The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 188: Chapter 187: Crispy Fried in Oil Double Crunch and Ruyi Rolls

Translator: 549690339

The stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard, belonging to Shandong cuisine, originated in the middle period of the Qing Dynasty and requires a dish that is rich in color, aroma, taste, and shape, mainly using the method of quick stir- frying in hot oil. The authentic preparation of stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard is extremely difficult, with very strict demands on fire control: one second under and it’s undercooked, one second over and it’s no longer crispy.

The stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard was initially called ‘exploded double slices,’ but because customers praised the dish as being both crisp and tender, it was renamed stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard. The term ‘crispy’ also comes from the fact that the dish is made with pig tripe and chicken gizzards, both of which contain a significant amount of water, earning the dish its name for being exquisitely tender and crisp.

In ‘Records of Garden Cuisine’, it is recorded, “Clean the pig tripe and take the thickest part, removing the skin from both sides, using only the middle, cut into dice-sized pieces, stir-fry in hot oil, add seasoning and remove from the heat when extremely crispy. This is the northern method.” This was the rudimentary form of stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard.

After the hostess introduced the newly joined judges and Han Guishan, who had transitioned from a judge to a special guest, she looked at the rest area with a smile and said sweetly, “The first group of contestants are Zhang Guanghang and Gu Li, with Zhang Guanghang’s competition dish being stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard, and Gu Li’s competition dish being Ruyi Rolls. The competition will start in three minutes, please have both contestants come on stage to prepare.”

“Stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard? That’s something.” Xu Cheng, who had become more demanding with age, was somewhat more lenient toward young chefs, but only just so. Hearing that Zhang Guanghang dared to attempt stir-fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard, his anticipation grew.

“Didn’t you look at the information I gave you?” Han Guishan asked. He had already thoroughly researched the four contestants’ competition dishes: stir- fried crispy pork and chicken gizzard as a renowned dish, Ruyi Rolls that could just pass as a main dish, Sweet and Sour Yam for dessert, and sprouts with braised pork as the grand finale. This tasting order was quite delightful.

If there were just a few bowls of eight-treasure porridge, Han Guishan expressed some regret.

“Knowing ahead of time isn’t interesting; the surprise comes from finding out on the spot,” Xu Cheng said.

The other four judges had varied expressions, all of them looking at Gu Li with complex looks on their faces, remaining silent. Even Pei Shenghua, normally talkative, didn’t speak up.

“What about Ruyi Rolls…” Xu Cheng had just started speaking when he realized, looking towards Gu Li, “It’s actually Ruyi Rolls.”

“What about Ruyi Rolls?” Now, Han Guishan was the only one who was still confused among the judges.

“Ruyi Rolls are a type of pastry from the Manchu Han Imperial Feast, specifically from the Mongolian nobility feasts, which had been lost for some time. They were later restored by Master Tan according to ancient texts and were one of Master Tan’s signature pastries before his death,” explained Xu Cheng.

“Are they difficult?” Han Guishan still didn’t quite understand.

“Very. After Master Tan passed away, no one could reproduce that taste,” Xu Cheng said with regret. It had been nine years since Master Tan’s death, and in all that time, he had never again tasted Ruyi Rolls that satisfied him.

“Actually, Cai Bo, Gu Li’s senior fellow apprentice, also achieved eight-tenths of Master Tan’s skill in making Ruyi Rolls,” Pei Shenghua remarked.

“Only eight-tenths,” Xu Cheng was a demanding connoisseur.

“Let’s wait and see how much of Sir Tan’s true skill he has attained,” Tong Deyan observed Gu Li.

In the rest area, Wu Minqi was also shocked that Gu Li was actually going to make Ruyi Rolls, and after explaining the origins of Ruyi Rolls to Jiang Feng, Wu Minqi remarked, “If he doesn’t make them well, I’m afraid…”

What awaited him would be even more severe cold ridicule and mockery.

They would laugh at his overestimation of his abilities, mock him for disgracing his mentor, and scorn him for tarnishing the reputation of his late master.

For no apparent reason, Jiang Feng thought of Jiang Weisheng.

“Actually, his abilities are not bad.” Jiang Feng, as an observer who was unfamiliar with Gu Li’s past training experiences, expressed his relatively objective opinion, “His foundational skills are very solid, steady and sure. He will become an excellent White Chef.”

“He will,” Wu Minqi agreed. “My grandfather said a long time ago that he would become an even better Master White Chef than Master Tan.”

For over a decade, Gu Li, amidst the mockery and contempt from his peers, persisted in learning and practicing his culinary arts day after day, year after year, never once speaking of giving up, never showing a hint of negligence. Heaven never fails those who are willing to work hard and keep their feet on the ground; if Jiang Weisheng, with such poor talent, could still become a qualified Red Chef, Gu Li’s talent really wasn’t bad. He would only get better and better, reaching heights far beyond those who had once followed suit in mocking him.

Upon careful reflection, Jiang Feng suddenly realized that Gu Li was the one following the protagonist’s template.

Widely recognized as a failure, the disgrace of a master, born into a Culinary Aristocracy, he moved forward step by step under the weight of ridicule, a spitting image of a male protagonist in an inspirational novel.

Now he was just short of a turning point, like astounding everyone by defeating a recognized genius, the underdog overturning expectations, a culinary competition, winning the championship in one fell swoop, former enemies… beneath his feet.

He was just missing a system that fell from the sky or a grandfather sleeping in a kitchen knife.

Jiang Feng’s expression gradually grew complex.

“What’s wrong?” Wu Minqi noticed the change in Jiang Feng’s expression.

“Nothing… nothing at all.”

On the competition ground, Zhang Guanghang had already peeled off the fat and tough tendons from the pork stomach tips, washed them, scored them with a crisscross pattern of knifework, and mixed them with salt and wet starch.

The actual stir-frying of the ‘Double Crunch’ in oil only takes a few minutes, success or failure decided in the blink of an eye, but the preparatory work is very tedious. Chicken gizzards must be cleaned, stripped of their inner and outer sinews and scored with cross-cuts only two millimeters apart, similar to the pork stomach tips, then mixed with salt and wet starch. Each pork stomach tip can only be cut into six pieces, demanding high standards for the ingredients. The thickening sauce requires clear broth, Shaoxing wine, monosodium glutamate, fine salt, wet starch to be mixed together.

Zhang Guanghang’s knifework was exquisite, and he processed the ingredients quickly, which seemed even faster when contrasted with Gu Li’s comparatively slow movements.

The making of Ruyi Rolls was equally meticulous: minced pork was chopped into fine paste, then green onions, ginger, Sichuan pepper, Shaoxing wine, fine salt, monosodium glutamate, wet starch, sesame oil, and white meat broth were added and stirred to form the filling. The meat filling was wrapped with egg crepes to form moderately thick and long rolls, coated with flour, and wrapped into the shape of cloud patterns to create Ruyi Rolls. The rolls were flattened into a round shape and then sliced into thick pieces before being fried.

The preparation method wasn’t a secret; one could find it online. The hardest part was to shape them according to the Ruyi and ensure each slice of meat had a clear cloud pattern on the cross-section. The Ruyi Rolls made by Master Tan years ago had a golden and crisp exterior with tender meat inside. Eating it with Sichuan pepper salt as the old texts documented offered a unique flavor.

Having tasted Master Tan’s Ruyi Rolls, one always found others’ lacking in flavor.

Gu Li’s movements were slow and meticulous, seeking stability in slowness, error-free, having his own rhythm, and not getting flustered.

The oil in Zhang Guanghang’s wok was already heated to seventy percent, the decisive moment was imminent, while Gu Li was still slowly rolling the Ruyi Rolls, unhurried, completely indifferent to his opponent’s progress.

Pork and chicken gizzards were added to the wok, quickly stirred apart with chopsticks, and strained through a colander to drain the oil.

Leaving just a little oil in the wok, green onions, ginger, and garlic were not yet fragrant when poured back in along with the chicken gizzards and pork, the thickening sauce was added, the wok was tossed twice, and in a matter of moments, the dish was done.

Double Crunch, out of the wok!