The flat, oval dough discs puffed up right before their eyes, swelling like balloons.
Lin Chen moved the pan off the fire and lifted the lid. Billows of steam rose up, carrying an ever-richer aroma of wheat.
The mont the lid was off, the puffed-up dough quickly deflated, becoming even more wrinkled and crumpled than before.
Andre stared at the four lumps of ’bread,’ frowning in thought for a mont before sothing suddenly clicked.
"Pita bread?"
"Bingo!"
Lin Chen snapped his fingers and grinned. "You finally got one right. When you don’t have any yeast but want to make sothing with a texture like a hamburger bun, pita bread is definitely the best option."
He grabbed a piece of pita, poked the tip of his knife in sideways, and made a gentle slice. He didn’t need to cut it all the way through. As soon as he opened a slit on the edge, the whole thing naturally separated into two halves.
While it was hot, he stuffed it with the stir-fried lamb with cumin and green peppers and handed it to Andre.
The steaming ’pita burger’ looked incredibly appetizing. Compared to a traditional soft hamburger bun, pita bread has a much chewier texture. You can find it at so restaurants and sandwich shops.
Although he called it a burger, it was really more like a sandwich.
For North Aricans, the difference between the two is obvious, but tourists often have a hard ti telling them apart.
It’s actually quite simple. Hamburgers were first popularized in Germany and the United States, whereas sandwiches originated in Britain.
Originally, sandwiches were only served cold, using bread like toast or baguettes, filled with vegetables, sauces, and sliced at.
Burgers, however, use a round brioche bun—the most common type—and are filled with a hot at patty and vegetables.
As cultures rged over ti, the hamburger ca to be classified as a type of sandwich. No matter the specific filling, the bun is still round, and it’s still filled with hot at.
Everything else gets classified as a sandwich—whether it’s made with a croissant, sliced bread, a baguette, panini, or sothing else, and whether it’s served hot or cold, it’s all called a sandwich.
Andre licked his dry lips, flexed his jaw, opened his mouth wide, and bit off half of it in one go.
"?!"
The mont he took a bite, he could tell this was completely different from any pita sandwich he’d ever had.
The bread, pan-fried until the surface was slightly crisp, was filled with a rich, wheaty aroma. It was soft yet tough, with a satisfyingly distinct chew.
A faint, oily aroma mingled with a peculiar scent—the unique sll of bear fat. For soone like him, who had eaten bear at many tis, it was surprisingly familiar.
The lamb, which had been boiled before being stir-fried, looked much tougher than the sliced at in a typical sandwich. In reality, it was incredibly tender, almost rivaling pulled pork.
It hardly required any chewing. A gentle press of his tongue was enough to shred the fibers of the at, which then lted together with the seasonings.
The cumin was a perfect match for the lamb, and the just-right amount of spice made Andre’s pores open up almost instantly. He exhaled a visible puff of breath into the cold air.
Lamb stir-fried in its own fat, served in a pita cooked with bear fat. It didn’t seem like much oil was used, but every bite filled his mouth with a rich, savory fattiness.
An occasional bite of diced green pepper provided a fresh fragrance, its subtle sweetness cutting through the richness perfectly.
The complex layers of flavor and texture mingled in his mouth, and a blissful, heartfelt smile spread across Andre’s face.
Lin Chen hadn’t seen him smile like that even at lunch, when they were having the lamb soup.
’Looks like this guy is a real burger fan.’
He heated up so more lamb offal soup in the pan. Taking a bite of the burger, then a sip of the savory, hot soup, followed by a mouthful of offal—it was pure, satisfying bliss.
Andre, now accustod to the lamb-fat chili oil, even added a little of it into his pita.
"Heh, I gotta say, this lamb-fat chili oil is a magic ingredient. It makes everything taste good."
Even though the spice had turned his face bright red, he refused to put down his food. In fact, he seed to be enjoying the burn.
After eating and drinking his fill, he let out a loud belch.
He plopped down on the bed. "Lin, I’ve spent the better part of the day just eating your food without doing any work. The viewers are gonna say I’m just mooching off you~"
Lin Chen glanced at the earthen bed Andre was sitting on, which was covered with a thick layer of hay and fir needles. He found it odd that the guy hadn’t noticed anything strange about it.
’Of course, since I’m using a Swedish torch for my fire and not the stove connected to the bed, the platform won’t get warm.’
As if sensing the fleeting glance, Andre patted the platform he was on. "Lin, you just built this earthen bed, right? It’s a good idea. Raising it up helps keep the winter cold from seeping up from the ground. It’d be even better if it were made entirely of wood, though."
"Mm."
Lin Chen just gave a noncommittal grunt, showing no intention of revealing his hand.
’This was Lin’s base camp, after all, so Andre didn’t press the issue. Ultimately, they were still competitors. If he doesn’t want to take the advice, that’s on him. It won’t be a problem for now, but as the temperature outside keeps dropping, he’ll catch a cold sleeping on a dirt bed for too long. When he eventually gets sick and has to drop out, he’ll definitely rember the advice I gave him today. He might even thank for it then.’
"If you really want to do sothing..."
He rested his chin in his hand, pondering for a mont. "How about this? Go check the area near the river and see if you can find a good spot to build a warehouse. As the snow gets deeper, travel will beco more difficult. It would be much more convenient if we had a warehouse set up beforehand to store our food."
"The river, huh? Okay, I’ll go check it out. In another half-month to a month, almost all the bears will be starting to hibernate, so it’ll be much less dangerous over there."
He nodded and, taking advantage of the remaining daylight, walked straight out into the wind and snow.
Lin Chen, anwhile, stared at the remaining food in his storeroom, lost in thought.
’What should I make for breakfast tomorrow?’
’I’ve traded most of the at for seasonings. All that’s left now are so lamb bones, less than half a lamb, so wolf and bear at, one chicken, forty kilograms of potatoes, and all sorts of dried wild mushrooms.’
’Oh, right. And the two King Salmon.’
’How about fish?’
’Pan-fried fish fillets would be nothing new to Andre, and I eat them all the ti myself. No point in making that.’
’Burgers are out of the question. Flour is even more precious than seasonings. That al just now used up three hundred grams, which is more than half a bag. I want to save it for noodles or dumplings later on.’
’There aren’t many salmon dishes in Chinese cuisine; it’s mostly a Western thing. In that case... I’ve got it!’
’Salmon patties!’
At that thought, he imdiately took out a ter-long King Salmon, which was frozen solid. He pressed his sharp military knife against the fish just behind the gills, cut inward, then turned the blade and sliced all the way to the tail, effortlessly carving off the entire fillet.
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