And then?

Later, the young man fried a large pot of egg fried rice for him, himself, and another Elta policeman on the night shift...... The name of that pot of fried rice seems to be "Bang Jia shovel golden fried rice?" ”

He doesn't know how to write the first Chinese character, but he only knows whether to pronounce kan or ham?

"Chinese is really the same as Chinese food, broad and ......profound," Pippons, who was slapped down from the dream of an elite chef with a shovel by the young man wielding a shovel, was very disappointed. The bowl of reprimanded young man danced intently with a spatula that was faster than the speed of light and could only be seen, turning the rice that was almost overnight into a delicious dish wrapped in egg wash like a traveler beyond time and space.

"I'm also learning this." He could vaguely remember that the young man changed his harshness and bit the spoon and said humbly: "I am not modest, the one who taught me this is the real master......

Oh, my God. Such a person would not dare to call himself a master. Pippens was eager to plunge into the rice bowl at that time - can he ignore the appearance of eating, is this not a master? I also modestly said that everyone has this level, and the great country across the door is really great, and it's terrible! Even an ordinary middle-aged man has mastered the technique, what is the stir-frying, boiling, frying, frying, simmering, simmering, baking, grilling...... There are more palace delicacies than he has heard of, so what should their culinary masters be? Is it a concept that a stir-fry can be so fragrant that people can swallow their tongues?

Pippons quickly shook his head. The guys in front of them were still holding on to toothpicks and the black lines on the shrimp and couldn't get through. He straddled and bent down to pick up a shrimp from the basin that had just been thrown by some of the fellows, and the black line was clearly not yet clean.

If this is a hand on his own superior, there must be no black line left above. Pippons thought about it, so he took a toothpick out of the jar and neatly picked out the small discordant black line.

The shrimp and fish were soaked in a peculiar white vinegar, lightly salted, wrapped in an egg and flour mixture, and thrown into a hot pan of oil—the men immediately gathered around the cramped doorframe and began to drool, and even the seats in front of the hearth to keep the fire high were in demand.

"Frying", a cooking method that was difficult to see among the commoners and the aristocracy in Elta, required not only a large amount of cooking oil, but also a large, solid, evenly heated iron pan. Both of these were roll-fried, dry-fried, and crisp-fried in the way of the family before the portal was opened - and of course not anymore.

If it had been changed in the past, Pippins, who had "wasted" fat like this, would have been passed on to future generations into absurd luxury stories, but now such a large bottle of cooking oil Pippons poured it all into it without thinking, anyway, he could continue to stir-fry tomorrow, and he didn't care much about the loss.

The only thing that made him unhappy was the kitchen in this house. Even if there is no range hood to take the smoke away, the smell of the wood-burning stove is even more terrible - you must know that the good firewood mixed with fine firewood is still used here, only the stove smoke mixed with the smell of wood burning. Ordinary people can't afford to use such good firewood at home, and all kinds of miscellaneous branches and rotten leaves with moisture can't even burn the oil in the pot, not to mention, the weird smell of the residual water vapor can mess up this pot of food.

Flour is blended with flour and egg mixture. Pippons' proportions are terrible, but that doesn't stop the fried from taking on a shiny golden yellow in the dim light when flipped in the pan.

Before the golden brown turned black, Chef Pippons used a large steel slotter spoon to drain the frying on the crockpot with a wave of his hand. The crockpot has been cleaned beforehand to make sure that there are no cracks, and the oil in the crockpot will be used for stir-frying in the future.

Just one stir-fry pot was not enough for one person, and Pippens fried three pots in a row, piled up with two large clay plates, to clean up all the fish slices and shrimp balls.

"You're all here to clean up your place to eat! You'll have to eat later, don't be there! The president of the chamber of commerce smelled the smell of fried food coming out of the pot, and finally couldn't hold his body anymore. When he strode to the kitchen, he saw a group of guys who were holding on to the door frame and not letting go, and the layers of butts facing him.

Suddenly, Pippons turned to the other stove and calmly lifted the lid of the large soup pot—the head and bones of the fish were not easy to handle.

The water had just been boiled, and there was no fresh smell at all. Pippons shook off a small spoonful of vinegar with a spoon and then closed the lid again.

"It's a pity that the magic pot can't be brought out." He muttered regretfully to the strange-looking soup pot in front of him. That magic pot can make people sit next to the stove for a day to make a sand pen meat and bone broth, and the fish bone soup becomes fragrant in ten minutes.

However, the use of this pot can also be called complicated. The police officer who taught him how to use it said with a serious face at the time that the explosion of this thing was comparable to a small bomb, and the rubber ring of the pot, the pressure valve, and the body of the pot should be carefully checked.

"Slow down the firewood." He leaned over to look at the flames in the hearth and greeted the guy who was in charge of adding firewood. This thing is still not as good as the stove gas that can be plugged in and can be lit and the size of the flame can be adjusted.

In fact, despite the wood and rustic stove, Pippens was satisfied with the size of the kitchen. Behind the chef's two stoves, there is a row of people who can squat down to handle the ingredients, and there is a small compartment for pancakes next door, and a rack for stacking cutlery next door.

Pippons had seen the earthen stove kitchens in his former home, the open stoves on the march, and the crooked "kitchens" in the Eastern and Western military camps. Leftovers were piled up everywhere, leaving traces everywhere of flies, cockroaches, and all kinds of insects that he could or couldn't call everywhere.

The kitchen of this chamber is so much better than the filthy places that are almost the same as toilets. All kinds of cabinets are neatly stacked, and the tableware is at least washed and hung on the wall with ropes.

Iron knives are washed with water by the men on duty every day, and the rust marks on them are polished off little by little. Stainless steel has not yet become popular in Elta, and the kitchen knife that has been honed for thousands of years is also a treasure that can be expensive.

It's just that Elta's kitchen knife is not a Chinese kitchen knife that is longer than a chopping knife, but takes on the shape of a dagger, which is convenient for dissecting animal food. Different from the "normality" of a kitchen knife in the hands of a family member in the land of China for thousands of years, Elta's ordinary family is basically not worthy of this sharp weapon, but allows other knives to wear multiple hats.

Not surprisingly, Pippins, in the days of the shepherds, had no chance to use a special cooking knife. The first time he used a cooking knife was when he was taught how to use a strange Chinese kitchen knife.

Although the style is a little strange, the knife in his hand is almost invincible from cutting shreds, slicing skins, to slaughtering birds and fish. The idle hands of those users hold down the ingredients as if they are attracted and repel each other by the knife, and with their right hands, they chop them on the cutting board in a rhythm that is not clear at all, and at the end of the day, they do not forget to turn around gorgeously and sweep the vegetables or minced meat into the pot with the blade of the knife against the side of the cutting board.

"That's so handsome!" Tim Chai's praise is also Pippons's emotion when he first saw this set of cooking techniques that can be called "juggling", and even his reaction after reading it was the same-

"Little brother, can you teach me this trick?" The guy was already in a pleading tone. "If I can play this trick in front of the girl I love, maybe I will become a ......"

Pippons was already dancing the spatula and said without looking back, "The previous one can teach you." The problem is that you don't have this set of things, and you don't have a place to do it, right? ”

"Well, that's right...... "The man brought another bundle of wood from the pyre, and untied the rope in a dejected manner.

"However, it may not be long before Mendong City sells these tools. As for the price, I don't think it will be expensive. The chef, who was stir-frying the vegetables and thinking about the timing of thickening, mysteriously came up with this sentence.

"How long will it take?" The guy came to the head of the spirit and asked excitedly.

"Hmm...... I think it won't be long before all of Elta can buy it. ”

When he woke up from his sleep again, the light above him was still blinding white—or rather, it was the light that woke him up.

"No. 982, it's time."

"Please, let me go! I've said everything I know, didn't I say that if you confess, you will be lenient?! ”

The plea gradually turned into a roar, but the former Western Expeditionary Officer still couldn't break free from the chair that bound him firmly, even if he used all his strength.

"Don't get excited, don't get excited." The two people, who were different from yesterday, sat calmly in front of prisoner No. 982, just a table away.

"It's that everyone forgets things, we just want to help you remember the past." Under the frighteningly bright light, No. 982 saw the other party bend the fingers of his hands in an arch and put them under his nostrils to cover his mouth.

This guy is 100% smiling! However, No. 982 didn't dare to attack again at all - he was lucky that he hadn't been electrocuted just now, or his pupils had been checked by a strong flashlight, or he had been cleaned up by the capable thugs outside the door.

"We still have some questions about Eufael Mondridge that need to be reconciled, and we ask you to cooperate and go to the prisoner of war camp to get the information we want. After that, depending on the degree of cooperation, we may send you on the fleeing ship~" The young man with his hands arched was not polite, and he went straight to the point.

"You talk counts?"

The young man took his hand away, showed a smiling face, and pressed the button.

"You have ten seconds to say to cooperate or not to cooperate. Ten. ”

Are there any other options available? The button means that within ten seconds of two doors, the soldier acting as a prison guard will come directly with a rifle butt and a baton. No. 982's cold sweat flowed down his eyes and face in an instant.

"I cooperate, I cooperate!" Before the nine was shouted, prisoner 982 reacted quickly. "No matter what the conditions, I will agree! I'll do it all! ”

"Oh~ I know a lot about current affairs."

Immediately afterward, two capable soldiers pushed open the door of the interrogation room with nervous expressions, but there was no panic inside.

"Zemchiler, I'll take care of the Authority later, give this guy an extra day's meal today, and have meat, this is my business card, he knows the rules."