"Well... okay then," Qiao Xiong hesitated for a moment before agreeing, leading her into the kitchen. Qiao Laoye and Old Zhao exchanged glances and quickly followed. Meng Yuhuai seemed to consider something on the spot, walked last, and didn't enter. Instead, he leaned against the door frame, arms folded, gazing indifferently inside.
When she had entered, Hua Xiaomai had briefly surveyed the layout of this paper shop, which was about a hundred square meters. They employed three or five workers, in addition to two masters specifically in charge of paper crafting. There weren't many people, but the kitchen was indeed not small, filled with all kinds of utensils and crockery. Vegetables of various colors piled up at the base of the walls; strings stretched across the room, hanging various cured meats and sausages. Clearly, Qiao Xiong took the food for his staff very seriously and was not stingy about it.
Hua Xiaomai roamed around the kitchen, took down some knives to look at them, caressed the blades with her fingers, then picked up a rag and chopping board to smell them, and finally took a mortar from the stove, dipped her pinky in some remaining powder inside, and tasted it, causing her brows to furrow.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" Old Zhao, disturbed by her actions, broke his silence, which had been maintained since he entered, and asked anxiously.
"Hua Family's sister, are you planning to cook a dish for my father to taste?" Qiao Xiong also spoke hesitantly, "That would be wonderful! After tasting your cooking, he will surely praise it endlessly!"
"I won't do it," Hua Xiaomai turned around, her expression serious as she shook her head.
"Then you..." Qiao Xiong grew more puzzled about what she was really aiming at, and fearing his father's temper, began to scratch his head in desperation.
"For me, cooking is a very serious matter, not a monkey show. I cannot perform on a whim because someone wants to taste something new or mistrusts me." Hua Xiaomai spoke faintly, "Moreover, many details in this kitchen deviate greatly from my standards."
"You talk big! Now tell us, what about here doesn't meet your high standards?!" Old Zhao, completely infuriated, clenched his fists so tightly they creaked.
Hua Xiaomai gave a slight smile, took another look at the knives, and facing everyone calmly declared, "For a cook, cleanliness in the kitchen is especially crucial. If the tools or ingredients are unclean, it could not only cause stomach troubles but also greatly impact the flavor of the dish. You should not use a knife for cutting onions to cut bamboo shoots, and a mortar used for crushing peppers should not be used for powder. If one smells a rag in the dish, it indicates the rag is not clean. And if there is a smell of chopping board, obviously that board hasn't been washed for a long time. I suppose recently, no matter what dish comes out of this paper shop's kitchen, it all has a staleness of onions and garlic, doesn't it?"
Just then a worker came in to fetch water for tea, overheard Hua Xiaomai's remarks, and couldn't help but interject, "Exactly! We've raised this issue with Master Zhao several times, but he wasn't happy to hear it, we..."
Before he could finish, Qiao Laoye glared at him. He shrank his neck and quickly exited.
Hua Xiaomai gazed directly at Old Zhao: "Chef Zhao, as chefs, we all know the saying, 'A good cook should frequently sharpen knives, change rags, scrape boards, and wash hands before preparing dishes.' Sweat on the forehead, bugs near the stove, ash on the pot—if any of these get into the food, even the most delicious dish becomes utterly unappetizing, doesn't it?"
Old Zhao stuttered, unable to reply, and looked down at his hands. Qiao Xiong's face showed delight, Meng Yuhuai remained expressionless as usual, but Qiao Laoye still appeared dismissive.
"What do you know! That doesn't prove you can cook well!"
Hua Xiaomai didn't respond verbally, but glanced around and seeing the basin with two fish, she walked over to look, then turned to Old Zhao with a smile: "Chef Zhao, what plans do you have for these two fishes?"
Old Zhao, who had just been candidly but forcefully lectured by her, was somewhat rattled and blurted out, "The Guilin fish is for frying slices tonight, and the carp is intended for making fish floss tomorrow morning, to accompany the old man's porridge." Thinking further, he added, "The old man's favorite is the fish floss I make!"
"Chef Zhao truly is a great cook. These two fish have different textures and flavors, and your plans for them couldn't be more appropriate!" Hua Xiaomai looked at him genuinely, glancing meaningfully at Qiao Laoye, "Pork for stir-fry uses hindquarters, meatballs use the front part, Indian lettuce uses the head, and celery and leeks use the roots. Hens are used for tender chicken, and drakes for fattier meat... Ingredients vary, only the right cooking method can bring out the best results."
Fortunately, due to her intense interest in cooking, she had always pestered the teachers with questions during her Chef School classes, and had read a lot of books on her own. Otherwise, she would really have nothing to offer now!
Her critique followed by praise, though Old Zhao was still uneasy, his annoyance had largely subsided, and he just grunted quietly, saying nothing.
It was Qiao Laoye who, showing impatience, tapped his cane on the ground: "What's the point of all this babbling? I'm a layman and don't understand these professional terms!"
"If old sir admits I'm a professional, then this makes things easier!" Hua Xiaomai narrowed her eyes with a smile, "Since I know what to pay attention to as a chef and how to cook each ingredient properly, and Uncle Qiao has even tasted my dishes himself, that should be enough proof that I'm not just a clueless girl causing trouble, right?"
She paused, then continued with a chuckle, "Qiao old sir, I know you probably didn't understand most of what I said today, and that's fine. You just need to know that I am very capable, and that's enough."