Hearing Officer Cai's stainless-steel ladle was just the right size, too. One full ladle could fill a Jade Bottle. He stirred the oil in the basin until it was evenly mixed, then held the ladle over the bottle's mouth and gave his wrist a slight turn. A stream of oil flowed straight to the bottom.
It didn't spill, touch the sides, or waste a drop. It was the work of a true master oil seller.
Nothing else mattered; he'd simply done it so often that he'd mastered it!
The huge basin of specially made Spicy Chili Oil was portioned into more than thirty Jade Bottles. Satisfied, Li Bai left the cafeteria and headed straight for his tavern.
Now that he had Hearing Officer Cai's recipe and a sample, he wanted to see if he could make it himself.
Even if he couldn't reproduce it to seventy or eighty percent, even thirty or forty percent would be enough to satisfy those customers. The key was keeping it affordable. That was what mattered most.
Li Bai's Tavern had twelve regular cooks: two rotating head chefs, four chefs, two prep cooks, two butchers, two vegetable washers, and eight apprentices.
The kitchen was enormous, at least a hundred square meters, with stoves and sinks, refrigerators and freezers, worktables, and every kind of knife and cookware.
Starting at nine in the morning local time, it bustled nonstop. By the lunch and dinner rushes, the kitchen was in utter chaos.
Of all the jobs at the tavern, cooking required a bit more skill. So it took a full two weeks of hands-on instruction from the cooks in the Chinese peacekeeping force and Li Bai before the trainees showed even a little promise.
They were basically like Temporary Workers at KFC or McDonald's: follow the recipe, stick