NOVPUBChapter 1131: Chapter 1131: Feeling as if an arrow pierced my chest, it hurts _1 Chapter 1131 -1131: Feeling as if an arrow pierced my chest, it hurts _1 It was observed that Cindy Clarke utilized a knife ot cut a few slices from the upper part of the ham.
The sliced meat was as thin as a cicada’s wing, translucent at the exposure of sunlight.
Most of the meat in the upper area was fat, containing minimal lean meat, with some parts consisting of purely fat.
Despite the removal of as much fat as possible during curing, it remained greasy.
Some of the meat was usually used for making soup.
Was Cindy planning to use this particular part to make soup?
This part of the meat was not expensive, and using just a small portion kept the cost low.
...
From the perspective of restaurant pricing, most customers found it acceptable.
Mason Lawson’s expression relaxed somewhat.
He appreciated chefs who considered the diners’ needs.
A chef’s success stems from the acknowledgement of the diners.
Then, Cindy cut off some parts near the ham’s joint using a cleaver.
Not much was cut, only about the size of a fist.
The ends were cut off, but the general shape of the ham was left intact.
Cindy then returned the cleaver and ham to their original positions.
From Cindy’s choice, Mason could perceive her reverence for ingredients.
This aspect met the standard.
Mason Lawson remained expressionless.
Cindy then fetched a chicken and an old duck from the refrigerator.
Seeing this, Mason contemplated, was she really planning to make soup?
The taste of soup made with ham, chicken, and old duck wouldn’t disappoint.
Just thinking about it allowed Mason to imagine the taste.
If the old duck was prepared well, leaving no strange taste, the soup would have the natural sweetness of chicken.
The smoked and salty aroma of the ham would enhance the soup.
Then to Mason’s surprise, Cindy fetched a pork knuckle.
She halved the chicken and duck, keeping only half.
The other half was returned to the refrigerator, without waste.
Cindy performed a quick boil for the chicken, duck, and pork knuckle to remove some impurities, making sure the soup from the continuous simmering wouldn’t develop a layer of foamy blood, creating a bad taste and murky color.
After the quick boil, she rinsed the components and removed the foam stuck to their surfaces.
Green onions were sliced, ginger was cut, and they were added into the pot with chicken, duck, pork knuckle, plus a few dried scallops.
She started simmering the soup.
While the soup was simmering, she was also delicately removing the foam from the surface.
Throughout the process, the soup was kept clear.
Due to limited time, Cindy could not simmer the soup for several hours.
Thus, when she picked the ingredients such as ham and chicken, she didn’t pick large pieces.
While the soup was simmering, Cindy fetched pork loin, chicken breast, and duck breast.
Mason noticed that Cindy was evidently not making a soup dish.
A dish name faintly formed in his mind.
But he thought, would Cindy make such a major dish on her first day?
The dish seemed uninspiring at a glance but was commonly served at state banquets.
The process was complex.
Mason didn’t interrupt, and saw Cindy mince all the meats.
“Why doesn’t she use a meat grinder?” a student couldn’t help but ask.
So far, apart from not being able to guess what Cindy planned to do, they could not point out any mistakes in her method.
They felt helpless.
Some students felt impatient and tried to find faults with trivial issues.
But Mason had a hunch about what Cindy was intending to prepare.
He responded calmly, “The texture of the meat ground by a grinder isn’t as firm as when manually minced.
Although machines are helpful, some cuisines require artisanal skills.”
Mason glared, and the student retracted their neck, not daring to speak anymore.
“Everyone has been here for almost a year and yet they can say something as simple as that.” Mason shook his head and jotted something down on the form.
The student turned pale.
They all knew what Mason was documenting.
The teachers under Pingla Academy were fond of carrying around grade charts, noting the student’s daily mistakes.
These would be deducted from the final exam scores.
No chances for luck were allowed.
At this point, the classroom was filled with the aroma of the soup.
The sweetness from the chicken and duck, the deep smell from the pork knuckle, and the smoky flavor from the ham quickly pervaded the entire classroom.
Initially, the dog days of summer had dampened their appetites.
Even with the air conditioning, they had no appetite.
But now that they were exposed to the aroma of the soup, some people were already getting hungry.
Cindy opened the pot, and the broth was a beautiful tea color.
Cindy extracted the soup, not using the ingredients within.
She deliberately selected a glass bowl, the clarity of the soup was fully visible, and she then put it in the refrigerator to cool.
In the meantime, Cindy mixed the minced meat with egg whites.
Having cooled the broth, she fetched it back, but the mixed meat into the soup, and slowly increased the heat while stirring the broth continuously.
The minced meat and egg gradually turned white, forming large chunks floating on the surface of the broth.
Cindy delicately skimmed off these meat chunks.
She then filtered the soup again.
The color of the soup was somewhat lighter than after the first simmer, and it was crystal clear.
Afterwards, Cindy took the heart of the cabbage, leveled the stem, preserving only the lower part.
She used a fork to prick several holes in the cabbage, facilitating the absorption of flavors.
The lower part of the cabbage was placed in the broth, steamed until cooked, then cooled in cold water and finally sliced to look like a lotus flower.
At a glance, it resembled a flower bud.
She then put the prepared cabbage into a shallow, white plate.
And carried it to the front of Mason.
Soon followed by a jug of stock.
“It’s ready.” Cindy announced.
This dish would normally consume considerable time.
Although Cindy took some shortcuts, not a single moment was wasted.
The entire process was meticulously managed, making the best use of each minute and second.
In spite of the air conditioning, she was perspiring.
“It really is boiled cabbage.” Mason looked at Cindy with a complicated expression.
“New first-year students usually just need to ensure that their culinary presentations don’t make mistakes and display their creativity and cleverness.
They don’t need to create dishes of such high difficulty.
Simple dishes, such as sweet and sour pork or the Wellington steak, are acceptable.”
Cindy: “…”
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Cindy was taken aback, “I thought, given the high standards of Pingla Academy’s students, the requirements would also be lofty.
Ordinary dishes would probably not be appreciated by the teachers and fellow students.”
Lawson: “…”
How dreadful or difficult did she interpret Pingla Academy to be?
Classmates: “…”
They felt a pain in their chests, as if pierced by an arrow.
“Um!” Cindy had indeed regarded Pingla Academy as an institution with high difficulty, “So what did everyone make initially?”
Classmates: “…”
They didn’t want to answer, suddenly feeling somewhat embarrassed.
“Roast chicken, roast duck, steak, and various fried dishes, all common in restaurants.
However, they were enhanced with our own ideas leading to minor changes.” Mason gave an outline.
As these were just small changes, they did not stand out.
Cindy thought about it; even these dishes, with some individual adjustments, were not too difficult.
