Reborn in Japan as a Chef God-Chapter 1062 - 1061: Finishing Move Takes Form (Part 2)

Chapter 1062: Chapter 1061: Finishing Move Takes Form (Part 2)

Sizzle!

Sizzle!

Sizzle!

This is the sound of flames.

Of course, only Xia Yu could hear such a tangible movement of fire at the scene.

His handling of the ’meat slices’ was classic; he found a grill and a net, then used chopsticks to place slices of pork, interspersed with fat and lean, onto the grill net for roasting!

That’s right, it’s this ’grill’ cooking technique!

"Ah, grilled meat?"

Shanben Xiaoshu was stunned.

Is there ramen paired with grilled meat? No way, how can grilled meat be a side dish for ramen, put into the soup, paired with noodles? Wouldn’t that be strange when sipping and chewing in the mouth?

What kind of ramen is this, hey, Fukuoka Ramen?

Sapporo Ramen?

Or Kitsukado Ramen?

Shanben Xiaoshu racked his brains but couldn’t find a style that uses ’grilled meat’ with ramen.

"This is definitely not char siu!"

He said confidently.

Japanese char siu is made by ’frying’, ’boiling’, and ’stewing’, but never ’grilling’!

Moreover, if it’s grilled meat, the moisture evaporates severely, becoming dry and tough. When paired with very chewy ramen, wouldn’t that further burden the mouth?

Eating "comfortably" is also an extremely important texture!

An operation that people cannot understand.

Shanben Xiaoshu gave it such an evaluation in his mind; he wasn’t reckless and rambling.

Instead, Old Monk Yizhen reacted differently from Shanben and Aoki, his eyes lit up, "What a concise manipulation of flames!"

He had attended Xia Yu’s public lecture called "Primitive Flame".

If, in the lecture, this young lecturer’s theory had an air of mystery that left people puzzled, now, at this moment, Old Monk Yizhen immediately understood the technique of the ’grilled meat’.

It seemed to point directly to the origin.

"Huh!"

Master Yizhen’s expression gradually grew serious.

The most superficial layer of ’Wabi-Sabi’ points to the essence of simplicity, stripping away the unnecessary exterior, doesn’t it?

Now, Xia Yu’s Bursting Flame gives the old monk a feeling similar to this.

It is refined.

Omitting any mysticisms, simply displaying the "origin" for them to see.

It is plain.

No need for casting materials like "Morse Oil," just ordinary fruit charcoal in the small grill. Yet the flames are manipulated by an invisible hand, making a "sizzling" sound. How do you describe it, perhaps like holding a flame-thrower, pressing the ignition button, and the blue high-temperature flames target the meat slices on the grill net, forming a beam, and impacting!

Simple, direct, brutal.

Yet it contains the legend of heat, imparting a sense of sanctity.

"Seeing a mountain is a mountain."

"Seeing water is water."

Everything returns to the starting point.

Starting over?

Not at all.

The old monk Yizhen’s eyes revealed an inexplicable astonishment, "The beginning is also the end!"

"He walked around and came back!"

"The road is traversed!"

Ah.

At this moment, Shanben Xiaoshu couldn’t help but speak out, "It’s burned!"

The heat was "excessive," and the evenly sliced pieces of meat on the grill had semi-burnt surfaces.

A trace of black appeared.

Even the old monk was suddenly startled, "How can it be!"

Aoki Motota kept muttering, "I don’t understand!"

A master who has traversed the path of "heat" to its fullest, how could he let his pure white canvas be tainted by a speck of ink! It’s not scientific! Impossible!

"Want to try?"

Xia Yu looked up at Shanben Xiaoshu, gestured at the half-burnt grilled pork with his chopsticks, placed it on a small dish, and handed it over.

Shanben held the plate, while Aoki Motota and Master Yizhen quickly gathered around.

Upon close inspection, the more they looked, the more it left everyone puzzled.

It was indeed scorched; the originally tender outer layer of the meat turned into a partially burned shell, and without a doubt, a bite into it would surely make a sizzling noise.

The nose caught, and the mouth and taste buds tasted a bitter flavor first and foremost.

Eating charred, bitter trash, worse than ’dark cuisine’, even Shanben Xiaoshu’s tongue, tempered by his own dark culinary bombardments and trials, oddly couldn’t withstand it; his whole face puckered tightly.

"Wow!"

"So bitter!"

He spat out.

"Why is it so bitter?"

Indeed.

Why?

Monk Yizhen furrowed his brows deeply, his gaze sweeping over the remaining slices of meat on the grill, their surface charred black, but the interior surely remained tender.

But why did the bitterness pierce his heart?

The old monk felt that things were not simple.

Then Xia Yu continued to prepare the ramen according to the "recipe" in his mind.

The chashu, or roasted meat, the most time-consuming and labor-intensive side dish, was ready. Of the commonly used toppings for Japanese ramen, such as "soft-boiled eggs," "young bamboo shoots," "chopped scallions," "seaweed," "red ginger," and so on, Xia Yu only took "young bamboo shoots" and "soft-boiled eggs."

Then, he cooked a couple of seasonal vegetables and placed them in the ramen bowls.

An hour later, the broth boiled from chicken bones and chicken feet was ready, its color a clear and cool yellow, poured into large white ceramic ramen bowls.

Thus, the green seasonal vegetables stood out in the bowls, dominated by the orange-yellow tones of the broth, young bamboo shoots, soft-boiled eggs, and chashu.

"It’s done—"

Xia Yu took off his apron and set out two trays, each holding two bowls of noodles.

The group moved from the kitchen to the mountain dining hall.

By this time, the sky had already darkened, and it was past the temple’s fixed dinner time, so the dining hall was dark. Aoki Motota went in first to turn on the lights, while Xia Yu and Shanben each carried a tray, sitting on the tatami mats that the young monks had cleaned.

There were a total of four bowls of noodles.

Xia Yu didn’t eat, letting the three take their portions, and he carried the remaining bowl with its tray to the "forbidden zone" table.

"Place the chopsticks."

The old monk said.

Xia Yu complied, neatly placing a pair of chopsticks on the bowl.

As for Shanben Xiaoshu, he sat down with a thud, unable to contain himself any longer, and stared at the bowl of noodles with an uncontrollable exclamation, "It’s indescribable!"

The ramen was covered under the "roasted meat," "young bamboo shoots," "soft-boiled eggs," and a few seasonal vegetables.

The entire bowl was filled with the clear yellow broth, seemingly transparent at the bottom yet exhibiting a distinct sense of complexity.

A gentle warmth wafted over.

Shanben Xiaoshu took a gentle breath, feeling an indescribable comfort in his chest, as if standing atop a mountain peak, his vision had never been so broad, the distant mountains had never crouched so low before him.

Eh, where’s the bitterness of the "roasted meat"?

He sniffed hard.

Shanben started with the chopsticks, picking up a slice of meat. This meat was quite unsightly, half charred black, but after soaking in the broth, there was an indescribable change. It was not just the smell disappearing.

He took a bite.

"Crunch!"

The charred shell made a very distinct cracking sound.

So the bitterness was still there.

The taste that flooded his mouth made Shanben, almost instinctively, wrinkle his entire face.

As the black shell shattered completely in his mouth, the young man with a pouf of hair sitting on the tatami mat suddenly tensed his legs, his toes even cramped.

Crisp!

Bitter!

However, the tender meat inside, when chewed to pieces, mixing with the broth in the mouth, surprisingly created a sublime sweet taste.

"Is this sweetness after bitterness?"

"Did he deliberately char the shell to create the ’charred flavor’?"

"What’s the intention behind this?"

Shanben Xiaoshu scratched his ears and chewed non-stop, feeling something was missing. Suddenly, as the food scraps in his mouth felt dry, a light bulb went on in his head, "Is it the lack of moisture?"

He picked up the bowl of noodles and took a big gulp of the broth.

Slurp!

Instantly, his palate experienced a completely different taste.

On the mountain peak, Shanben Xiaoshu saw a tree that had died from a lightning strike. Yet, this very tree, struck by lightning and tempered in flames, in his gaze, sprouted new buds.

The mountain peak was barren, the blackened wood, new buds, nothing more.

Without knowing why, Shanben felt that this scene was full of Zen, and compared to the comfort felt from smelling the broth earlier, at this moment, his heart was as tranquil as water.

"Nothing truly dies, it’s just new birth."

"Out of decay, new life blooms..."

Sitting in meditation under the blackened wood, beside the green buds, Shanben Xiaoshu resembled a high monk enlightened in Zen, his expression as calm as an ancient well.

"Wabi-Sabi!"

A pair of chopsticks clattered to the ground.

In the night-ridden mountain dining hall, a fifth person’s faint breathing was quietly added.