Old Zack's shout was a reminder for Lin Chen. He immediately grabbed two new plates, filled them with fried chicken skins, and went from stall to stall offering free samples.
Westerners might not usually eat chicken skin, but they didn't have much of a psychological aversion to it. After all, it was just skin, not something like offal that could make people squeamish.
It was just like fish skin; as long as a restaurant made it delicious, people would still eat it.
The reason they didn't normally eat it was simply that they didn't know how to prepare it, or couldn't be bothered.
After making a round, the simple yet potent fried chicken skins had won over almost everyone.
He had just returned to his stall when he found more than a dozen people already gathered around. Behind them were several other stall owners who hadn't gotten their fill and had followed him back.
"Lin, how much are the chicken skins? I want to buy a portion!"
