Carrying a chef’s dream is from watching Master Xing’s “God of Food” as a child, the last sentence: “In fact, there is no God of Food in the world, it can also be said that everyone is God of Food, regardless of the big sister, little sister, uncle and aunt, as long as there is a heart, everyone can be God of Food.” My heart was pounding. But before going to college I have been little talent for cooking, generally on a whim to do a meal to honor my parents in exchange for a beating, saying I wasted food.
When I went to college, probably because I was not used to the diet of Southeast Asia, I suddenly got the hang of it, steamed, fried, fried and cooked to become good at everything.
I am not a very fine cook, knife work, not to mention carving carrots, cut the vegetables evenly without chopping is over the top, so I like to do large dishes, such as stewed elbows, two and a half pounds of elbows on the fire to start the pig’s hair, the whole thrown into the pot blanching, looking at the white skin and red meat in the boiling water tumbling, very a bit of a perverted crime scene feeling. I cook another characteristic, is mixed, I always believe that a dish to five flavors to be considered a delicacy, just like the day to five flavors to call life.
Also take the elbow for example, after blanching I will dump all kinds of ingredients into the pot, which has pepper, Chinese onion, ginger, garlic cloves, chili pepper, cinnamon, allspice, soy sauce, sugar, salt, Pixian bean paste, ketchup, Mrs. Le, in no particular order, of course, how much dosage is not willing to elaborate. In the middle of the fire three times, boiling pot over medium heat, slow stewing over high heat to collect the juice, a pot cover end is a thick fragrance overflowing color attractive, bite sure sweet, sour, bitter, spicy and salty all in, sour is ketchup, sweet is sugar, butter, spicy is chili bean, salty is soy sauce, as for the bitter – messy throw so many things in, not bitter is strange.
But the bitterness is like a shy little girl hiding among the other four flavors, so that diners at the table can’t think of and my parents like beating me up and saying I wasted food.
The first dish I made for my mom after I returned home from college was this stewed elbow, and my mom ate it with a mouth full of oil and still forgot to praise me: “What a big piece of food!” I was stunned and asked my mom where the words came from, and she pointed to a whole piece of meat in front of her: “Such a big piece, what is it if not a big piece of feast.”
I really don’t know how such an uneducated mother raised a talented me.
Cooking together, but also in the innovation, try the previous people dare not try to think of the previous people have not thought. Of course, this innovation can not be blind, I can responsibly tell you, watermelon fried pork liver is not good at all. Once I ate ChiliConCarne (chorizo soup), I thought the taste with tortillas was too heavy, and pasta with the opposite should complement each other, so I bought Pasta and canned tuna, fried the can with lard, onions and peppers, added ChiliConCarne soup ingredients package, did not put peas and other complicated things. Once the cooked pasta was rolled in the sauté pan, it was snapped up as soon as it was served, and the two large 500g bags of pasta made it difficult for three people to move an inch or more, making ChiliConCarne Pasta a regular signature dish, beating all the mainstream pasta dishes such as eggplant bolognese with olive oil and creamy squid sauce. Then I took advantage of the heat and introduced spaghetti with marinara, spaghetti with lamb whistle, and spaghetti with Beijing sweet noodle sauce, which proved to be all fucking nonsense, showing how important creativity is in cooking.
A cooking enthusiast’s love for food seems to be poured into the cooking process, as for the taste and texture of the finished product itself does not bring any intuitive enjoyment, rather it is the evaluation of the dish by others that is the source of pleasure for the cook.
I remember the former Ms. Wu was invited to my home for a meal, I began to purchase ingredients in the morning, until the meal was served, a full three hours of work. Although there were only two of us, I made four dishes: eggplant with Sichuan spices, loin with pepper and salt, pork ribs with sweet and sour sauce, and sea bass in a pot. When Miss Wu reached out, my heart was as apprehensive as when I looked at the other party who was indecisive and pensive when confessing his love, with apprehension and expectation.
Ms. Wu tasted each of the four dishes and told me with a look of approval that I was the best cook she had ever seen in real life.
And non-realistic? Cook better than me? I eagerly asked.
“Chinese Little Pawn!” Miss Wu spread a smile.
As an amateur cook, I found this compliment to be more pleasing than most sweet words in a relationship. Maybe that’s why after the breakup, Miss Wu and I are still friends with each other. The world is not stingy with praise and can itchy partners, there are really not many.
Writing here I am reminded of the miserable fat, fat cooking skills are very high, probably with his big face and thick neck born like a man, and fat unlike my kind of amateur straw-headed cooks, he took the third-class chef’s license, considered to be from the class. The fat man is very careful in cooking, really do not tire of fine food is not tired of fine. Cooking fine, the speed is also slow, often prepare a table of dishes to a whole afternoon, but also to prepare two people to play hands, cooking when the fat man yelled five, quite a chef style, is very powerful.
As a professional, the fat man is not used to my style of cooking with all kinds of ingredients in a big pot, emphasizing what ingredients with what practice to put what spices are rigorous, but still salivating over the five flavors of elbows I made, gnawing hands full of dripping, proving once again that sophisticated cooks eat not so many rules and requirements.
Once a group of Chinese students came to live in Manila, and Fatty, as a third-class chef, naturally had to take charge of the banquet that night. In the morning, Fatty took two of his brothers – including me out of the door, in the vegetable market around several times, pick a potato to see the skin compared to picking a daughter-in-law on Lily.com are looking seriously, tired of me and another brother screaming in pain. The fat man came back and moved his hands, usually moving like a mountain collapse of the sturdy body in the kitchen shuttle like a flying swallow, so I was amazed half a day. Fatty while cooking also sang a song, feeling very bright mood, I curiously asked him to cook on cooking, what can be happy, the ingredients but we pay for their own money. The fat man smiled: “You are still too young, do not see the girls in Manila to come two particularly beautiful it? The girl wants to marry a cooking bully good lifetime mouth blessing, see your brother a meal to capture the heart.” I then suddenly realized that I could not help but admire the fat man’s foresight for a rainy day.
Fatty did not let the helpers participate this time, seasoning marinade cut pier upside down spoon blanching one person package, tired and sweaty as usual two hands flip non-stop, so I seem to see a white hair doing the Buddha jumping wall of the God of Food Master. It is a pity that the two girls in the mouth of the fat man are not there, otherwise they are bound to be overwhelmed by the glowing heroic posture of the fat man at the moment.
The first thing I did was to ask when I was going to eat, and then I went back to my room to shower and dress.
Eight o’clock meal, the food is cold half, I said hot and then on the table, the fat man disdainful snort: “back to the pot taste can still be the same? Amateur is an amateur.”
I speechless, greeted the crowd to eat.
At the table, the fat man did not move his chopsticks and looked eagerly at the group of people gorging around the table.
I heard them talking about their day at Baguio today, their plans for tomorrow, their colorful nightlife at night, and who had failed their final exams and who had gotten a Filipino girlfriend this semester.
The cheeks were stuffed with fat people preparing meals, but they never mentioned anything about the color and flavor. But one of the pretty girls expressed her affection for my elbow and said she wanted to learn from me and go back to her boyfriend to do it.
I watched the fat man’s eyes turn from eagerness to disappointment, then to resentment, and finally to gloom.
That night a table of food, he did not move a bite, the evening soaked two packs of Korean “Sin” brand instant noodles, eat sweaty and teary-eyed.
I sat in front of the fat man to watch him eat noodles, chewing happy beans and drinking beer without saying a word.
After eating the noodles, the fat man asked me: “Today’s meal is not really not good, how no one praised a word, why your unskilled elbow but there are girls like.”
I threw him a can of beer, patted him on the shoulder, comforted a: “The food is particularly good, this thing today, it really has nothing to do with cooking skills, mainly because I look better than you.”
The fat man let out a long sigh.
From then on, the fat man never cooked for strangers, a few of our brothers will occasionally show a hand at dinner, still color and flavor, but always feel a little less than before.
The most important thing is not to let down the heart of a cook who is willing to do food for you, whether he is your parents, your lover, your friend, or just a stranger who wants his cooking to be appreciated.
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