"Compared to a conservationist... this isn't an animal attendant, a conservationist is the pinnacle of professionalism."
"Which family does this young girl belong to? She's embarrassing."
"Tsk tsk tsk, it's been a while since we've seen a good show. Daring to bet with a conservationist, perhaps she has some skills."
...
The hushed whispers in the restaurant revolved around Lu Mingming. Everyone seemed to have low expectations for her abilities, but Lu Mingming was completely unfazed, accepting the challenge with firmness and composure: "Okay."
Seeing Lu Mingming agree so readily, the conservationist suspected foul play but quickly reassured himself: she's just a young girl, what is there to be afraid of? How could Xing Fu Xing possibly have intermediate or advanced conservationists? Moreover, the other party hasn't even gotten certified.
The conservationist, already confident of victory, condescendingly declared, "Since that's the case, I won't make it difficult for you, lest others say I won unfairly. Let's compete with the simplest pasta!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the customers praised the conservationist for being so kind to a troublemaker, even puffing him up to the point where his tail was almost wagging.
Lu Mingming had no opinion on what to make. Due to a genetic illness when she was young, she could only stay at home. In her free time, she learned various dishes. Although she wasn't a five-star chef, in the interstellar era, she was confident that whatever she made would taste better than the other person.
Lu Mingming nodded, half-crouched, and gently rubbed the little white tiger's head to soothe it, "Wait for me obediently, I'll make you a delicious shredded chicken soup noodle later."
The little white tiger showed no outward reaction, but the tip of its fluffy tail honestly hooked her little finger for a pinky promise.
Lu Mingming gently pinched the tip of its tail, smiled, and then followed the conservationist into the kitchen.
As the best restaurant in a large amusement park, it had all sorts of utensils and ingredients. Lu Mingming casually selected a hen fed in the countryside, a few wood ears, and some scallions – these three items were particularly abundant in the back kitchen, seemingly unpopular.
As expected, the conservationist, holding a packet of frozen fresh shrimp, frowned upon seeing Lu Mingming's choices: "Don't waste my time. Chickens have a bunch of dirty innards, wood ears have no flavor, and scallions smell awful. Don't you even know these basic things?"
Hearing the words, Lu Mingming smiled faintly. What could be more fragrant and rich than soup stewed from an old hen?
"Good intentions are thrown to the wind."
The conservationist muttered under his breath and turned to continue with his own tasks.
Lu Mingming, in a serious manner, tied on an apron and put on white gloves. After completing her preparations, she began to unpack the fresh-keeping box containing the old hen. A whole chicken was revealed in the back kitchen, still carrying a strong smell of blood.
Clearly, this chicken had just been slaughtered and delivered.
With the ingredients meeting her requirements, Lu Mingming directly swung her knife and split the old hen in half, extracting the innards one by one with clean and swift movements, without any hesitation.
The bloody innards filled the room with a rusty scent, mixed with the characteristic fishy odor of a deceased fowl.
While handling the frozen shrimp, the conservationist's attention was drawn to it. Despite being quite scared, he squinted and peeked, covering his nose and mouth to prevent himself from gagging.
Could this... could this possibly taste good?
Lu Mingming, unaware of her competitor's thoughts, unceremoniously placed the entire hen into the pressure cooker with water and set the time for stewing.
This was one of the advantages of the interstellar world; high-tech kitchenware was incredibly convenient. What might take an entire morning to stew into a thick, original chicken soup on Earth could be done in a mere fifteen minutes in the interstellar world, yielding a pot of rich broth.
Wood ears were even easier to handle. Lu Mingming blanched the wood ears in warm water and then sliced them. During the spare time, she boiled the dragon-beard noodles until they were nine-tenths done, then drained them and tossed them with sesame oil to prevent them from sticking together.
The essence of everything was in the chicken soup in the pressure cooker.
However, the conservationist was unaware of this. Upon seeing only a plate of wood ear slices and a pitiful portion of noodles in front of Lu Mingming, he began to mock her again, "I'm telling you, my fresh shrimp noodles are destined to win. You can seriously consider how you'll apologize later, and your little tiger too, it was glaring at me just now! Apologize together!"
Hearing about the little white tiger, Lu Mingming glanced over. The conservationist was cooking the shrimp and noodles together, making her momentarily doubt reality: was he planning to make noodle dumplings? The noodles would likely be overcooked, and the frozen shrimp might not even be cooked through!
Taking a closer look, she noticed a basin of cooking wine by the conservationist's side, its strong aroma masking the natural sweetness and tenderness of the shrimp, making Lu Mingming suspect that his noodle dish would turn out to be a wine noodle dish, not a fresh shrimp noodle dish.
He clearly hadn't removed the shrimp veins, and the entire countertop and trash can were spotless.
On Earth, most people preferred to remove the shrimp veins because they are part of the shrimp's digestive tract, and many people found it unpleasant. If not cleaned properly, it would affect the texture of the shrimp, making the meat sandy and astringent, which Lu Mingming at least could not accept.
Lu Mingming's calm gaze shifted to the conservationist's barely concealed proud face. She didn't say a word – her patience was reserved for the little white tiger; she didn't have such a good temper with others.
Gradually, the conservationist felt an inexplicable eeriness from Lu Mingming's expressionless stare and ceased his chatter.
Fifteen minutes passed in a flash. The pressure cooker's valve began to emit the final wisps of steam, and an exceptionally fragrant aroma filled the room, whetting everyone's appetites. The scent wafted through the door cracks into the dining area. The customers waiting outside, upon smelling the overwhelming aroma, poked their heads out towards the kitchen.
"This must be the conservationist's work. Only those with a certification can make such a delicacy! The young girl is bound to lose. Little tiger, remember to comfort your guardian later."
Facing the thoughtful comfort from the customer at the next table, the little white tiger's tightly closed eyes casually parted slightly, then returned to its previous unmoving posture, continuing to rest on its large paws.
Did she need to think further? This aroma must be hers; it only needed to wait calmly for victory.
In the back kitchen.
"How is this possible!"
Contrary to the customers' expectations, the conservationist was the first to panic. Such a perfect and tantalizing aroma was actually emanating from the pressure cooker where she was stewing chicken. He had been making food for so many years without producing such a fragrance!
Don't rush, don't rush, maybe it just smells good.
When Lu Mingming brought out the chicken soup next, he finally experienced what it meant to be slapped in the face.
After being stewed, the chicken was all tender, flavorful, and succulent, looking incredibly rich and juicy. The chicken soup was clear, light, and not greasy, emitting a rich, fresh aroma. The surface of the white porcelain bowl was covered with a layer of golden oil flowers from the simmering, making one's appetite surge, eager for a bowl immediately.
Lu Mingming hadn't eaten all morning, so smelling this scent made her a bit hungry. She first ladled a small bowl of chicken soup to warm her stomach – fortunately, her skills hadn't deteriorated. The rising steam directly hit her face, the chicken was tender and smooth, and the broth deeply stimulated her taste buds. The aroma of the meat and the chicken soup had completely merged.
Watching this, the conservationist swallowed along with Lu Mingming's actions, as if he were also drinking it.
He wiped the corner of his mouth and tentatively asked, "Can I have a taste of this bowl of noodles?"
Was she that greedy?
Lu Mingming's eyes widened slightly, then she understood. Judging by the restaurant's operations and her previous livestreams, many therianthropes chose meats like beef, lamb, and seafood. Few might have eaten poultry.
Lu Mingming wasn't stingy, so she ladled a bowl and handed it to him, adding some wood ear slices.
The conservationist carefully took it. The small porcelain bowl was tiny compared to his rough hands. The emanating aroma was incredibly potent and enticing, and as Lu Mingming brought it over, the overwhelming fragrance further stirred the heart.
His nostrils twitched, and he was already eager to take the first bite.
What kind of feeling was this?
The surface of the chicken was coated with a layer of golden yellow, the oil sheen clearly visible and glistening. The chicken soup and chicken, just out of the pot, were still hot. He blew on it as he ate, the scalding, fragrant, and fresh taste stimulating his tongue and mouth. With one bite, it instantly slid into his stomach and merged with his body. Even though it burned his tongue, he didn't want to put down his chopsticks.
Half of the bowl of chicken noodles was quickly gone; he simply couldn't stop. The taste was absolutely explosive. It was his first time drinking chicken soup and eating chicken. The rich, pure broth was perfect, and the wood ears were crisp and refreshing. Towards the end, he ate a spoonful of soup with a bit of wood ear, imagining how much more complementary it would be with the dragon-beard noodles.
One bite wasn't enough; he almost ate his tongue off, wishing he could lick the bottom of the bowl clean.
Looking at the oil flowers around the edge of the bowl, the conservationist painlessly vowed: from now on, he would even dilute water to drink all the remaining oil flowers.
While the conservationist was still in a daze, Lu Mingming shredded the remaining chicken. After a quick blanch in hot water, the dragon-beard noodles were drained. The already stewed chicken soup was ready to be used.
After blanching the dragon-beard noodles, they were ladled with the chicken soup, topped with wood ear slices and scallions, and a steaming bowl of chicken soup noodles was ready.
Lu Mingming, wearing heat-resistant gloves, carried the noodles out of the back kitchen. The people in the restaurant never expected it to be her who came out first. Amidst greetings of "Who won?", before they could even ponder, they were captivated by the aroma that had penetrated their very beings.
People at several nearby tables craned their necks to look, and some even followed behind Lu Mingming, wanting to ask questions several times but not daring to speak.
Everyone spontaneously formed a circle around the little white tiger's seat, eagerly awaiting Lu Mingming's noodles. It seemed they were more like cubs about to be fed, and no one paid any attention to the conservationist's creation.