"If my deadbeat husband cooked with even half the grace that Boss Chen does, would I be drooling over my phone every day?"
"Just watching him cook is already a delight. Imagine if I could eat a bowl of noodles made by Boss Chen himself... Sigh!"
I have to admit, no matter the era, looks are always the ultimate power. Chen Mo was completely oblivious to the chatter around him, focusing solely on his ferocious noodle-pulling.
In Jingzhou, a skilled cook can whip up enough noodles for a dozen young lads in about ten minutes. Chen Mo now appeared to be a seasoned noodle-pulling master.
In just about ten minutes, the dough on the wooden board in his arm had become too thin to pull any further.
Chen Mo set the board down, stirred the pot with a black ladle a few times, then covered it to let the water continue boiling.
Next, he took out a second-hand loudspeaker and started speaking to the crowd still eagerly chasing the food truck behind him.
