The next moment, everyone took a paper cup, rinsed their mouths, and drank some to quench their thirst.
After the dads had finished all their preparations, they all looked at Xie Hengze and said:
"Everything's completely fine now, right? If we leave any more time, we'll have to go."
"After all, our pots are still cooking. If our lunch burns, you won't be able to afford it."
"Yeah. Look, you've only fried one dish. Isn't your meal ready yet?"
When the bosses came over to taste his pot, Xie Hengze nodded in agreement. Pickled mustard greens were a small yellow side dish. He guaranteed that after eating it, they would still want more. It definitely wasn't as bad as they imagined.
This time, Xie Hengze was ninety-nine percent confident in the dish he had made, because that confidence came from his longing and nostalgia for his childhood.
Back then, the pickled mustard greens and little yellow eel soup he ate had truly been delicious beyond compare, so from the beginning, he had called it a special dish lost to the folk.
One of the dads said, "I hope so, because we hope you can open a restaurant in Shihai and share this distinctive folk dish that has been lost with countless people."
After hearing that, Xie Hengze kept nodding and said, "No problem, but that depends on how you feel about it."
"Anyway, in my opinion, my cooking is definitely unique. Although it isn't as unique as Deng Xin's, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. My cooking skills aren't bad."
At Xie Hengze's confident invitation, all the dads used their chopsticks to pick up a small piece of eel from the pot.
Then they looked at its color and found that it was not as distinctive or beautiful