The Flavor of Food Should Embrace the Four Seas

Chapter 98 The Flavor of Food Should Embrace the World

And this meat—is a bit tough.

Black pork is indeed good, but this sweet and sour cooking method emphasizes tenderness and deboning.

In order to achieve a better shape, the Imperial Kitchen did not dare to stew the meat for too long, resulting in the meat fibers still being tough and the sauce only sticking to the surface without penetrating inside.

By the end, my mouth was filled with that thick layer of syrup, which was cloyingly sweet.

Li Shimin picked up his teacup and took a sip, trying to wash away the greasy taste.

He picked up a third piece.

Before I had even chewed this piece properly, an extremely subtle flavor, which seemed particularly abrupt after the sweet and sour taste faded, came up.

fishy!

It had that earthy smell that was characteristic of pork.

No matter how much vinegar or sugar you add, this taste is like a stubborn ailment, clinging tightly to the bone.

The first piece was covered up because the sauce was too thick.

Once the taste buds in the mouth have adjusted to the strong sour and sweet flavors, the fishy smell can no longer be hidden.

As Li Shimin chewed, his movements slowed down.

The moment that fishy smell hit me, the little bit of goodwill I'd built up just moments before vanished.

Add to that the not-fully-emulsified lard, mixed with syrup, sticking to the palate, and the greasy feeling makes your stomach churn.

"Smack."

Li Shimin placed the chopsticks on the jade chopstick holder.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet side hall.

Liu Fengyu shuddered; the heart that had just settled down jumped into his throat again.

"Your Majesty—is it not to your liking?"

Li Shimin didn't rush to speak, but took another sip of tea to rinse his mouth.

"Similar in shape"

He uttered two words.

Liu Fengyu didn't understand and didn't dare to ask, so he could only bow and wait.

"The color and the taste are indeed quite good at first bite."

Li Shimin pointed to the plate of ribs that was still mostly empty and said, "You guys have really put your heart into this. Compared to those bland, watery steamed dishes from before, you've finally figured it out."

Liu Fengyu was about to express his gratitude.

"But this meat—"

Li Shimin shook his head. "Too tight, not flavorful enough. The sweet and sour taste on the surface is too overpowering, and the fishy smell inside hasn't been completely removed."

A fishy smell?

Liu Fengyu's face turned pale.

He clearly added alcohol and so many spices!

"And it's greasy."

Li Shimin rubbed his stomach. After eating Su Mu's ribs, he felt like he wanted another piece, but after eating three of these, he felt full. "Su Mu rendered out all the oil and then used vinegar to cut through the grease."

Although Li Shimin couldn't cook, he had eaten a lot of the food made by that picky system owner, so he could tell a thing or two about it. "Yours is like oil soaking in sugar, and sugar coating oil."

Cold sweat broke out on Liu Fengyu's forehead.

He thought that as long as there were enough ingredients and good quality meat, it would be fine. Little did he know that there were so many intricacies involved.

"Please remove the plates."

Li Shimin waved his hand, "A reward! Although it's not quite there yet, at least you used your brain. In the future, study this approach more and stop clinging to the old imperial calendar all the time."

Liu Fengyu felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and quickly kowtowed to express his gratitude. He then took the plate of ribs, of which only three pieces had been touched, and left.

Stepping outside the hall, a cold wind blew, and the sweat on my back finally felt cool.

He looked at the bright red ribs on the plate, picked up a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

When I tasted it in the kitchen just now, I only thought it was delicious.

Now, calm down and savor it, wait until that sweet and sour feeling passes—

really.

That faint, pungent smell clinging to the bones, though subtle, was undeniably present.

And that greasy feeling.

Liu Fengyu gave a wry smile.

He glanced back at the brightly lit Liangyi Hall, then looked towards the dark and dimly lit woodshed of the Imperial Kitchen.

This dish is not difficult to make.

If he just goes back and thinks about it, Liu Fengyu will definitely be able to make the perfect sweet and sour pork ribs!

But how did that kid manage to make all these unheard-of and exquisitely crafted dishes?

Even if you start learning to cook from the womb, this is still nothing special, right?

Liu Fengyu shook his head, his eyes slightly vacant.

Am I really getting old?

Or perhaps the Imperial Food Bureau needs some fresh blood.

I've heard that there are now many different cuisines around the world, with a wide variety of flavors. Perhaps I should take the opportunity to learn about them.

The air in the backyard of the imperial kitchen was no longer filled with the sticky heat of summer.

As dusk fell, the western clouds turned a fiery orange-red, layering upon layer upon layer onto the glazed tiles of the palace walls.

"Brother--!"

Before you see him, you hear his voice.

Little Sizi has been running around here a lot these past few days, and her little legs have practically rubbed the threshold raw.

As soon as Su Mu looked up, he saw two figures, one tall and one short, step in.

Today, Li Lizhi wore a moon-white ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) with a light purple shawl draped over it. She looked gentle and elegant, but her brows were tightly furrowed, as if someone owed her eight hundred strings of cash.

Little Sizi followed behind, still clutching half a piece of osmanthus cake in her hand, with crumbs stuck to the corners of her mouth and her cheeks bulging.

"What's wrong?"

Su Mu clapped the flour off his hands and looked at Li Lizhi, who had a bitter and resentful expression. "Your Highness, who stepped on the hem of your skirt?"

Li Lizhi sighed, and without considering herself an outsider, walked straight to her own little bamboo chair and sat down, her movements revealing a hint of annoyance.

"Don't even mention it."

She tugged at her shawl, somewhat annoyed. "Father decreed a grand Mid-Autumn Festival banquet to bring good luck to Mother. I just went to the Imperial Kitchen and glanced at the menu they prepared, and it's still the same old three dishes."

"Which three?"

Su Mu shoveled the powder in the basin and poured some milk into the center.

"Steamed buns, flatbreads, and that reunion cake that can kill someone."

Li Lizhi looked disgusted. "It's called a reunion cake, but it's actually just a big lump of dough stuffed with some date paste and lard, baked until it's rock hard."

Every year when we eat that, we have to prepare a pot of strong tea to help us swallow it, otherwise several of us will choke to death.

"That's it! That's it!"

Little Sizi finally managed to swallow the osmanthus cake in her hand, then exaggeratedly made a big circle with both hands, "That cake is no good!"

It's so hard! It'll hurt my head if I hit it!

Su Mu chuckled: "Why are you hitting your head with a pancake? Practicing Iron Head Kung Fu?"

"Not a fight."

Little Si shook his head vigorously, "It was Uncle Cheng! At the banquet last year, Uncle Cheng got drunk and hit Uncle Yuchi on the head with a biscuit, causing a big bump! It was so scary!"

Su Mu imagined the scene.

Two top-ranking military generals of the Tang Dynasty were fighting each other with dried rations called "reunion cakes" but actually weapons, while a group of people cheered them on.

This scene is indeed a kind of violent aesthetic.

It's like a former office worker using a company-issued mooncake to crack a walnut – that means it's really hard!

"That's pretty terrible."

Su Mu didn't stop working.

He mixed glutinous rice flour, rice flour, and wheat starch in a specific ratio.

Each of these three powders has its own uses.

Glutinous rice flour is responsible for softness, rice flour for stickiness, and wheat starch for translucency.

"Then what are you doing?"

Li Lizhi curiously leaned closer, looking at the bowl of thin, runny batter. "Is this also for making pancakes? Why does it look like paste?"

I guess so.

Su Mu poured milk, condensed milk, and a little salad oil into the powder, stirred it with chopsticks, and sifted it. "But I'm not making the kind of weapon that can be used as a concealed weapon. This year, I'll make you a different kind of moon."

"A different moon?"

Little Sizi's eyes lit up. She stood on tiptoe, gripping the cutting board, and peered intently into the basin. "Is it soft?"

"Soft and sweet."

Su Mu poured the mixed batter into a shallow plate, covered it with a layer of plastic wrap (actually just a thin layer of parchment paper), poked a few holes in it, and put it in a steamer. "And it will be molten in the center."

"Molten center?"

This term is slightly beyond the comprehension of the natives of the Tang Dynasty.

>