The changes in the estate weren’t significant, perhaps because they intentionally wanted to preserve childhood mories, without making any major alterations. The fireplace, carpet, and sofa were all still there. The only noticeable difference was that the garden looked much better, considering that rkel was happily working at a shop in the inner world, and likely wouldn’t consider taking on the butler role again, things should continue improving.
The long table in the dining room had evidently been refurbished, or perhaps even replaced. Harley laid a purple table runner on it, with white vases holding dried roses and cattails. The tableware was deep blue, paired with silver knives and forks, creating a strangely beautiful aesthetic.
A massive chandelier hung above the dining room, which had been there before but seed brighter now, illuminating the entire dining area brilliantly. The table was filled with people, making the atmosphere lively.
"Ahem," Harley raised a glass and said, "Thank you all for coming here. There’s really not much to this, just flaunting my design accomplishnts at the food processing plant. The candies on the small plates in front of you are flavors I’ve developed. As for the dishes, they were prepared at the food processing plant, preserved with dense ice until now. I can assure you the flavors have not changed at all and are still piping hot. Let’s give it a try."
Out of courtesy, Arrogant took a piece of candy. He scrutinized the flavor on it, confirming it as strawberry chocolate before putting it in his mouth. Unexpectedly to him, the strawberry noted in the flavor was not an essence but freeze-dried strawberry chunks, complented by slightly bitter dark chocolate and another kind of milk chocolate filling, which tasted quite good.
Greed was eating toffee, though it only had an outer layer of toffee; inside, the filling tasted like lemon gel jelly, which nicely offset the sweetness of the toffee, making it quite enjoyable.
Then ca the dishes. All the dishes on the table were placed in semi-transparent containers; the contents inside looked decent, but considering Harley said they might have been made at the factory earlier that morning, most people held low expectations for their flavors.
In Arica nowadays, there are already many pre-prepared dishes, including various fast foods, and even high-end restaurants have started using pre-prepared als. However, in Gotham, which built a logistics center early and was coastal, anyone except the very poor could get fresh food, which in turn made their tastes especially discerning.
Arrogant, after so selecting, eventually went for a safe choice. Although he always felt ribs could be tireso, among all the ats, small ribs from beef or lamb were still the best part. Stale or cold at could be less palatable, but with this table full of mostly ats, everyone could only choose among an array of at ingredients.
Greed, after careful consideration, opted for Thuringian sausage with mashed potatoes. Sausage, fresh or not, once cooked, was hard to make taste bad. Frozen mashed potatoes weren’t particularly bad either—wasting them might be shaful, but it’s better to waste mashed potatoes than sothing else.
Most people chose dishes with this mindset, picking items that wouldn’t be especially unpalatable even if they were not fresh or cold. Only the Victor couple chose seafood—one fish, the other scallops. Everyone looked at them with admiration; when seafood isn’t fresh, it’s not about taste—it’s about which hospital ward you’d end up in after eating it.
Yet, due to their self-sacrificing spirit, there were no leftovers on the table, avoiding an awkward situation. Harley herself chose a braised lamb tail and a vegetable chowder.
Arrogant lifted the lid, and as he did, an aroma burst forth, even steaming, as if the chef were cooking right under the table, and had just brought it up.
The packaging must have been done the instant it was hot off the stove, Arrogant was very sure, as the Maillard reaction on the surface of the at looked quite fresh and might even still be reacting, as if the stove had been served along with it.
Arrogant cut off a small piece of at and put it in his mouth. Slightly hot, but very tender and juicy. For him, the seasoning was a bit salty, but it didn’t affect the freshness of the at.
Greed took a bite of the sausage and widened his eyes. He couldn’t help but whisper, "Did she hide the chef under the table? This tastes like freshly stuffed sausage."
He then tasted the mashed potatoes; they were quite ordinary, but the black pepper added a special flavor to it.
Because the dishes were steaming hot, everyone was busy feasting, and no one spoke. Once they’d eaten their fill, Arrogant wiped his mouth and asked, "So it can ensure the dishes are just as fresh when sent to Krypton?"
"Yes, and the cost isn’t high either. The packaging is relatively expensive, but since Gotham is a logistics center on the East Coast, various ingredients are relatively cheap. After squeezing the cost of ingredients, a slightly expensive packaging isn’t much of an issue."
"That’s right, and if we also use expansive plants to further compress ingredient costs, this would be the perfect choice for interstellar workers," Pala said.
"I just feel that chefs with diocre culinary skills can finally retire. Dishes of this culinary level will be the best anti-depressant," Bruce added.
Greed looked at his plate; he had to admit, beyond the magical preservation technology, the chef’s skills were quite superb. Although the sausage didn’t seem different, the selection of at, the standard of stuffing and chopping, the level of seasoning, and the thod of filling were all crucial—special-flavored sausages could even support an entire restaurant.
"You all agree it’s quite excellent, right?"
Everyone nodded in agreent. Harley said with excitent, "Brainiac, you lost! I told you before, the dishes I’ve developed can absolutely win over the world’s most discerning palates!"
"What do you an? You called us over because you made a bet with Brainiac?" Jason asked.
"Brainiac thought this preservation thod could perfectly preserve ingredients and then be processed on Krypton. But I believe that only on Earth can the most flavorful dishes be made, so we made a bet—if my dishes could win your approval, then we would produce them."
"You just said we are the most discerning people in the world," Arrogant asked.
"Yes, you have eaten in all sorts of expensive restaurants, even tasted global cuisines. If the taste of these dishes can conquer you, they can be considered as exquisite delicacies."
"Hold on," Greed suddenly interjected, "About your claim that ’these dishes won over our taste buds,’ I have a sowhat different opinion. The evaluation of a dish’s taste is mainly based on your expectations. Considering your previous description of the way of cooking, our expectations were set quite low, which is why we found it decent."
"But if you ask , there are still many issues with the sausage and mashed potatoes: firstly, the mashed potatoes were over-whipped, having no texture at all when eaten; too much black pepper was added; the sausage was delicious, but the sauce poured over was too sour; and the beans as a side dish were a bit undercooked. Besides, shouldn’t the beans deserve a sauce of their own? Sharing the sa sauce with the sausages makes their flavors too similar..."
"Ahem, regarding these baby back ribs, I also think there’s an issue of being overly seasoned," Arrogant added, "But these are all minor problems, the key lies in this: Although the at is tender, the sinew connecting the at to the bone is still a bit tough, which ans the cooking ti was too short, focusing too much on sealing in the juices without considering the different temperatures required for various parts..."
The two of them left Harley speechless. She sighed and said, "I was wrong, I thought your usual pickiness was already extre, didn’t realize it was just the tip of the iceberg!"
"But actually, none of these are real problems," Greed continued, "In this regard, I agree with Brainiac. If your goal is to have the whole world eat this kind of ’simplistically cooked white man’s al,’ even if you make it fancy, it would inevitably harm the ntal health of so people over ti. As a psychiatrist, I can’t let that happen."
Brainiac imdiately beeped twice in agreent. Harley raised her voice and said, "This is not so ’simplistically cooked white man’s al’! It’s been cooked ticulously by a chef..."
"ticulously cutting a piece of at, then ticulously placing it on a grill to cook, ticulously sprinkling black pepper, and then serving it—like that, and the black pepper was overdone." Arrogant was rciless.
"I also think there shouldn’t be any ’universal food,’" Bruce said, "Not everyone can adapt to the sa cooking thod, everyone has their own tastes. Instead of sending finished products to the planet for people from different countries around the world to eat the sa thing, it would be better to send ingredients and let them cook it themselves. Ti will tell."
Harley seed a bit frustrated. Greed nudged Arrogant with his elbow and said, "I guess it’s because you’ve never cooked for the kids, they think those trendy restaurants around Fifth Avenue are everything."
"Alright," Arrogant sighed, then looked at Harley and said, "Let explain it to you another way, our stringent critiques are not just to pick on you, Miss Quinzel. Perhaps we can invite you to dinner tomorrow, how about that?"
Harley was a bit surprised, she said, "You an to your place for dinner? Well, that’s fine, but when I was driving near there today, Brainiac’s GPS warned that it’s a dangerous nature reserve, with wild beasts roaming, and passage is forbidden."
Harley’s phone imdiately emitted a sharp noise, drowning out her words. anwhile, a ssage from Brainiac popped up on Arrogant’s phone: "I ant the possible presence of child abductors. They might co back for equipnt, it’s dangerous for ordinary people, so that area is temporarily off-limits to outsiders."
"Don’t you think you’re being a bit too obvious about hiding sothing?"
"I’m just trying to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings."
After a brief thought, Greed seed to have settled on tomorrow’s nu, so he said, "Even though we’re a day late, tomorrow is still a holiday, and we can hold a Halloween dinner party. Anyone interested in joining?"
Clearly, people were eager to find out what concrete evidence Shiller had. So they agreed to hold another dinner at Shiller’s house the day after Halloween.
Preparing for a dinner party in a day is sowhat tight, but after all, it’s not going to be a huge event. If we act quickly, ti should be enough. And before that, Shiller has a bigger problem to solve.
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