so good—you guys should take a whiff.” Passersby A had a very keen sense of smell and immediately distinguished the two aromas. “ “This aroma is simply amazing—it’s so good.” A man in a suit, passing through Chaotianmen Street on his way to work for the first time, almost pressed his nose right up against the crack in Xiaobai Restaurant’s door to take a whiff. “I’m dying to eat that,” said Passersby B, wiping the drool that had slightly trickled from the corner of his mouth. “This place was still selling tea eggs just a couple of days ago. Could they have launched a new dish?” asked a longtime resident of Chaotianmen Street, puzzled. “Probably. Look, it’s already past seven, and they haven’t opened the door yet. They might really be working on some new dishes,” said another longtime resident of Chaotianmen Street. Upon hearing this from the longtime residents, a burly office worker exclaimed anxiously, “Damn it, I came here for tea eggs. This place isn’t closed for the day, is it?” After saying this, the office worker walked to the entrance of Xiaobai Restaurant, tapped the roll-up door lightly a few times with his heavy hand, and called out, “Boss, are you there? I’d like to buy some tea eggs…” The man’s voice was rough, and he called out several times in a row, but there was no response from inside. In fact, while the glass kitchen provided by the system did a poor job of blocking odors, it was very effective at blocking sound. Combined with the gurgling sound of the double-layered clay pot in the kitchen—where Bai Xiaobai was currently fully focused on preparing his Supreme Beef Noodles—he didn’t hear the office worker’s tapping at all. In fact, there were several people waiting anxiously at the entrance, just like the office worker, and among the crowd were a few familiar faces. Zhu Yufei and Xiao En had also been waiting at the shop entrance for quite some time. The two of them had been in high spirits since early morning, having made plans to meet at Xiaobai Restaurant to eat tea-eggs. They just hadn’t expected Xiaobai Restaurant to be closed tight—it still hadn’t opened yet. Zhu Yufei was fine; her office was in an office building on the commercial street behind Chaotianmen Street, so it was a short walk. Xiao En, on the other hand, was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan—her office was quite a distance away. From her office on Chaotianmen Street, she had to take Bus No. 1, which would take at least twenty minutes, passing through several stops. Xiao En checked the time on her phone and said to Zhu Yufei, “Yufei, we’re running out of time. I can’t wait any longer—I’ve got to go.” Xiao En had already been late once a few days ago, and if she clocked in late a second time this month, company policy dictated she’d be docked 100 yuan. So even though she really wanted to eat a tea egg, she had no choice but to give it up. “Be careful on your way,” Zhu Yufei advised. “Okay, I’m off then.” After saying goodbye to Zhu Yufei, Xiao En—disregarding her ladylike image and the high heels on her feet—ran as fast as she could toward the Chaotianmen Street bus stop. At first, the regulars who’d come for the tea eggs were still holding out hope that a miracle might happen and Xiaobai Restaurant would open, but after waiting a full fifteen minutes, they realized they were completely wrong. It still wasn’t open… “I don’t think they’ll open this morning. Let’s just go…” one regular said, shaking his head. “Sigh, let’s come back and check at noon,” another waiting regular said before leaving as well. Time had worn away the regulars’ last shred of patience. The regulars gradually dispersed—those who needed to go to work headed off, and those who had business to attend to went about their business. In the end, only Zhu Yufei remained. Wearing high heels, she stood there until her legs ached. If this had been any other restaurant, she would’ve left long ago, but ever since she’d eaten the “Supreme Tea Eggs” twice, she couldn’t stop thinking about that flavor. Zhu Yufei resolutely continued to wait. Eight o’clock arrived. Xiaobai Restaurant still hadn’t opened. Her company’s clock-in time was 8:20 a. m. Zhu Yufei sighed, massaged her slightly sore and swollen calves, and headed off to work. Inside the glass kitchen of Xiaobai Restaurant. Bai Xiaobai was intently kneading the dough. Whether the beef noodle soup’s noodles have the right bite depends crucially on how the dough is mixed—it’s a delicate process, and the timing of adding potash and water truly tests a chef’s true skill. Three rounds of water, three rounds of potash—not a single one can be skipped—plus eighty-one rounds of kneading. It’s physically demanding work, but watching the flour in her hands gradually take shape, Bai Xiaobai didn’t feel the least bit tired. To be considered well-kneaded, the dough must achieve the “Three Glosses.” Of course, this isn’t the “Three Alls” of the Japanese invaders—“burn all, kill all, loot all”—but rather it means achieving “glossy dough, glossy bowl, and glossy hands.” After kneading the dough, Bai Xiaobai stuffed the glossy dough into a special proofing machine. Beep This high-tech proofing machine is no joke—it finished proofing the dough in the blink of an eye. Once the dough was proofed, it was time to roll out the strands and pull the noodles. Crack… crack… crack… Bai Xiaobai felt as if the “God of Cooking” had possessed him—he moved with effortless ease. With each rhythmic slap and toss, the thick dough in Bai Xiaobai’s hands grew thinner and thinner, giving birth to strands of noodles of uniform thickness. The noodles were dropped into boiling water and quickly tossed to cook. Sizzle… While the noodles were cooking, the beef bone broth in the green double-layered clay pot had also finished simmering. Bai Xiaobai lifted the lid of the clay pot, and the steam from the hot broth instantly rose, filling the air. In an instant, the aroma filled the room. No special seasonings were added—just a few dried chili peppers and Sichuan peppercorns to remove the gamey smell—yet the yak bone broth turned out to be surprisingly fragrant. It’s no wonder it’s said to retain 89. 99% of its nutrients; it’s even more fragrant than a nourishing stew. Bai Xiaobai carefully ladled a bowl of beef bone broth from the small clay pot, added seasonings, cilantro, and garlic chives, then placed the cooked ramen into the seasoned broth and topped it with blanched Chinese mustard greens. All that’s missing is the beef. The beef in “Supreme Beef Noodles” isn’t simmered or braised—it’s seared over high heat. Thin strips of marbled beef, marinated in advance to infuse the flavor, are brushed with a thin layer of premium Mediterranean olive oil, sprinkled with a pinch of sea salt, skewered with metal skewers, and quickly seared over high heat. Bai Xiaobai strictly controls the critical heat level. If the heat is even a fraction too high, the beef can instantly become tough and dry, losing all its flavor; if it’s even a fraction too low, it won’t develop that signature charred aroma. Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle… The intense flames licked at the marbled beef, producing a sizzling sound. Excess beef fat seeped out from the inside of the meat, mixing with the olive oil on the surface, and was instantly ignited by the intense flames. The glowing red flames illuminated Bai Xiaobai’s face. This is flame-grilled cuisine. The aroma of charred beef wafted toward him, carrying a faint, fresh scent of olive oil. Bai Xiaobai hadn’t eaten breakfast, and the scent instantly whetted his appetite. Once the beef was seared to perfection, Bai Xiaobai used a small knife to slice it into pieces of nearly uniform thickness, arranging them on the beef noodle soup like a peacock spreading its tail. With such an appealing presentation, the “Supreme Beef Noodles” were finally complete. The golden-yellow noodles, the bright red, char-grilled beef, the clear yak bone broth, paired with fresh green mustard greens, cilantro, and garlic chives—it was enough to make anyone’s mouth water.