At the instigation of the big guy, Mr. Bittermelon Luden also stood up, cleared his throat, and told the story of his adventures when he was young and left town to follow the bounty hunters—no one could guess what else the middle-aged man with his wig and beer belly would have had, so the big guy immediately fell silent, looking at him with curiosity in his eyes.

Mr. Bitter Melon Luden does have the potential to be a writer, and the twists and turns and arduous adventures come from his mouth, and he describes them in great detail and realistically, making people have an immersive sense of fantasy - as if everyone has really incarnated the childish boy who left home angrily because of Mr. Bitter Gourd's mouth, following the bounty hunters passing through here to race the bikers in the sandstorm-ravaged desert, and the mirelurk crab queen who is the first on the bounty list in the gluttonous swamp to fight to the death. Fight with the mad wolves in the endless Mota Wasteland......

When Mr. Bittermelon talked about how he was seriously injured and dying when he was young and alone in a starry night to duel with a wolf who came to take revenge, everyone unconsciously held their breath, expecting Mr. Bittermelon to continue to tell his touching and wonderful story,—— but Ludon only smiled meaningfully, and his face turned red with excitement, forgetting that there was also the lady Little Red Riding Hood at the scene, and rudely lifted his clothes, revealing his round belly.

Wow –

Everyone couldn't help but let out an exclamation, because in the gentle light, everyone could clearly see a huge scar on Mr. Bittermelon's fat belly that stretched across the entire abdomen.

Mr. Ludon was pleased with the reaction, and he gestured with his chubby fingers to the twisted scar: "Before I strangled it with my strong arms, this abominable beast slashed at my tough, beautiful abs, but I was not succumbed to its fangs and claws, and I withstood the test, strangled it in my arms with a weak body in a great pain enough to make ordinary people faint - I won the battle between man and beast!" ”

The crowd erupted in a long burst of applause and cheers, and everyone was fascinated by the fact that they admired the brave, strong adventurer from the bottom of their hearts—and Mr. Ludon walked around the table with his belly on his head so that the big earthworm-like scar could be seen by the big earthworm—and with Mr. Luden's permission, Little Red Riding Hood even flattered himself to touch the adult's belly and the twisted scar on it.

As Mr. Ludon pesters him to tell more interesting and elaborate adventures, Chef Mosilele and her assistant Winnie finally enter the crowded restaurant with tonight's feast!

What is particularly striking is the large cauldron full of hot and churning aroma filled with food held by several big men!

This pot is the largest Mosilaire can find inside the base - it's really big, big enough for Winnie to curl up in it - and it would be a great hideout if Winnie and Mosilare played hide and seek together.

Chef Mosilaire generally guesses that this pot should have been used by the colonists who lived here to make cauldron dishes.

After a simple wash, Mosilair brought back to work the pot that had been dormant in the corner of the kitchen for decades.

She poured a large amount of fat into the pan, then cut the dozen or so red sausages that Winnie had removed from the packaged survival food into neat pieces, and then poured them into the duck fat, which had already begun to boil and splash, and fried them until the surface was golden brown and crispy.

Tell Winnie to scoop them out of the pot while she pours out the excess grease and collects it for later use—Mosilaire doesn't have the luxury of discarding the grease that has only been fried once.

Then she asked Winnie, who was becoming more and more cooperative, to hand her the dozen or so portions of mashed potatoes that she had collected and packed in a small pot for survival food,—— but Mosilaire quickly patted her head and winked apologetically at a distressed Winnie - she had forgotten that the pot weighed about ten pounds.

So she laboriously lifted the small pot herself and flipped it over so that the mashed potatoes could be transferred to the large pot.

The swaying Mosilaire didn't fall, and finally slapped the thick salt-and-pepper mashed potatoes into the cauldron.

Mosilaire wiped the sweat from her forehead and added four spoonfuls of fine salt, some sugar, a little spice, and a small half bowl of sautéed minced wild garlic to the large pile of mashed potatoes, and when she stirred the mashed potatoes and spices and heated them slightly until the fragrance overflowed, Mosilaire tossed all the fried red sausages into it and began to stir them with great difficulty.

Crispy red sausages and soft yellow pepper and salt and pepper mashed potatoes mixed with spices are constantly touching and mixing, and a mouth-watering, appetizing flavor soon bursts out of the beautiful fried sausage mashed potatoes that are getting hotter and hotter.

Since the ingredients themselves were cooked, Mosilaire quickly turned off the heat and asked the old knife and a few self-serving men outside the door to serve the cauldron stuffed with delicious food, while himself and Winnie placed a few plates of lighter food around the main course.

Despite the limited ingredients, Mosilere managed to make three plates of hot and sour shredded potatoes, two plates of thickly stacked greens, and a fresh cabbage soup in a large soup pot.

Ceramic plates and spoons, which were white and clean enough to be used as mirrors, were taken out by Chef Mosilele and her assistant, Lady Winnie, and placed neatly in front of everyone.

With expectant eyes in them, they began to separate the fragrant mashed potatoes in the cauldron, garnished with fried red sausages.

Every gentleman or lady at the dinner party gets their share of the wonderful sausage and braised mashed potatoes that have been scooped up with a spoon on the "mountain of dream mashed potatoes" and are large enough to fill the belly of any pot-bellied man.

In addition to the delicious, spherical mashed potatoes that occupy the center of the plate and look like a ball of ice cream, everyone was also given a small bowl or cup of light, mildly aromatic cabbage soup - because there were few clean, well-preserved bone china bowls in the base, some people had to choose to use their own kettles or lunch boxes to hold the vegetable soup that they hadn't drunk in a long time.

Mosilaire then offered knives and forks for them to eat hot and sour shredded potatoes and stir-fried greens—and at last the de facto hostess of the fringe colony, the lovely lady of the gathering place, who was gentle and kind in the eyes of the guests of the gathering place, but full of mystery as a mist, proclaimed aloud to the eager gaze of all: "If no one wants to pray before dinner, then—supper begins!" ”

Sitting on the bench, Bender stared at the delicate food in front of him—when was the last time he had eaten such food?

He couldn't remember it anymore, and many of the people here couldn't remember it, in fact, except for Mr. Luden, the leader of the gathering place, all the rest of the guests who had to get used to sleeping in the open and traveling in order to survive in this last day - they were only the lowest pariahs in the No. 3 gathering place, and they were just the smallest and most inconspicuous brick on the throne of power for the rich - no one with power would care about the life or death of a brick, and naturally they would not care about their joys, sorrows, and sorrows. Rustic emotions or a heart that is as strong as gold under the torture of zombies and suffering.

No one really paid attention to them – to this day.

Bender wondered if the young lady had noticed the beauty that lurked beneath her lovely exterior—the kindness and gentleness that Mosilaire had inadvertently revealed from under that fiery heart when she was with others—a noble quality that neither the Gathering House nor the upper class had ever seen.

Bender wiped his hands on his clothes, and carefully scooped some soft, steamy, and fragrant mashed potatoes with a cold porcelain spoon, and gently put them into his mouth.

He hadn't started chewing yet, just a little bit with his tongue, and he could immediately feel a strong taste expand in his mouth, and the heat from the tip of his tongue rushed to his head - with the wave of aroma rushed together with the mixed together, rich salt and pepper flavor and various spices arranged and combined into a layered, unique complex taste, when your taste buds are activated under the stimulation of strong spices, and then chew and taste, which is hidden in the dense, The sweetness of the soft mashed potatoes seeped through – a light and calm flavor that was incomparable to the hot, intense spices.

Even so, these mild sweetnesses are necessary – just like the green tea that comes out of the hot pot after eating, although the dull taste can't compare to the hot hot pot, it has a unique and reassuring magic that will quietly take away the excess taste in your mouth for you, and rejuvenate your slightly numb taste buds for the second round of delicious food that follows.

The casing was fried until it was crispy, meaty, plump red sausage; the crispy and raw freshly fried tender green vegetables; The sour and spicy shredded potatoes that have a heavy taste that make people feel like they can't stop eating it as soon as they eat it...... Even if it seems to be the simplest boiled cabbage in clear water, Bender can taste the noisy cicadas of the sultry summer and the cool breeze that can only be enjoyed by leaning on the old bamboo chair at night in this seemingly ordinary soup.

Bender almost cried when he ate - oh, that's an exaggeration, of course.

But he did feel that his soul had been sublimated and purified in some kind of intense sublimation and purification in the delicate delicacies that the master had crafted.

As for the cockroach cakes and mud lumps that you carry with you to feed your hunger? Let them eat!