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Now reading: Chapter 10: The First Bowl of Mixed Pork Congee from Gourmet: Midnight Vending, a Drama novel by Civet cats love eating coriander.

Unwrapping the plastic wrap, the sister had cleaned it fairly well, but Chen Mo still took bottled water from the storage box and poured it into the basin to wash it once more.

He then started to process the ingredients.

[Three Cuts, One Chop for the Intestines]

As the words appeared before his eyes, Chen Mo was surprised to discover that today’s system not only had text but also a demonstration video in his mind!

In his mind, the knife cut the intestines three tis without cutting through, and the fourth cut finally severed it.

Following the demonstration thod in his mind, along with the progress bar in front of him, Chen Mo began to try changing the way he cut the ingredients.

Kidneys, lean at, pig heart, and liver were all sliced into thin pieces.

The fresh pig offal was soft to the touch and still retained a bit of warmth, making it difficult to handle. Even with the aid of the system, Chen Mo took nearly ten minutes to cut it all.

After processing the ingredients, Chen Mo suddenly realized that the masked custor had been standing in front of the cart watching him without him knowing.

"Boss, how many dumplings are left?"

Old Zhao, having finished twenty-five dumplings, put his mask back on.

"Seventy-five."

"Alright, I’ll take them all." Old Zhao swiftly paid 150 Yuan by scanning a QR code.

Upon hearing the paynt confirmation, Chen Mo separated the remaining dumplings in the pan into a large bowl and handed them out.

This ti, Old Zhao wasn’t in a hurry to eat. He stood in front of the cart, looking at the items in Chen Mo’s hands, "Is this pig offal?"

"Yes, it just arrived fresh."

Old Zhao nodded, "Do you also sell stir-fried dishes?"

Jingzhou people have a notion that offal must be stir-fried, with a lot of green onions, ginger, and garlic added to remove the odor. So seeing the ingredients in Chen Mo’s hands, Old Zhao’s first thought was stir-fried dishes.

Chen Mo arranged the sliced pig offal on plates according to type, "It’s not stir-fried dishes, it’s porridge. These are the ingredients I use for cooking porridge."

Old Zhao: ???

He asked, slightly perplexed, "You an, you’re going to put this pig offal into congee?"

"Not congee, it’s porridge," Chen Mo corrected Old Zhao, "This is called Pig Offal Porridge."

"Tsk tsk..."

Old Zhao smacked his lips, sowhat unsure, "How about this, give a bowl to taste once it’s done."

If it were ordinary porridge, he really wouldn’t bother, as a bowl of porridge for fifteen Yuan sounded like a rip-off.

But with pig offal added, the price didn’t seem too high. However, Old Zhao was a bit puzzled, as pig offal has a heavy sll, and it didn’t seem like this young owner used any special ingredients for marination.

He only added a little soy sauce, cornstarch, pepper, and salt to the sliced pig offal, with a final drizzle of oil.

"No rice wine? No onions or ginger? How do you get rid of the sll?" Old Zhao was very puzzled.

So puzzled that he forgot what he was here for, all thoughts of extre fast-food enjoynt tossed aside, with only the delicious dumplings and the curious pig offal porridge in his mind now.

If he knew it was a really delicious pig offal porridge, Old Zhao might not eat it.

But now, not knowing if the stuff was good, Old Zhao felt he had to try it.

No way around it, the curiosity of a man!

Upon hearing this, Chen Mo nodded and lifted the lid of the clay pot.

"Whoa!" Being very close, Old Zhao was imdiately engulfed by steam when the lid was opened. Once his vision returned to normal, he looked at the clay pot in surprise, "This sll, not bad! I’ve never had this kind of porridge before. Little boss, could you make a bowl without the pig offal?"

Not to ntion anything else, just lifting the lid and the few stirs Chen Mo gave it with a spoon had already made Old Zhao drool!

The porridge Old Zhao imagined: clear broth, softened rice.

The porridge Old Zhao saw: as Chen Mo stirred, the porridge swirled along with the spoon. Lifting a spoonful and letting it pour back, one could visibly see the porridge’s thick texture, and the rice grains weren’t overcooked, looking like they had blossod!

The degree of aroma from the rice emanating from this porridge imdiately brought Old Zhao, who was only three-quarters full, back to a hungry state!

Chen Mo thought for a mont, "I can give you a bowl of plain porridge, but the price can’t change."

This pot of porridge was ant for making Pig Offal Porridge. Selling plain porridge at a lower price would an losing about ten Yuan in revenue, which was unacceptable to Chen Mo.

Old Zhao didn’t argue, "Alright, alright, hurry up and make it. I’m waiting for that bowl of porridge, but I’ll tell you in advance, if it tastes fishy and gross, I’m not paying you!"

Chen Mo grinned, "Don’t worry, if it really ends up like that, I wouldn’t take your money!"

If he genuinely ended up making a pungent pig offal porridge, Chen Mo wouldn’t even forgive himself.

After about ten minutes of marination, Old Zhao didn’t bother to go back and sit; he just stood there waiting for his porridge. He watched as Chen Mo took the marinated pig offal and slowly put it into the pot, stirring as he went. The tripe was added first, cooked briefly before the other ingredients were added.

He only left out Old Zhao’s favorite, the pig kidney.

"What about that?"

Chen Mo stirred the porridge in the clay pot, "The pig kidney can’t be added too early; it cooks as soon as it touches heat."

Actually, this was all based on the progress bar for each ingredient, but Chen Mo couldn’t say that.

Ingredients had to be added in batches slowly. Putting them all in at once would instantly lower the base temperature of the porridge, so adding them gradually could maintain the boiling temperature over high heat.

Eventually, the pig kidney was also added into the clay pot, cooked for about three minutes, before Chen Mo gave his arm a shake.

[Perfect!]

Pig Offal Porridge, perfectly cooked!

Turning to low heat to keep the porridge warm in the clay pot, he grabbed so cilantro for the bottom of the bowl, scooped a ladle of porridge, "Pig Offal Porridge!"

Old Zhao, a bit confused, took the bowl of porridge and carried the forty uneaten fried dumplings back to the small roadside table.

"No seasoning, no ingredients to mask the sll, just plain porridge with pig offal?"

At this mont, Old Zhao felt he must be crazy to feel curious about this stuff.

He munched another dumpling, thinking it over. He had already bought it, so tasting a small bite wouldn’t hurt.

With a disposable plastic spoon, he dug out so porridge and pushed the pig offal aside in the bowl, then blew hard on the spoonful.

The sticky porridge didn’t seem hot, but that was only on the surface. Inside, it could blister a mouth, and Old Zhao knew this well.

He slowly opened his mouth and cautiously sipped a small amount of porridge.

"Hmm?"

Old Zhao was a bit surprised; he really couldn’t taste any fishy sll.

Then he ate the rest of the spoonful.

"Ah?"

Old Zhao’s expression suddenly turned colorful, three parts shocked, three parts puzzled, and four parts disbelief.

The porridge vanished as soon as it entered his mouth, spreading to every corner, the rice grains needing no chewing, lting with just a gentle press along with the broth.

Such a delicate texture, such a dense touch, the porridge base was thick but not sticky, filled with the fragrance of rice. And...

Old Zhao smacked his lips several tis before feeling the aftertaste of the porridge as it went down.

How could it be this tasty?

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