Food Stall: Customers Chase Me across the Country-Chapter 416 - 415: World Guobaorou Championship (Part 1)
"Wow!"
On the morning of the second day, when Wang Fan, Zhuo Qianqian, and Ershu arrived at the competition venue, Zhuo Qianqian couldn’t help but exclaim as she looked at the vast space in front of her, "Isn’t this just too big?"
The venue was indeed very large, with rows of low red walls dividing it into many stoves, each about two meters apart. Some chefs who had arrived early were already getting acclimated next to their stoves.
An aisle about a meter wide ran between two rows of stoves, with a volunteer stationed beside each one to supervise whether the chefs completed each step themselves. Points would also be deducted if the cookware wasn’t cleaned properly.
The judges were composed of two groups: one included renowned chefs both domestic and international, as well as heads of well-known restaurants in the Northeast; these were the professional judges. The other group was a selection of diners from society. Once the dishes were ready, volunteers would bring them to the tasting area for the societal judges to vote on. The top 100 would then remake their dishes for the professional judges to score and critique.
The first-place prize included a solid gold medal, one Zhongliang Jiajia Kang Flaxseed Pig, a Harbin City travel package, and a World Guobaorou Cooking Master Trophy. All participants also received a World Guobaorou Competition commemorative medal.
This competition wasn’t just a one-time event; it would be held annually around this time. This time it was in Harbin, next time in Shenyang, and then in Jilin, alternating locations.
"Heavy oil, heavy sugar, heavy vinegar, and heavy starch are the secret weapons of Guobaorou to attack the taste buds. I wonder how those judges tolerate sugar and oil..."
There were at least 200 stoves in the venue. Wang Fan really doubted if anyone could eat over 200 servings of Guobaorou. Even if they only took one bite from each plate, that’s still over 200 pieces. He wondered if those judges could handle it.
"The emphasis is on participation in this competition, it doesn’t matter whether you win a prize, just perform steadily."
Ershu patted Wang Fan on the shoulder and said, "Don’t be stressed."
Wang Fan smiled slightly, "If I wasn’t going to participate, I wouldn’t have entered. Since I’m here, I’m aiming for first place."
Ershu excitedly patted him on the back and said, "Good kid, you really do have the spirit of the Wang family!"
By 10 o’clock, the chefs had all entered. On either side of Wang Fan were two chefs in their forties, both rolling up their sleeves and ready to give it their all. They couldn’t help but glance more at Wang Fan’s young face, as in a sea of chefs in their thirties and forties, someone in their twenties was quite rare.
Although Wang Fan joined the competition at the last minute, it was an event that had been in preparation for a long time across the three provinces. The canopy outside the venue was already packed with tourists from all over, eager to see the excitement. They could enjoy some discounts at scenic areas by presenting their plane or train tickets or purchase records.
There was no unnecessary talk in the competition, just a few minutes of speech, and then it officially began.
Wang Fan didn’t rush; instead, he curiously looked around.
He did this because his nose told him that today’s Guobaorou competition was no simple affair.
What he learned was the traditional Guobaorou, using a sweet and sour mix for the glaze, but his nose detected hints of ketchup, houttuynia cordata, curry, spicy sauce, pickled bamboo shoots, lemon, orange, durian, and more...
"Incredible..."
Wang Fan had to marvel at the imagination of these chefs, and he finally understood why, even though most of the participants were local chefs from the Northeast, it was labeled as a world competition.
The ingredients were truly inventive!
He hadn’t even started yet, but the two beside him were already busy at work.
Mixing the batter, cutting the meat slices, coating them, frying them—the actions were essentially the same.
But after frying, the methods took on an eerie tone.
Wang Fan looked at the name tag of the master chef on his left, named Chen Mo from Shenyang. In his pot, he had already added ketchup, clearly making him a contestant who used ketchup for seasoning.
The one on the right was named Li Dong, from Jilin. In his pot, aside from the sweet and sour sauce, he had creatively added walnuts, almonds, peanuts, sunflower seeds, sesame seeds...
Wang Fan wasn’t opposed to innovation and was quite interested in studying the methods of the two, mentally simulating the differences in taste after making them this way.
While he wasn’t in a hurry, the volunteer responsible for him was. As others were about to finish cooking, Boss Wang hadn’t even started yet, so how could she not be anxious?
Wang Ting, a 20-year-old student from Harbin Institute of Technology, had nothing to do over the summer break, so she volunteered. Being assigned to Wang Fan’s group made her very excited because he was her idol, after all.
"Boss Wang, hurry up!"
Wang Ting couldn’t help but quietly remind Wang Fan, afraid that time might run out.
Wang Fan snapped back to reality, nodded, thanked her for her kindness, and finally got moving.
Seeing Wang Fan start, Wang Ting finally breathed a sigh of relief, and then watched Wang Fan’s operation with curiosity once more.
As a native of Harbin, she’s been eating Guobaorou since she was young. To her, the dishes made by the two chefs on either side were eccentric, and she hoped that her idol wouldn’t make something unusual too.
At the same time, she hoped her idol would shine and ideally win first place, but with many master chefs having cooked this dish for decades, it would be difficult without some innovation...
She hoped her idol would win, but didn’t want him to use unorthodox methods, which was quite a dilemma!
Wang Fan didn’t think much about it; cooking was always an enjoyable process for him.
Once he started, his whole mind was immersed in the creation of food, and everything else around him ceased to matter.
He crafted a silky batter, cut the tenderloin slices to nearly uniform thickness, prepared the sweet and sour sauce, and sliced the fine garnish.
The meat slices were coated in batter and dropped into the hot oil. Under high temperature, the batter on the meat quickly expanded, enveloping the slices and soon floating them from the bottom, leaving a layer lightly bobbing on the oil’s surface.
With precision and speed, long chopsticks deftly picked out the perfectly shaped meat slices.
The batter Wang Fan applied was relatively thick, resulting in Guobaorou that was a bit heftier, each piece looking plump and full of substance.
A second lower-temperature frying shrank the meat, and a third frying gave it a crispy texture with a perfect golden-yellow, mixed with the umber of the Maillard reaction.
Slices of garlic and ginger went into the pan, releasing their fragrance before the sweet and sour sauce was poured in, and Wang Fan’s iron spatula began to stir swiftly in the pot.
The sweet and sour sauce quickly began to bubble, and the pre-cut carrot shreds, green onion shreds, and cilantro stems that he had placed over the fried Guobaorou were dumped into the pot all at once.
Wang Ting attentively watched Wang Fan’s technique, feeling both relieved and slightly concerned. Relieved because Wang Fan employed a traditional method, concerned because it might be hard to achieve a high ranking.
After all, the dish merely seemed a bit thicker, without anything particularly dazzling at first glance.
