"I’m right here, stop shouting. You’re going to burst my eardrums."
"You’re just in ti. Quick, send a few people to catch so Red Salmon. We’re going to try and replicate what this contestant made."
"But we don’t have any apples..."
"Use apple cider vinegar! He said that stuff was sour. It’s all the sa, good enough!"
Daniel forced himself to look away from the tempting fish soup on the screen, pulled a walkie-talkie from his waist, and walked aside, muttering into it.
After surviving in the wild for forty years, he’d never seen anyone eat this well.
’If a chef could live this comfortably in a survival situation, then what was all the suffering I’d endured before even for?’
Seeing that Lin Chen had finished slicing the fish and wasn’t doing much else, the staff, as usual, reallocated screen ti to the other contestants’ live feeds.
The contrast was imdiately striking.
"Contestants One, Four, Six, Seven, and Eight are currently trekking through the forest. They look exhausted. Did they get any food yesterday?"
A staff mber buried in their notes nearby flipped through a few pages and shook their head. "Basically none. A few of them managed to pick a small amount of blueberries."
"Contestants Two and Three are building shelters; it looks like they’re preparing for a long-term stay. Let’s see what Contestant Nine, who hunted a squirrel yesterday, is doing now."
"Oh? Interesting. Contestant Nine actually found the carpenter. According to the rules, they can only cooperate with the sa ’professional’ once a week. It seems he wants to get sothing from the carpenter. Not a bad strategy."
The screen continued to switch. The remaining five contestants weren’t doing anything special, either. Out of four other contestants who were closest to the Yukon River, only two had made it to the riverbank and were also building shelters.
Including these two, only four people had eaten a proper al in two days.
"We specifically chose the Yukon River Shore for this shoot. Logically, there should be plenty of ga. Why haven’t the contestants caught anything? What’s going on?"
"No idea."
The rest of the staff shook their heads, completely baffled.
Before the official recording began, the production team had specifically scouted this area. A situation like this shouldn’t be happening.
"It’s possible the bears have started moving," Daniel said, offering his assessnt as he walked in from outside. "Winter is approaching, and it’s also the Red Salmon migration season. The nearby Black Bears, brown bears, and grizzly bears won’t be just wandering around anymore. They’ll all converge on the Yukon River Shore to store up enough fat for the winter."
"But Wolf Mountain is nearby, and that’s wolf pack territory. An invasion by bears is bound to start a war. The more timid animals naturally won’t be strolling around brazenly at a ti like this."
"This early? Wasn’t the estimate for November?"
"Besides this, I can’t think of any other reasonable explanation."
While the production staff grew increasingly nervous, the fish soup next to Lin Chen had already evaporated by thirty percent.
The fish head and bones had long been boiled to pieces, releasing all their collagen into the broth, which now looked as rich as a stock. A thin layer of yellow fish oil floated on the surface.
After simply picking out so of the larger spines and bones, Lin Chen grabbed a handful of lichen and sprinkled it in. He then subrged the fish intestines, stomach, swim bladder, and liver into the soup as well.
He let it simr for another seven or eight minutes, added a pinch of salt and stirred it evenly, then slid in the sliced fish to blanch for ten seconds before removing the pot from the fire.
The addition of the lichen turned the yellow fish oil a yellowish-green. A gentle stir would reveal the creamy white, thick soup hidden underneath.
"Friends, the Alaska wilderness-style Red Salmon and mushroom chowder is ready! Anyone want a taste?"
Catalyzed by the high heat, the gelatin in the lichen was completely released, further thickening the already rich fish soup, giving it the appearance of a thick pork trotter stew.
You can’t be impatient with a soup this thick. Its actual temperature could even exceed a hundred degrees Celsius, so you have to let it sit for a while before taking a sip.
Lin Chen speared a few thick slices of porcini mushroom with his knife, blew on them, and even touched them lightly with his lips to make sure they weren’t too hot before popping them into his mouth.
At first taste, it didn’t seem like anything special—just the faint aroma of fish and the unique fragrance of the mushrooms.
But when his teeth broke through the plump mushroom flesh, a burst of scalding juice shot out, making him instinctively lean forward.
The rich aroma of fish mingled with the subtle scent of the porcini. Every chew was like eating a piece of fish-flavored abalone.
A light, savory flavor was interspersed with an extrely faint fruity acidity, perfectly neutralizing the richness of the fish oil.
"Phew~"
After a few slices of porcini went down, Lin Chen felt waves of warmth spreading through his body. His exhausted fra was revitalized with new energy.
"It’d be nice to have a spoon. Otherwise, every ti I make soup, I have to wait for it to cool down. Being able to see it but not eat it is just too agonizing."
His gaze swept back and forth across the thick trees nearby as he began to consider the possibility of carving a wooden spoon.
’On top of that, I should probably prepare a few pairs of chopsticks too. Stirring the pot directly with my knife could easily scratch the inside.’
’Even though it’s just a stainless steel pot with no non-stick coating, it will still stick easily once it gets scratched.’
"Besides a spoon and chopsticks, I also need to prepare so branches as skewers for grilling at, and I should get a smoking rack ready in advance. I also need to figure out a way to make a device to collect distilled water."
"Oh, right, the shelter needs to be expanded. It would be best to build the stove inside. That way, it’ll provide warmth at night and be relatively safer, but I’ll need to set up a flue for the smoke."
’Co to think of it, there’s quite a lot to do these next few days. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about food, or it would be even more troubleso.’
While waiting for the fish soup to cool, he first finished off the porcini mushrooms floating on the surface. He stirred and blew on the soup continuously to speed up the cooling process.
With every stir, the fragrant aroma of fish soup assailed his nostrils. His stomach, which had just had its appetite whetted, rumbled in protest at the delay.
"Should be about right. I can’t wait any longer!"
He leaned in and carefully took a slurp. The soup, still a little scalding, flowed down his throat and into his stomach, so wonderfully warm it made him groan in pleasure.
After a few more mouthfuls, the completely dissolved lichen slid into his mouth along with the soup. Besides a smooth texture, it didn’t have much of a distinct taste, having been thoroughly assimilated by the broth.
The fresh fish was sliced extrely thin. It was already half-cooked from the blanching, and now, steeping in the residual heat of the soup, it had reached a perfect dium-well, retaining much of its internal moisture.
The pink fish at floating in the creamy white soup looked exceptionally tempting. The only regret was the lack of so green scallions for garnish.
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