Lamb Hot Pot

The lamb hot pot restaurant was steaming with heat.

Jiangcheng University had long since begun its winter break, and with the New Year just around the corner, the hot pot restaurant's business was still booming.

Lu Ban had no idea whether this place was authentic or not. Either way, he thought it tasted pretty good.

Sometimes, authentic did not necessarily mean delicious. People in different places had different tastes, and what suited one region might not sit well with people from elsewhere.

Take Yan'nan's specialty, douzhi, for example. The old residents of Yan'nan might love it, but people from other places might drink it and immediately throw up.

The pot held nothing but clear water, with some goji berries and scallions tossed in. The copper pot boiled, filling the air with mist.

The fatty, tender lamb-tail fat hit the pot and immediately began to roll. The rich lamb aroma spread through the air. Paired with freshly ground sesame paste mixed with peanut butter, chive-flower sauce, and the like, every bite completely awakened the appetite.

The sliced lamb tripe carried a hint of gaminess. After bobbing a few times in the oil-flecked broth, it could be sent straight into the mouth. Its texture was pleasantly springy when chewed, offering an experience entirely different from lamb-tail fat.

The star of the meal was the lamb's ribeye, the half-fatty, half-lean meat located behind the neck. It tasted best when thoroughly cooked—tender and delicious, fresh with just the right amount of chewiness. One slice was enough to send anyone to heaven.

The hand-sliced lamb stood upright on the plate without falling over. When it dropped into the pot, not a trace of blood seeped onto the plate. This kind of meat was best eaten while it still retained a hint of red—neither fully cooked