"I see that you are so young, and you are a teacher of your father?" Zhao Pengcheng became patient and began to ask slowly, "Where is your father now in high school?" As far as he thought, he couldn't teach a daughter like Gong Baorou to be far behind.

Gong Baorou nodded: "Most of my skills came from my father, and after he died, I was guided by my mother. "I didn't hear the last question.

Zhao Pengcheng smiled awkwardly, this was really an accident.

"You're still studying, aren't you?"

"I'm about to go to junior high school, and I'm fifteen years old this year." Many highly skilled chefs begin their culinary training at a very young age, and they can be taught at the age of fifteen.

Zhao Pengcheng snorted, and his fingers began to be on the table little by little, looking like he was thinking about something.

After a while, he looked up and said, "Are you interested in becoming a real chef?" This will most likely require you to abandon your studies. ”

"No," Gong Baorou's reply was surprisingly firm, "no matter what, I will not give up my studies." ”

When Zhao Pengcheng heard her words, his brows furrowed even tighter. After a while, he made a decision: "Summer vacation is coming soon, would you like to go to the Sichuan restaurant of Haicheng Hotel to be a chef." He is still unwilling to give up such a good seedling.

Gong Baorou knows that in some more traditional areas, there is still a saying that there is a master chef and a second chef, and then there is a third chef, and the kitchen worker is a miscellaneous worker. Gong Baorou hesitated. She hasn't planned this summer vacation yet, and she doesn't want to settle it so early. Moreover, it's just a Sichuan restaurant, and it really doesn't take her a summer vacation.

Zhao Pengcheng didn't know Gong Baorou's thoughts, otherwise he would definitely laugh "hehe". There are countless chefs who have spent their lives on Sichuan cuisine, and she actually feels that she still has more time to study in a summer vacation in a Sichuan restaurant.

"Well, how about your salary according to the three chefs?" Zhao Pengcheng gave sincerity.

Gong Baorou knew that refusing again would be a little unaware and interesting, so she said, "Okay, but how to calculate the working hours?" ”

"Nine in the morning to two in the afternoon, five to eight in the evening." Zhao Pengcheng calculated that eight hours of working time was very reasonable.

Gong Baorou nodded. In terms of status, Zhao Pengcheng is just a food consultant of a Sichuan restaurant in Haicheng Hotel, but Sun Fugui is the food consultant of the entire Haicheng Hotel, with Sun Fugui's words, how dare Zhao Pengcheng not let go.

The two of them happily finalized, and Zhao Pengcheng suddenly remembered one thing: "You did the master?" ”

Gong Baorou smiled, and only then did she remember: "I did the master." ”

Zhao Pengcheng smiled, didn't he treat her as a child because Gong Baorou's conversation was too mature.

"July 10th is a holiday, so let's go to work on July 11th. I'll be waiting for you at the Sichuan restaurant. Zhao Pengcheng touched Gong Baorou's head and got up.

Gong Baorou couldn't help but dodge, and got up.

"It's a pleasure to work with."

Soon it was the day of the high school entrance examination, June 19, and the scorching sun was in the sky. Gong Baorou got up early that day, turned on the light and looked at the alarm clock, 4:40. Almost. Gong Baorou went downstairs, and the room was quiet. She reached the kitchen and turned on a small light. There was warm boiled water from last night in the thermos and freshly bought flour in the fridge. Gong Baorou tested the temperature, poured the yeast powder into a cup filled with warm boiled water, stirred, waited for less than ten minutes, saw the yeast powder gurgling and began to bubble, mixed it with the flour in the basin, and slowly added warm water, mixed the flour into a dough, covered it with wet gauze, and waited for it to ferment quietly.

The fermentation time was two hours, and Gong Baorou turned around, and she already had a dish at noon in her heart, snow ear soup. The white fungus was brought from Guangzhou by Lin Zhishen's colleague not long ago, and the pear was carefully selected by Liu Yingai yesterday to make desserts for Lin Shuping. Gong Baorou picked up a white fungus, carefully rinsed one side, cut off the dirt on the pedicle, and then soaked it in a basin filled with water for an hour.

Gong Baorou inspected it, and estimated in her heart whether she had forgotten anything. Suddenly, a light cough sounded, Gong Baorou's heart jumped, and she looked back to see that it was Liu Yingai.

"Aunt Yingai, is there anything wrong with being so late?" As soon as this sentence was spoken, Gong Baorou herself couldn't help laughing.

Liu Yingai blinked: "I'll do what Arou does here." Liu Yingai walked over and grabbed Gong Baorou's hand and frowned, "Why don't you wear a little more, your hands are all cold." ”

"It'll be warm up soon." Gong Baorou smiled, she is like this, she will get cold hands and feet if she doesn't eat in the morning, starting from a very young age, so Zhao Xiuxiu has always blamed herself for not taking care of her.

Liu Yingai sighed: "You are so hard. "Not only do you have to care about Zhao Xiuxiu's thoughts, but you also have to remember Lin Shuping's body here. Liu Yingai has always thought that if it weren't for Zhao Xiuxiu having such a transparent and intelligent daughter, she might have no intention of dying. She also knew that Lin Shuping's body could have such a great complexion in the recent period, and a large part of the credit was on Gong Baorou.

"But I'm also happy." Gong Baorou didn't feel very tired, because she got more inner happiness and satisfaction than a little tiredness in her body, "I feel very happy to be able to live so harmoniously with everyone." I lost my father, but I got more of my family. Not to mention that her feelings for her father are weak, in her memory, the figure of her father has long disappeared, leaving only an abstract symbol, which is the power of time.

"Silly boy." Liu Yingai blinked vigorously and blinked away that little tear.

Gong Baorou smiled indifferently: "Aunt Ying'ai came to guess what I prepared for Brother Shuping." ”

"It's a bun, right, I saw you kneading flour." Liu Yingai looked at Gong Baorou's hand, and there was still a little flour left.

"Yes," Gong Baorou nodded, "I made barbecued pork buns, and I'm going to make a little more oatmeal." It's snow ear soup at noon. ”

Liu Yingai was quite interested: "Is there anything I can help with?" ”

Gong Baorou looked at Liu Yingai, thought for a while, and said, "Can you put oatmeal and milk in a pot and stir it with boiling water?" After stirring well, beat an egg into it, and boil over low heat, this is milk and egg oatmeal, let's pad our stomach first. ”

Liu Yingai readily agreed. Under a bright lamp, the two busy figures looked very harmonious. At the corner of the staircase, which no one saw, a figure quietly left.