Then, he filled his own stainless steel pot and the 5-gallon barrel with crushed ice, starting the first round of ice lting.
"I need to first lt the initial batch of boiling water in the pot, pour it into the pit, and let the crushed ice in the pit turn into the first batch of fresh water."
"We need to start a hot water source; directly throwing hot stones into solid ice blocks has too small a contact area, resulting in very low heat transfer efficiency."
"Most of the heat would be wasted as steam; it's much quicker to throw hot stones into water."
Soon, the crushed ice in the pot lted into clear fresh water and gradually began to emit steam.
When the water was fully boiled, making a "gurgling" sound, he imdiately lifted the scalding pot and evenly poured it over the ice blocks at the bottom of the pit.
"Sizzle——!"
The boiling water ca in contact with the cold ice and instantly released a large amount of white steam. The surface of the ice lted at a speed visible to the naked eye, forming a small puddle of water.
He did not stop, imdiately using the 5-gallon barrel to scoop more ice from the ice heap, refilling the stainless steel pot and putting it back on the fire to continue boiling.
Boiling, carrying, pouring...
He repeated this action about six or seven tis, each ti causing the puddle at the bottom of the pit to expand and deepen.
When he poured the last pot of boiling water, the bottom of the giant "stone pot" had already ford a water layer more than ten centiters deep and holding nearly fifteen liters.
anwhile, in the main stove's massive fire pile, dozens of stones had already been heated red-hot.
He used two thick, wet wooden sticks as tongs to clamp a red-hot stone, accompanied by a trail of steam and hissing sounds, and dropped it into the "stone pot."
"Sizzle——!"
At the mont the stone entered the water, it was as if a bomb had been thrown in, and the water violently boiled, erupting with a large amount of white steam!
He established a perfect circulation system, continually taking hot stones from the main stove and adding them to the pit, heating the water source.
At the sa ti, he constantly supplented the pond with freshly lted hot water from the auxiliary stove.
The continuous output from the two heat sources allowed the water inside the entire "stone pot" to maintain a sufficiently hot temperature. After more than half an hour, the pond had accumulated several liters of boiling hot water!
Now, he began to handle the mussels.
Using the axe, like mining, he diligently chipped off a large piece from the giant mussel deposit.
He placed those mussels, still frozen together, into the fine sh fishing net bag he brought, and then subrged it entirely into the boiling pot pit.
The cold mussels caused the water's heat to drop slightly, but he imdiately tossed in a few red-hot stones, causing the water to boil violently again.
Under the high temperature, the mussels quickly defrosted and, due to the evaporation of internal moisture and the heating of the adductor muscle, popped open with a "pop" sound.
A few minutes later, when he lifted the net bag from the water, all the mussels inside had opened up, perfectly cooked.
He poured the cooked mussels aside to cool, then imdiately chiseled down another batch of "mussel ore" for the second round of cooking.
This was a lengthy but efficient assembly line operation.
All afternoon, the desolate coast was filled with the rich aroma of seafood and billowing white steam.
This ti, unlike before, he had a food storage barrel and needed to save space.
Sitting by the fire, he began the final step of removing the mussel at.
He extracted only the safest adductor muscle parts, discarding all other innards, transforming hundreds of pounds of shelled mussels into dozens of kilograms of cooked mussel at.
Lin Yu'an filled the 5-gallon plastic barrel with this concentrated protein essence.
"Alright, folks, loaded and ready to go ho."
He slung on his backpack, easily lifted the heavy barrel of mussel at, and headed toward the shelter.
The way ho was far more challenging than the journey there.
Without the sunlight of the day, the temperature plumted, and the snowy ground beca harder and slipperier.
Every step required him to maintain his own balance while combating the more than twenty kilograms of shifting weight in his hands.
When he finally returned to the front of the shelter, night had fully fallen, and he heavily placed the barrel of mussel at on the snow, letting out a long sigh of relief.
He first carefully stored the precious barrel of cooked mussel at in the 55-gallon giant barrel buried in the snow, the "underground cellar."
After completing all this, he dragged his exhausted, nearly numb body into the warm shelter.
Today, he had undergone a massive "production operation," expending a huge amount of energy, with every cell in his body craving heat and protein.
He needed a dinner that could be quickly made to replenish energy, rather than a ticulously crafted culinary show.
His mind flashed through the stored food, passing over the lobster representing the ultimate feast, and finally focused on the Hairy Scale Fish and Snow Crab.
"Alright, folks, dinner ti."
"Lobster is a future reward, but snow crab is the reward most deserved at this mont."
He took out two snow crabs and a handful of Hairy Scale Fish from the large barrel. Snow crabs, being relatively simple in structure, thawed and cooked quickly, perfectly fitting the state of urgently needing to replenish stamina.
He placed the stainless steel pot on the fire, dug out a large block of fat from a shell-contained, solidified milky-white paste-like container, and placed it in the pot.
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