Chef Bai had already simmered two huge pots of lamb soup, adjusting the spice ratios several times.
Yet it still failed to satisfy the guest's demands.
Shen Muyan frowned slightly, unable to figure out what kind of lamb soup rice noodles this guest actually wanted.
Lamb soup rice noodles were not on the Ouri Hotel menu.
The first bowl of lamb rice noodles had been ordered from outside.
The most authentic lamb soup rice noodle shop in Hongchang District had a constant stream of customers every day. Everyone who had eaten there praised its fresh flavor and rich broth.
But after it was brought over, Mr. Tang merely took a small sip, pushed the bowl away, and said, "The flavor's wrong."
After saying that, he spoke no more, stingy with his words.
Yet he remained seated at the dining table. His meaning could not have been clearer: the hotel was to get him another bowl of lamb soup rice noodles. He wanted a replacement.
Because of this middle-aged man's special status, the food and beverage manager did not dare neglect him and went to find Chef Bai in the kitchen.
He hurriedly asked, "Chef Bai, can you make original lamb soup rice noodles?"
When Chef Bai was younger, he had traveled through Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan, where he happened to learn how to make lamb soup. Although he had not made it in a long time, he still remembered the recipe.
He nodded, indicating that he could give it a try.
The kitchen prepared the ingredients, and Chef Bai simmered a pot of original lamb broth. Once it was done, the entire kitchen filled with the rich aroma of lamb soup.
The food and beverage manager tasted a bowl, his eyes lighting up. "Chef Bai, weren't you bragging? You haven't