He definitely didn’t know much about cooking, but that didn’t an he was ignorant of basic common sense. After all, he always had to fend for himself in the wild.
"It’s not bear or lamb, and it’s probably not wolf... Oh, I know!"
"King Salmon! Right?"
"Ha, I’m a genius! That’s right, it’s King Salmon. So these must be salmon burger patties, then?"
Andre was like a kid who’d just gotten the top score in class, excitedly slapping his thigh and dancing on the spot.
Lin Chen just smiled. He was getting used to the old guy’s occasional eccentric behavior.
Even though he was almost forty, he still had a fiery, child-like innocence that didn’t match his age, probably from spending most of his life in the wild.
The four salmon atballs sizzled in the pan. The fish’s natural oils slowly rendered out, transferring the high heat from the outside to the inside.
When he felt they were about ready, Lin Chen took the wooden board he usually used for cutting vegetables and pressed it down hard on the atballs, flattening them into round, finger-thick patties before lifting it away.
After being pressed, the minced salmon had more surface area in contact with the pan, and the sizzling sound of rendering fat grew even more distinct.
Wisps of steam rose from the pan, carrying the unique aroma of salmon oil. The mont the scent hit them, both of their stomachs couldn’t help but rumble in protest.
He pan-fried them for a little over a minute. When the edges had clearly turned a toasty golden-brown, he gripped the handle with his left hand and gently shook the pan back and forth.
Once he confird the patties had fird up, he gave the pan a light toss. Two of the patties flew into the air, elegantly flipped 180 degrees, and landed deftly back in the pan.
He shook the pan again to rearrange the four patties, then flipped the other two with another clean, decisive toss.
He hadn’t even used a spatula. The ability to control the food in the pan so precisely with just the strength of his wrist—this display of flair left Andre completely stunned.
It was just as incredible as the first ti he’d seen him flip the pan and it had burst into flas.
After flipping them, he sprinkled so crushed black pepper and sea salt over the fish. Fresh ingredients like these only needed simple seasoning; too many spices would just mask the food’s natural deliciousness.
About two minutes later, all four salmon patties, seared to a perfect crisp on the outside, were done. He arranged them in a slanted row on the wooden board.
"These look amazing! The color is much lighter than what you get in restaurants. I haven’t even tasted them yet, but they already seem so much softer and juicier."
Almost all restaurants that sell salmon burger patties do it the sa way. They grind the fish in a food processor, or have a wholesaler grind it for them in advance, then add sea salt, black pepper, and so other seasoning powders.
That was the only difference in taste.
Then they just roll them into atballs, flatten them, and cook them on a griddle or grill until they’re done.
Whether they’re served plain or with bread as a hamburger depends on the owner’s mood.
Andre couldn’t wait. He stabbed a patty with his chopsticks, lifted it to his lips, touched it briefly, and swallowed hard. He resisted the urge to devour it like a wild animal and took a small, cautious bite.
CRUNCH.
The unexpectedly crispy exterior made his eyes light up, followed imdiately by a gush of scalding hot juices.
The rich, llow aroma of the salmon oil flowed into his mouth with the savory juices. A light saltiness paired with the spice of black pepper perfectly elevated the seafood’s fragrance to another level while also cutting through any slight greasiness.
But what shocked him most was that it tasted even more tender than it looked!
It had a satisfying firmness, like a atball, yet his teeth only had to touch it lightly—no force needed—to easily break the patty apart.
Traditional salmon patties aren’t much different from a cooked salmon fillet; the at gets tough once cooked through. The skin, in particular, which is exposed to high heat for a long ti, becos hard and tough like pork. Only the pink center retains that lt-in-your-mouth texture.
But the one Lin Chen made was completely different.
Besides the crispy, seared crust on the outside, the fish inside was so tender it was practically gushing with juice. The at would dissolve instantly with just a gentle press of his tongue.
He’d had salmon with this texture and doneness before, but only when it was baked in an oven. It was this tender right after coming out.
Lin Chen also speared a piece and ate it in small bites. He was quite satisfied with the creation he’d whipped up on a whim.
’If there was any flaw, it was the lack of burger buns and toppings. Eating the patties plain felt a bit monotonous.’
That’s what he thought, but for the unpretentious foreigner, it was just right.
He had just finished one patty when Andre was already reaching his chopsticks toward the last one, staring with innocent, pleading blue eyes.
"Lin, are you going to eat this one? It’ll get cold if you don’t."
"...You can have it." The corner of his mouth twitched. He waved his hand and pointed to the iron pot nearby. "I was just tasting it. I’m going to have the bear paw and noodles later."
He hadn’t even finished speaking before Andre had already taken a huge bite out of half the last salmon patty.
He started by boiling a pot of water and adding a pinch of salt. Then, he wiped the wooden board clean with snow, took out the dough that had been resting for a while, dusted its surface with dry flour, and rolled it flat. He folded it over and used a knife to cut it into thin, long strips.
Once the water was boiling, he grabbed a handful of noodles, gave them a few shakes to get rid of the excess flour, and dropped them in.
There wasn’t a lot of pasta—a little over 300 grams—just enough for one bowl of noodles each. It might not have been enough to get them completely full, but combined with the patties from before, it was about right.
"You can make noodles like this? I thought it was like making Italian pasta."
"Italian pasta is made with eggs, and it doesn’t use this kind of flour. It’s made with durum wheat, which is a hard wheat. Simply put, it has a higher protein content and a firr texture. It’s an ingredient specifically for making pasta."
"Regular wheat is softer, and the noodles made from it are easier to digest. It’s mainly used in East Asia."
The noodles cooked quickly. They all floated to the surface less than two minutes after being dropped into the boiling water.
He scooped the noodles directly into the iron pot and mixed them with the sauce from the braised bear paw.
The snow-white noodles were instantly coated in the date-red sauce, becoming glossy and appetizing.
"This is deboned bear paw, cooked using the most common and popular thod in our Great Xia—red-braising, which is basically soy sauce and sugar. I simred it all night. Do you dare try it?"
Using the small frying pan as a bowl again, Lin Chen served himself a bear paw first, then looked at Andre with a calm expression.
His gaze was devoid of any emotion, a simple question, but Andre felt as if his dignity had been greatly provoked.
Trusting in Lin Chen’s culinary skills, he didn’t even hesitate before holding out his small frying pan.
"What’s there to be afraid of? A man can’t say no!"
That’s what he said, but when the other bear paw was actually placed in front of him, its jiggly, translucent, Jell-O-like texture still made him hesitate for a mont.
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