Gourmet: From a Stall in Northern Europe

Chapter 472 - 384: Delicious Century Egg Meatballs and Sweet and Sour Crispy Guobaorou

"Oh right, we forgot to eat the meatballs."

The three of them walked back while putting on black rubber gloves and then noticed that the bowl of meatballs was still quietly sitting on the table, untouched by anyone.

On the contrary, Zhao Shun was casually grabbing a couple and stuffing them into his mouth, mumbling something as he chewed, but they couldn’t understand it anyway.

These peculiarly colored greenish-gray meatballs had a distinct scent of century egg’s alkaline flavor, strong enough to almost overshadow the meat’s aroma.

However, they weren’t afraid. Each took two, then passed the bowl of meatballs to the person behind them.

As long as it’s not eating century eggs plain, it’s all good~

They weren’t new to these handmade Great Xia meatballs; they had a general idea of the texture from past experiences.

Mainly, they were curious to see what kind of magical reaction would occur after adding century eggs.

The pork meatball melted in their mouth just as they remembered, disintegrating with a light touch of the tongue.

Strangely, instead of a meaty aroma, the dissolving released a strong century egg alkaline scent.

The intensity of this alkaline flavor was almost comparable to eating a plain century egg, but without the peculiar taste, leaving only the rich aftertaste of the yolk.

As they chewed, the fat in the meatball burst open, with the rich lard blending with the century egg flavor, elevating it straight to the mind.

The odd yet wonderful texture left them momentarily speechless, standing still, savoring the changing flavors of the meatballs.

Just when they thought it was over, a faint onion aroma spread, dispersing much of the initial greasiness.

The three layers of flavors were like gentle waves crashing on their tongues, distinct yet clearly connected.

Nagishiro Sho was somewhat familiar with this, as various meatballs are a Sakura cuisine specialty, though Sakura cuisine tends to preserve the original taste of ingredients without such complex flavors.

Raphael and Marchello were genuinely surprised once more. They didn’t expect Great Xia people to create something new with meatballs made from minced pork.

They had observed Old Chen’s meatball-making process earlier, absorbing nearly all of the details.

The most evident difference between these Great Xia meatballs and the Western ones was the fat-to-lean ratio.

Western meatballs primarily use lean meat, first baking then boiling, to extract all juices and fats during the lengthy cooking process.

This extract is then used to make a rich, meat-flavored tomato sauce, which tastes excellent when paired with pasta.

The difference between meat sauce pasta and tomato sauce meatballs is that one uses sautéed minced meat cooked into the sauce, while the other uses cooked meatballs added into the sauce.

The former includes many spices and basil, while the latter preserves the original flavor.

Apart from these differences, the basic process is quite similar.

Great Xia meatballs are made entirely differently from Western ones.

They use a meat mixture primarily of fat, adding cooking wine during mixing to remove the meaty odor. Starch is also added to increase the meat’s adhesion, retaining juices and moisture, creating a melting texture upon consumption.

The cooking process doesn’t take one to two hours like Western meatballs, only a few to a dozen minutes, perfectly preserving the meatballs’ juices.

The two methods are extremes.

Logically speaking, adding so much fat should make it greasy, but it surprisingly tastes lean.

That’s a bit miraculous.

Maybe the elasticity of the century egg white mixed in creates an illusion of eating lean meat?

Most importantly, the remaining flavor from the processed century egg should be acceptable to ordinary diners.

Whether they can accept it isn’t that crucial; what’s vital is the diners’ reception.

As chefs, they’ve tasted countless flavors and have become somewhat immune to strange flavors, their reactions not so dramatic.

Ordinary people might not agree.

Quietly, they accepted the meat mallet from Zhao Shun, as they spread the slices of tenderloin on cling film, pounding them while observing everyone’s reactions out of the corner of their eyes.

Most present were accustomed to Great Xia cuisine, so their feedback didn’t hold much significance.

Their main focus was on Su, Lucinda, Helena and her family, John, Magna, and Daniel.

John and Magna had been coming frequently to taste the food recently, and although their tolerance had increased, there were still things they couldn’t eat.

Unlike Dais and Elsa, who nearly had Great Xia cuisine at every meal, their palates had adapted to it about seventy percent.

The bowl with century egg meatballs circulated among the crowd, each person instinctively taking only two before passing it on.

Nobody knew how much more good food awaited; there was no need to waste stomach space on just one dish — a taste was sufficient.

"Why do I find these century egg meatballs tastier than the previous cold dish? If there were a sauce to dip them in, they’d taste even better!"

"Huh? You like these? I prefer the cold dish; these meatballs have a strange texture, too much fat for me, I can’t handle it."

"Don’t you think the cold dish’s flavor is too strong?"

"It is somewhat, but the century egg isn’t seasoned much, so it pairs well. That pickled chili pepper’s flavor is quite nice, the ginger was fresh and not too spicy."

"Darling, how does it taste?"

"Delicious! This black egg looks a bit ugly, but it tastes pretty good."

"If you like it, Daddy can give you this one too."

"No need, Daddy. My appetite is small, and I want to try more of the delicious things later. One meatball is enough, and this one is for you~"

"Uh... thank you, my princess."

Marchello and Raphael quickly scanned the room and immediately withdrew their gaze.

Surprisingly, the feedback is quite positive?

Except for Lisa’s father, who seems a bit unable to accept it, even Little Lisa found it tasty, which was unexpected for them.

But relying only on these people’s feedback is far from enough; more feedback must be collected.

For example, the employees in their own restaurant.

The feedback from those guys is more convincing because they are completely unfamiliar with Great Xia Cuisine and won’t be influenced by taste preferences.

Old Chen quickly chopped seven or eight slices of meat, gathered all the meat slices from everyone, washed and kneaded them several times with clean water, and then squeezed out the excess water.

Sprinkle a little salt, quickly mix evenly, and stir until the meat slices become slightly sticky.

Drain the surface water from the pre-soaked potato starch, break it apart with five fingers, then add clean water spoon by spoon, stirring until it becomes a thick paste, similar to a non-Newtonian fluid, then pour the meat slices in to coat both sides thoroughly with the batter.

After mixing, the batter should be slightly flowing, neither too thin nor too dry, as any of these would affect the taste of the final product.

Lastly, drizzle a little salad oil and continue mixing, so that the batter becomes crispier during the frying process.

The oil in the pot is now slowly starting to bubble.

Dip the tip of the chopstick into the batter and insert it, waiting two or three seconds until dense bubbles start rising.

Old Chen withdrew the chopstick, increased the heat, quietly waited for over a minute, and then re-inserted the chopstick.

This time, almost instantly, the batter on the tip of the chopstick began to bubble intensely.

He nodded in satisfaction, picked up a slice of meat, and gently slid it down the oil surface.

Just three or four seconds after the meat slice sank to the bottom of the pot, it was pushed up by countless bubbles, emitting a rich aroma of oil.

Although he didn’t say anything, just that simple step of testing the oil temperature made the three head chefs’ eyes light up, prompting them to quickly take out their phones to record it.

There’s hardly any oil temperature testing in Western cuisine because they have all the tools and just use an oil temperature gun to scan it.

But Chinese cuisine is different, relying entirely on the chef’s personal experience.

If they don’t note down this step, they won’t be able to find the correct temperature when they try to recreate the dish, and won’t be able to fry the meat slices with the same taste.

Old Chen’s movements were incredibly skilled, and soon the entire pot was filled with pale yellow slices of meat.

He didn’t touch these pieces but let them continue floating in the oil pot.

After about half a minute, he scooped them up with a strainer, checking each piece individually with chopsticks, gently separating any stuck together.

Keeping the heat unchanged, he maintained high heat for about thirty seconds, then re-fried the meat slices in the pot.

Another thirty seconds, he scooped them out again and continued waiting.

This time he waited longer until the oil pot started to smoke faintly, then tossed the meat slices back in.

Frying while stirring constantly to avoid uneven heating, which could cause the meat slices to burn.

Old Chen kept a close watch on the slices of meat bobbing up and down in the pot, occasionally tapping with a slotted spoon to feel the crispness of the batter.

When the meat slices were scooped out again, the previous white color had completely disappeared, turning into a golden crispy hue with streaks of deep red peeking through.

"Crack, crack, crack, crack."

When the meat slices were poured into the bowl, the coating made a crisp sound, as if it was a bowl of potato chips being tossed in.

Move the oil pot aside and replace it with a wok on the stove, scoop a little hot oil to coat the wok, and heat on high until it smokes.

Mix the pre-prepared sweet and sour sauce, pour it in, and quickly stir with a spatula.

In about twenty seconds, the sauce gradually thickened.

Old Chen scooped up a ladle of sauce, tossed in the pre-cut vegetables, then added the fried meat slices, drizzling sauce over them, while vigorously shaking the wok with the other hand.

The golden fried meat slices mixed with threads of red, green, and white flew in the air, releasing a pungent vinegar aroma.

It took just a few seconds.

Off the heat, out of the wok!

The freshly cooked pot-wrapped meat had a shiny, glaze-like sauce coating on the surface, with ribbons of colorful vegetables scattered over it, and a rich sweet and sour aroma wafting out in waves.

"Cough, cough... cough..."

"Achoo!"