"As for snacks, they should primarily be crispy – something that quenches thirst without filling you up. Since that's the case, I'll make some potato grates and fried chicken skin."
Considering that Erina Nakiri would be running later and would need to digest a bit, Dylan wasn't planning on making overly filling snacks. Moreover, seeing potatoes and chicken in the kitchen, this idea popped into his mind.
"Fried chicken skin? Won't it be very oily? And I remember chicken skin can be quite pungent…"
Potato grates, needless to say, were a staple for movie-watching; she had bought them when she went to the movies. But this fried chicken skin truly exceeded her scope of understanding.
Indeed, chicken skin was used in some Japanese dishes, but relatively less so. From what she recalled, it was more commonly used in yakitori.
"What you're talking about is when it's not made well. If it's made properly, it naturally won't be like that. It will only bring crispiness and fragrance."
"This kind of thing is hard for me to explain with words. You'll know once you taste it later."
Seeing Erina Nakiri's skepticism about fried chicken skin, Dylan couldn't help but defend it, rolling up his sleeves as he spoke and walking towards the chicken on the cooking counter.
"Let's prep the ingredients before cooking."
As his words fell, a silver flash passed before Erina Nakiri's eyes. The raw chicken in front of her, under her gaze, shed its final covering, revealing its purest, essential muscle.
That "covering" was, with the chicken head to the chicken back as the dividing line, an entire chicken skin that had been perfectly peeled off and placed on the cutting board.
Immediately after, Dylan raised the knife in his hand, sliced it into small, equally sized pieces, and dumped them all into a bowl.
"Spices, dried chilies, Sichuan peppercorns, peanuts, flour, baking powder – everything's here. It's quite suitable."
Turning his head to glance at the remaining ingredients on the cooking counter, Dylan nodded with satisfaction.
Although most were just seasonings, fried chicken skin needed seasonings, so there wasn't a shortage of flavor.
"You're… going to use these leftover ingredients?"
Beside him, Erina Nakiri asked curiously. These were actually leftovers from her experimental cooking yesterday; she hadn't had time to restock today.
"Mhm, everything I need is here, so I'll just use these ingredients."
Hearing Erina Nakiri's words, Dylan nodded, then picked up cornstarch and handed it to her: "Help me mix this with the flour and baking powder…"
Finishing his sentence, Dylan paid her no more mind and turned to process the chicken skin he had put into the bowl.
A bit of yellow wine, used to remove the chicken skin's gamey smell. Sesame oil doesn't cling well, so just a touch to lend some flavor is enough.
Quickly slicing garlic into fine pieces, he then grabbed a handful and put them into the bowl with the chicken skin, letting their flavors meld together.
At the same time, Erina Nakiri brought over the prepared flour mixture and placed it in front of him.
"Go and process the potatoes into grates. No other tools besides a knife are allowed; I'll test your knife skills."
Glancing at the prepared batter, Dylan handed over two potatoes and said.
"Alright."
Erina Nakiri nodded in response, then focused intently on dealing with the potatoes in front of her.
Catching sight of the jar of fermented tofu placed under the stove, Dylan excitedly stepped forward.
Opening the fermented tofu, he added two spoonfuls to the chicken skin, then some chili oil and pepper, mixing thoroughly until the gamey smell was almost completely gone.
"Ah? I don't know who gave this to me. I carelessly forgot about it after tossing it in a corner of the kitchen."
Watching Dylan's excited expression, Erina Nakiri, however, felt a bit awkward.
She recalled this item was probably given to her by some family. She had brought it back and casually left it in a corner of the kitchen. If Dylan hadn't found it today, it probably would have gone bad without anyone using it.
"Then you're being too wasteful. This is an excellent ingredient for cooking! Its texture is delicate and silky smooth, its flavor unique. It's savory, fragrant, and slightly sour on the palate, and the more you chew, the more flavorful it becomes."
Picking up the batter Erina Nakiri had prepared, and hearing her words, Dylan described the deliciousness of the fermented tofu, causing the girl to salivate profusely.
Then, he reached his hand into the batter to stir it, causing the settled starch to rise again. He then coated the chicken skin, continuously mixing until it was thoroughly blended.
"Erina, do you know why baking powder is added to this?"
"To make it puff up and become crispy."
Hearing Dylan's sudden question, Erina Nakiri paused for a moment, then answered with ease.
After pondering for a moment, Erina Nakiri stopped her knife work and showed a pitiful expression, clearly not knowing the purpose of cornstarch.
"Chicken skin has a high water content, so cornstarch is added to make it dry and crisp."
Dylan shook his head, stating the answer. Then he added another spoonful of cold oil to the bowl, mixed it in, and began heating oil in the wok.
"Chicken skin is a very soft, very delicate ingredient, so it needs to be deep-fried until crispy. In some places, it's also called 'soft frying'. This technique was taught during the mid-term assessment…"
Dylan said, these were all things written in the teaching syllabus. But while it was taught, how much they actually learned was an unknown.
"It's good when it reaches about this state. It looks golden and crispy, and it's quite delicious eaten just like this."
Using a strainer to remove them, Dylan picked up a piece of chicken skin and tasted it. The cooking time was perfect.
Beside him, Erina Nakiri was already dumbfounded, her mouth slightly agape. Her gaze shifted between the strainer and Dylan's hand, many thoughts appearing in her mind.
Wasn't that just taken out of the hot oil?
"Soy sauce, MSG, sugar, and a clear syrup; this can actually be used in many dishes. It's a versatile, all-purpose sauce. Since garlic was added earlier, we won't add it again."
Quickly mixing a sauce, and looking at the cooling chicken skin, Dylan adjusted the oil temperature to 150 degrees, then put the golden-colored chicken skin back into the wok for a second fry.
Large bubbles visibly rose in the oil, and the golden chicken skin turned orange-yellow, emitting an even more intense aroma.
Dylan used a strainer to scoop them out and set them aside. He poured the oil from the wok into a bowl, leaving a small amount of residual oil in the wok. Then he added Sichuan peppercorns and dried chilies, slowly frying them until fragrant. Then he added a bit of scallion, continued to cook until fragrant, and finally added the fried chicken skin.
"The sauce should be poured in along the edge of the wok. If water and oil meet directly, it's easy for them to splatter. Pouring along the edge reduces this risk, and the flavor will also be…"
As he spoke, the dish reached its final step. After Dylan poured the sauce along the edge of the wok, a golden light immediately erupted from the pot.
A few minutes later, Dylan turned off the heat.
The golden light from the dish gradually dissipated, leaving only a faint shimmer on the plate. It was, indeed, another Flowing Light Cuisine dish!
As the dish was served, the aroma spreading through the air grew even more intense, making one uncontrollably salivate.
"Here, try it. I quite like this dish. The skin is crispy, the inside is soft and glutinous, and it tastes spicy, savory, and fragrant."
Watching Erina Nakiri, who was already excited, Dylan put a piece of crispy fried chicken skin into his mouth while carrying the plate towards her.
He didn't need to do anything. Just a gentle sway in front of her nose was enough to make her, as if losing her senses, follow the dish with her gaze.
And as Dylan picked up the chicken skin, Erina Nakiri immediately opened her mouth and took a bite. She then felt the crispiness, along with an incredibly rich flavor.
With a gentle bite, countless tiny sounds echoed in her mouth. This crispiness was neither excessively dry nor greasy; it harmonized perfectly.
The fragrance of the seasonings, the numbing sensation of the Sichuan peppercorns, the spiciness of the dried chilies, and the aroma of the peanuts intertwined, forming a complex yet harmonious flavor.
At the same time, the addition of fermented tofu added a unique umami note to the dish, making the overall flavor more robust and profound.
Erina Nakiri closed her eyes in enjoyment, her tongue swirling around Dylan's finger, seemingly devouring every last bit of flavor.
Her hands tightly gripped Dylan's arm, her jaw working continuously, and her body was slightly bowed, her expression appearing suppressed yet restrained.
As she chewed deeper, the chicken skin inside revealed a soft, glutinous, yet elastic texture, forming a distinct contrast, simultaneously bursting with deeper layers of flavor.
"Your body… I really don't know where to begin complaining about it."
Feeling the increasing grip on his arm, and the girl's slightly flushed face, Dylan was momentarily speechless. He could only help lead her to the living room.
After that, he returned to the kitchen, carried the fried chicken skin and potato grates from the stove to the coffee table in front of the sofa, and then saw Erina Nakiri sitting defenselessly on the sofa.
At this moment, the girl was completely powerless. The strong impact from the dish had left her body feeling numb and tingly.
If it were just a glowing-grade dish, she might still endure it with strong willpower. But facing a Flowing Light Cuisine dish, and one made seriously by Dylan…
Even if she tried her utmost to suppress and restrain herself, it was utterly futile.
Fortunately, her surroundings were dim. Although she knew her state wasn't normal, if she couldn't see it, it didn't exist. She just had to pretend to be normal.
Thinking of this, she looked at Dylan, who placed the plate of perfectly colored, fragrant, and delicious fried chicken skin in front of her. Her gaze held a subtle hint of something. Erina Nakiri swallowed hard, and once again reached for her chopsticks.
Even though she really wanted to control herself.
But the dish's aroma was simply too enticing.
So she picked up another piece and put it into her mouth, savoring it with enjoyment.
"Cluck-cluck-cluck!"
A loud, vibrant chicken crow exploded in her mind. Her originally sluggish, lounging body tensed up as if shocked by electricity.
A fierce impact force unleashed from the fried chicken skin in her mouth, surging wildly through her limbs before finally converging at a certain point.
Although she knew she had to control herself, she couldn't. The dish's aroma entered her nostrils, and her hands, as if no longer obeying her, simply refused to stop.
Dylan sat beside her, also in a relaxed state.
He leisurely ate the fried chicken skin and potato grates, his gaze fixed on Tom and Jerry on the big screen. When he saw an interesting part, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Logically speaking, this should have been a very pleasant atmosphere.
But Dylan's cooking was too potent. Erina Nakiri didn't watch TV at all; she just kept eating the snacks on the table.
"If my current state were discovered, Dylan-sensei would definitely think I'm a shameless girl, wouldn't he?"
Greedily licking off the last bit of flavor from her fingers, and feeling her current state, Erina Nakiri suddenly came to her senses, her teeth lightly biting her lower lip, her body trembling terribly.
She secretly glanced at Dylan, who was engrossed in the TV, her fingers lightly tapping on her thigh, feeling the tense muscles.
"Let's stop here for today. In your state, you probably can't train anyway. Hurry and have someone install the equipment. I'll come find you tomorrow…"
The TV began playing the end credits. With a corner of his eye, Dylan glanced at Erina Nakiri's state and sighed softly in his heart.
From her inability to stop taking the fried chicken skin, and the sofa occasionally trembling, he had already guessed Erina Nakiri's current state.
"Next time I visit her, it's probably best not to give cooking demonstrations, lest the teaching can't proceed again."
Dylan stood up, this thought appearing in his mind.
Hearing Dylan's words, Erina Nakiri's face flushed, but she didn't refuse. She merely stood up, wanting to see him off, but because her legs felt weak, as she stood, she immediately sat back down.
"Alright, stay seated. No need to see me out."
Seeing Erina Nakiri's helpless state, Dylan shook his head and waved his hand, then left.
Erina Nakiri watched his retreating back until the door closed. Only then did she let out a long sigh, suppressing the agitation in her heart.
"Go to bed early tonight. Tomorrow is the opening ceremony, and I have to give a speech. And in the afternoon, good training…"
This thought surfaced in her mind. Erina Nakiri propped herself up with the sofa and stood, her steps unsteady, as she headed towards the bathroom.
All she wanted now was a good bath.
And to change out of her soiled clothes.
When Dylan left Erina Nakiri's house, it was already getting dark. He saw Senzaemon Nakiri standing at the entrance, seemingly waiting for him, and Dylan walked up to greet him.
"You've recruited quite a few geniuses for Totsuki."
Looking at the approaching Dylan, Senzaemon Nakiri said with a complex expression.
Although he had been mentally prepared, seeing Dylan recruit several geniuses who had reached First-Grade Head Chef at just fifteen years old still shocked him immensely.
China is truly a holy land of cuisine.
Just a few youngsters arriving could overpower Totsuki's younger generation.
"They're just First-Grade Head Chefs who accumulated their skills through continuous foundational training. It's very difficult for this type to break through to Special Grade; they can't really be called geniuses."
Thinking of today's assessment, and the young men and women chosen and sent by the Dark Cooking Society, Dylan let out a sigh, speaking thus.
"Special Grade Chefs aren't that easy to break through to. Even this old man only achieved the honor of Special Grade Chef when he was nearly 20 years old…"
"That's different."
"Only knowing how to strengthen foundational training while neglecting innovative thinking—this training method is very old-fashioned. While it might not restrict true geniuses, it will cause chefs of average talent to stagnate."
Because they weren't nurtured from a young age, and their time in the Dark Cooking Society wasn't long, Dylan hadn't had time to correct them, so he simply let them be.
However, now that they had come to Totsuki, he had plenty of time to teach and train them. Using the correct methods could greatly accelerate their promotion to Special Grade.
"No matter what, with you at Totsuki, it won't be a big problem. Even if their talents are truly limited, you should still have a way to improve them."
Senzaemon Nakiri saw through his thoughts and spoke those words.
"That statement is indeed correct."
In response to that remark, Dylan nodded, seeming quite pleased.
For a moment, they looked at each other in silence.
"So, you came to see me not just for a casual chat, I presume?"
Dylan spoke.
One doesn't visit a temple without a request. Senzaemon Nakiri almost always had something to ask of him whenever he came over.
"Indeed, I can't hide anything from you. It's actually about the Youth Culinary Academy Tournament."
"Youth Culinary Academy Tournament?"
Dylan's expression showed confusion; it was the first time he had heard of this competition.
On China's side, there was indeed a Youth Culinary Skills Competition, but that was usually organized by province, with a national competition only held once every three years, and a world competition every five years.
After all, different provinces and countries have different cuisines, making the execution of such a competition quite challenging.
As for this Youth Culinary Academy Tournament, he had never heard of it.
More accurately, having already matured as a chef, he wouldn't pay attention to competitions of this level.
"The Youth Culinary Academy Tournament is jointly organized by over a hundred culinary schools worldwide and is held once a year."
"Schools that rank high will receive media promotion and become the preferred choice for aspiring chefs. In other words, they will gain more…"
Senzaemon Nakiri gave a simple introduction, then looked eagerly at Dylan. This was the fastest and most effective way for Totsuki to rise.
"What was Totsuki's previous ranking?"
Dylan asked curiously.
"Around tenth place. To be precise, we haven't broken into the top ten in nearly a decade. Our best ranking was thirteenth."
Senzaemon Nakiri let out a wry laugh, not hiding Totsuki Academy's current situation.
Although it was Japan's top culinary academy, on a global scale, it could barely be considered first-tier, and that was only thanks to the emergence of Eishi Tsukasa in the last two years.
However, Gin Dōjima's generation did achieve an excellent result of top five, which was Totsuki Academy's best performance since its establishment.
"Isn't that just completely unacceptable…"
Dylan scoffed softly, not immediately agreeing. Instead, he pondered for a moment before saying: "What's the competition format? Tell me about it."
"Each academy sends fifty students, who participate in individual matches, team matches, and exhibition matches. Each match awards a certain number of points. The higher the ranking, the exponentially greater the points awarded."
After briefly introducing the tournament format, Senzaemon Nakiri looked eagerly at Dylan.
"I can get Totsuki Academy into the top ten. As you said, the top ten can secure good student recruitment. As for first place, I have other plans."
Since the registration only required fifty participants, why couldn't he bring the Dark Cooking Society to compete? As for whether the organizers would agree, that was the Dark Cooking Society's problem to worry about, he didn't care.
He had painstakingly built a force; if they couldn't even handle such small matters, what was the point of him creating this force?
"Top ten? Alright, I understand."
Hearing Dylan's utterly confident words and meeting his unperturbed gaze, Senzaemon Nakiri's heart inexplicably skipped a beat. He then nodded in affirmation.
He almost forgot, the person before him was a Seven-Star Special Grade Chef. His repeated requests were nothing more than wanting his two granddaughters to follow him.
But putting those aside, the two of them had no entangled interests whatsoever. In fact, the other party's status was above his own.
Understanding this, Senzaemon Nakiri no longer put on airs as an elder. He slightly bowed his waist, not daring to ask for anything else.
"Mhm, we'll talk about the specifics closer to the competition. Discussing them now is pointless."
Seeing the old man being so sensible, Dylan nodded and said.
"From now on, everything proceeds as normal. I recall you have some dormitory training camp, and the Autumn Elections. This Youth Culinary Academy Tournament, according to what you said, should be after the Autumn Elections, right?"
A flicker of understanding crossed Dylan's eyes.
If combined with this competition, he could then understand Totsuki's activity arrangements.
The dormitory training camp improves chefs' abilities, while the Autumn Elections validate their surged strength and also select the fifty contestants for the Youth Culinary Academy Tournament.
Everything was for the sake of achieving a good ranking.
Senzaemon Nakiri nodded. Looking at Dylan's expression, he clearly understood that the other party had already guessed the true meaning of the Autumn Elections.
"Cancel the dormitory training camp, move the Autumn Elections forward, and then I'll arrange special training."
After a moment of contemplation, Dylan suddenly spoke.
The mid-term assessment had already screened out a group of people, and at the same time laid a solid foundation for these guys.
After half a year of elementary division life, this foundational knowledge should have transformed into strength. Thus, what they needed most was no longer special training, but rather to compete against opponents of similar strength and realize their shortcomings through competition.
Although a bit hesitant, Senzaemon Nakiri still agreed. When it came to training students, Dylan had more experience than he did, which had already been proven.
As of now, over eighty percent of Totsuki Academy students were Second-Grade Chefs, with several close to First-Grade Head Chef. They weren't far from the strongest generation.
The high school division was when students improved the fastest, as with age, their minds matured, and their understanding of cooking deepened.
In other words, under Dylan's guidance, this current batch of students might even surpass Gin Dōjima's generation and become Totsuki's most outstanding graduates; it wasn't impossible.
Since the outcome was already set, all he had to do was act as a hands-off boss.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going now. We can chat again when you have time."
Once again, they looked at each other in silence, and Dylan understood he should leave.
"Be careful on your way."
Senzaemon Nakiri didn't try to keep him, merely watching his retreating figure in silence. Then he looked at Erina Nakiri's house, wondering what he was thinking.
"Let the youngsters handle the rest."
Shaking his head, Senzaemon Nakiri chuckled softly, then also turned and departed.
As for Dylan, he was currently humming a tune, heading home with immense leisure.
After a day of busy work, it was time to relax and rest. He wondered what outfit Alice Nakiri had prepared for tonight, and if she could continue to surprise him.
Thinking of this, Dylan quickened his pace.
A little over ten minutes later.
He arrived at his doorstep, opened the door, and called out inside: "I'm home."
-
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