The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 329: 328: Birthday Cake



Chapter 329: Chapter 328: Birthday Cake

Jiang Feng had a nightmare that night.

It was a terrifying dream, where he dreamed that everyone in the Taifeng Building’s kitchen, including himself, inexplicably turned into Shu people. Even Mr. Jiang Jiankang somehow developed a taste for spicy food. As everyone was from Shu, the hot pot they ate on Jiang Weiming’s birthday wasn’t even a yuan-yang pot. The sight of Sichuan peppercorns and chili peppers twirling in the red oil made Jiang Feng’s scalp tingle.

Everyone kept piling food onto his plate, saying, “Jiang Feng, why aren’t you eating?”

“Jiang Feng, eat!”

“Jiang Feng, this yellow throat fish is really tasty.”

“Jiang Feng, have some duck intestine!”

“Jiang Feng…”

Eventually, it was the spiciness that woke Jiang Feng up.

He awoke in a cold sweat.

Jiang Feng got up and went to the bathroom to wash up. Wu Minqi was already awake, and the millet porridge in the kitchen was bubbling, almost ready to be served.

On the table, there were two salted duck eggs and a small dish of pickles, the pickles brought over from Shu by Wu Minqi, and the salted duck eggs were Gaoyou salted duck eggs given to Jiang Feng by Xu, significantly larger than average, resembling goose eggs more than duck eggs.

The millet porridge in the kitchen was ready. As Wu Minqi served the porridge, Jiang Feng took the salted duck eggs to the cutting board and sliced them open. When the knife went down, the sandy yolk oozed out, revealing double yolks.

“Hey, it’s a double-yolked egg!” Jiang Feng said with surprise. He had eaten double-yolked chicken eggs before but had never seen a double-yolked salted duck egg.

“Double-yolked egg!” Wu Minqi also saw a double-yolked salted duck egg for the first time and couldn’t help looking over at the cutting board.

The large salted duck egg was mostly occupied by the yolk, orange and oily. Jiang Feng sliced open the other egg, which also had double yolks.

“Gaoyou salted duck eggs really live up to their reputation, two in a row both double-yolked,” Jiang Feng remarked.

“They must have been selected on purpose. I’ve heard that larger eggs are more likely to be double-yolked,” Wu Minqi said as she brought the millet porridge to the table.

The two finished their millet porridge with salted duck eggs and pickles. The porridge Wu Minqi made that day was thick with distinct grains of millet, no other ingredients added, golden in appearance, and very light when eaten, pairing well with the sour and spicy pickles and the relatively saltier egg whites.

After finishing two bowls of millet porridge, Jiang Feng wiped his mouth and asked, “So, are we going to Taifeng Building now?”

“Did you forget? Grandpa Jiang is going to Taifeng Building to stir-fry the hot pot base this morning. Mrs. Wang and the others are taking care of the store. Didn’t we agree yesterday that we would go to Fen Garden to help Zhang Guanghang make a birthday cake?” Wu Minqi started cleaning up the bowls and chopsticks.

“Fen Garden? Oh right, I completely forgot.” Jiang Feng slapped his forehead, the dream from last night where he couldn’t eat the yuan-yang pot was too vivid and frightening; he had forgotten that he had agreed with Zhang Guanghang to go to Fen Garden today to help him make a birthday cake for Jiang Weiming’s celebration.

Yes, Zhang Guanghang was not only versed in Chinese, Japanese, and French cuisines but also had commendable skills as a pastry chef who dabbled in desserts.

If one day, Zhang Guanghang took an interest in learning pastry making, Jiang Feng wouldn’t be surprised at all. Who else but Zhang Guanghang could make anything seem reasonable with his handsome looks and talent?

By the time Jiang Feng and Wu Minqi arrived at Fen Garden, Zhang Guanghang’s cake was almost finished, just missing the piping and decorations.

He invited Jiang Feng over to help, of course, to get his advice on the cake’s design, since Jiang Feng was recognized as Taifeng Building’s master of plating.

As for Wu Minqi, it was just a change of scenery for carving watermelons. Carving at home and carving at Fen Garden was all the same to her.

Fen Garden was originally a private kitchen run by Xia Mushi. After Xia Mushi’s death, Zhang Guanghang didn’t change the interior or structure of Fen Garden, keeping it as it was when it was a private restaurant, even leaving the tables and utensils behind.

The birthday cake Zhang Guanghang made for Jiang Weiming was a French-style one, consisting of four different flavors: tiramisu, cheesecake, berry mousse, and matcha ganache. The outer layer was sealed with cream, hiding the quadrants which would only be revealed upon cutting into it.

Such a cake would cost at least 300 yuan upwards in a pastry shop, if not more.

If the pastry shop displayed Zhang Guanghang’s photo and allowed onlookers to watch him work, the price could probably exceed a thousand yuan.

After all, most people who love cake are girls, and those who pursue exquisite birthday cakes are usually girls as well.

Seeing the fruits lined up on the kitchen counter, Jiang Feng asked, “Are you going to make a fruit cake?”

“Yes, if it’s a birthday at home, we usually make this kind of fruit cake,” said Zhang Guanghang. “I just haven’t decided on the design yet. I’m thinking about whether or not to arrange the character ‘寿’ on the cake.”

“No need to be so deliberate. The cake is just a surprise. My family doesn’t have the tradition of eating cakes for birthdays; we usually eat noodles, just like Granduncle Weiming.” Jiang Feng said, glancing over the fruits on the cooking counter, “How about we keep it simple and just use blueberries and raspberries to create a half-pattern?”

“Okay,” nodded Zhang Guanghang. Since Jiang Feng had said so, they would keep it simple.

“By the way, have you made any progress with your Shafu Roast Chicken?” Jiang Feng asked casually.

“Not much progress, I can’t seem to get the hang of it,” Zhang Guanghang began to pick out raspberries. “What about you?”

“I’ve already figured it out,” said Jiang Feng.

Zhang Guanghang’s hand, which was selecting raspberries, paused. He was taken aback and looked at Jiang Feng as if he were looking at a monster.

For chefs, it was quite normal to be stumped by a dish for ten days, a half-month, several months, several years, or even decades, as inspiration is elusive and cannot just appear or be obtained on demand.

Zhang Guanghang was already surprised that Jiang Feng had grasped the essence of Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon so quickly. While Sun Jikai and Wu Minqi had assisted with that dish, the Yun Chicken that Jiang Feng was now working on was entirely his own effort.

For a chef to contemplate and create a satisfying new dish within a mere ten days was nothing short of astonishing, even terrifying in terms of talent.

Zhang Guanghang really found it strange this time. Given Jiang Feng’s talent that made him feel admiration and even inferiority, it was surprising that Jiang Weiguo had been willing to let him give up cooking to focus on his studies.

Zhang Guanghang also remembered when they had chatted casually, and Jiang Feng had self-deprecatingly said that the old master used to scold him for not having enough talent, claiming he was worlds apart from his great-grandfather.

If someone with Jiang Feng’s talent could be criticized for not being talented enough, what sort of person was that great-grandfather he spoke of!

Were all members of the Jiang Family monsters?

“It was just a lucky coincidence. I made Yun Chicken for my second brother yesterday at noon, and somehow I stumbled upon the taste I wanted. After that, it all went smoothly. It was just luck,” Jiang Feng forced an explanation.

“You do have quite some luck,” Zhang Guanghang laughed.

“By the way, do you like Crispy Fragrant Apples?” asked Jiang Feng.

“Crispy Fragrant Apples? What are Crispy Fragrant Apples?” Zhang Guanghang responded with a question.

“You don’t know Crispy Fragrant Apples? Hasn’t Old Sir Xia ever made them for you?” Jiang Feng was surprised.

“I’ve never heard of this dish; is it a dessert?” Zhang Guanghang asked. “My master probably never made it for me, nor did he teach me this dish. I have no recollection of it at all.”

Zhang Guanghang had never tried Crispy Fragrant Apples!

No, rather, Zhang Guanghang didn’t even know what Crispy Fragrant Apples were.

If that was the case, why would the game’s friendly hint suggest that Crispy Fragrant Apples would be a good choice?

After thinking about it, Jiang Feng seemed to know what the Shafu Roast Chicken in Zhang Guanghang’s memory was.

Indeed, elders around the world liked to fool their juniors when they were young and unaware.

Cao Guixiang did so, his Dad did so, the old master did so, and presumably Xia Mushi did too.

“How about after we go to Taifeng Building to wrap rice dumplings, I’ll make you a portion of Crispy Fragrant Apples!” Jiang Feng suggested with a smile.

“This dish is a must on the dinner table during our family’s New Year’s Eve feast. It’s sweet, crispy, and the kids love it.”

Zhang Guanghang: ???

Why did he feel… that Jiang Feng’s smile seemed a little strange?

It was like the sly grin of an ill-intentioned Husky.


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