With a deft turn of his wrist, the moderately thick strip of meat seemed to pass briefly through the campfire's outer flames. He flipped it, seared it once more, and let it fall gently into Ning Tian's bowl.
In the firelight, Ning Tian's and Wu Feng's faces were flushed, lending them a little extra beauty.
When Ning Tian looked down, she saw glistening roasted meat that still seemed slightly pink, not quite cooked through.
"Eat it while it's hot. That's when it tastes best."
Even as Chen Ping reminded them, the second slice was already cooked and landed in Wu Feng's bowl.
Both women loved food to begin with. At his words, they stopped worrying about anything else, speared the strips in their bowls with their forks, lightly dipped them into the thick sauce, and brought them to their mouths.
The sauce was not overpowering, but it was wonderfully fragrant, and the meat dipped in it was exceptionally silky and tender.
After just two or three chews, it dissolved into rich, fragrant juices that slipped down their throats. That mellow flavor and silky texture nearly made Ning Tian and Wu Feng bite their tongues.
"Ha! Delicious, delicious! Your cooking really is the best, Chen Ping. That one bite alone made our trip to see you worthwhile."
Wu Feng swallowed the strip almost as though gulping down a date whole, then narrowed her eyes in contentment. Feeling the food slide down her gullet into her stomach, she let out a long breath.
Ning Tian nodded instinctively at her words. Over time, Chen Ping's culinary skills had improved steadily, step by step, just like his staff techniques.
His already distinctive cooking methods and recipes, combined with his increasingly accomplished cooking skills, meant that even the dishes served by Window Eight's head chef