Song Shi'an handed the extra portion to Ricardo: "You should try some too."
Ricardo smiled and took the tray, carefully placing it on the cart. "Thank you, Mr. Pei. Please enjoy your meal. I'll be leaving now."
Pei Zhiyan nodded.
As soon as the door to the private room closed, Jiang Ye pounced on the dining table like a hyena possessed.
He swung his chopsticks so fast they were almost blurry, shoved a mouthful of food into his mouth, his eyes wide open, too busy to speak, just giving a thumbs up.
Then he picked up another bite with his chopsticks, gave another thumbs-up, and acted like a nodding machine activated by the food.
Song Shi'an also picked up a piece with his chopsticks.
The difference is just that with top-quality ingredients. The texture of the beef melts on your tongue, and the aroma of truffles wafts out of your nostrils. He was stunned for a moment.
Chi Xun in his food, occasionally glancing up to push up his glasses, which were fogged up by the heat, and mumbled "Amazing," before lowering his head again to continue devouring the food.
Ricardo returned to the kitchen and placed the plates on the worktable.
Under the warm yellow light, the dish looked beautiful in both color and presentation, so he took out his phone and snapped a picture.
Based on his thirty years of professional experience, this dish is at least Michelin one-star or higher.
He picked up his fork and, with the air of a professional connoisseur, took a bite.
The fork stopped in mid-air.
He took another bite.
Something's not right. Is this the level of skill from mainland China? A young man who looks to be under twenty, doing this amateurishly and casually, is better than all the apprentices he's ever mentored.
The mainland is indeed full of hidden talents. He won so many awards in Italy, and after only staying here for half a year, this is the first time he has tasted such delicious Sino-Italian fusion cuisine.
He opened Instagram, uploaded the photos he had just taken, and added a short English caption of a few hundred words.
Roughly translated: This is the first time I've tasted such amazing delicious food since coming to mainland China. The dish was made by a young, amateur mainland boy. If I closed my eyes, I would have thought it was the work of a Michelin three-star chef. But when I opened my eyes, I saw an angelic child standing in front of the stove. I have to admit, he's the most beautiful person I've ever seen—a beauty that transcends borders. Today is another day I've been awestruck by a mainland Chinese chef...
Ricardo has over five million followers on Instagram and is famous both domestically and internationally. He has won numerous awards and his popularity has soared even higher after being poached by Pei Group with a high salary.
If a dish can be praised as delicious by this notoriously picky Italy chef, it must truly be delicious.
The comment section quickly filled with comments.
1L: It looks delicious, but when will we be able to eat it in mainland China?
2L: It's awful to see this in the middle of the night. I didn't get to eat it, so I'm giving it a bad review.
3L: An angelic boy? And he cooks incredibly well too! Oh~ what an amazing combination!
4L: Does the mainland have good food too? I've heard it's a culinary superpower. Is this the restaurant where you work now?
5L: Same question. I'm planning a trip in a few days, and I'll finally get to eat Ricardo's food.
6L: Am I the only one curious about what that boy, who's called an angel, looks like? Is he mixed race?
7L: The last time Ricardo praised someone like that was five years ago.
8L: LOL, Ricardo: I've wasted thirty years of my life, Angel Boy: I'm just an amateur.
9L: Beauty knows no borders!! Ricardo, it seems your taste has changed a lot. You said you weren't good-looking when I introduced you to that male model last time.
10L: I'm already imagining that description.
27L: Have you ever considered the possibility that the boy Ricardo was talking about was the new dishwasher at the restaurant? And that the dishwasher was actually Michelin chef whose talent was overshadowed by his culinary skills?
28L: Are you writing a novel upstairs? Here's your pen, keep writing.
58L: An Italy complimented a China boy in English, and then a bunch of China people in the comments section chatted about food in Chinese. What a great unity of the world!
59L: Just wondering, do I need to wear formal attire to this restaurant? Are shorts and flip-flops allowed?
60L: Wake up, upstairs, look at the average person's height before you speak.
378L: I've guessed all the famous chefs in China, so who is it?! Unless Ricardo has bad eyesight, I don't see anyone worthy of an angel!!!
Jiang Ye finished three bowls of rice. Pei Zhiyan, holding a teacup, glanced back and forth between the rice bowl in Jiang Ye's hand and the few remaining dishes on the table.
He had seen many strange combinations, but Jiang Ye was the first to eat Italy fusion cuisine with rice.
Looking at the empty plates on the table, Song Shi'an was very satisfied. The greatest sense of accomplishment for a chef is seeing diners finish all the food.
Chi Xun lifted his head from the bowl, let out a burp, and said with a pained yet happy expression, " Shi'an, where did you learn to cook like this? I'm already stuffed, and I even had another bowl with tears in my eyes."
Song Shi'an lied through his teeth without batting an eye. "I learned it while working."
Jiang Ye put down his chopsticks, leaned back in his chair, and patted his round belly. "Your chef is amazing. Ricardo is a world-renowned chef. Although his food is delicious, yours is absolutely incredible. I don't even know what words to use to describe it."
He was too embarrassed to say it, but if there hadn't been a waiter in the private room, he would have loved to pick up the plate and lick every last drop of soup off it.
He could easily eat three more bowls of rice with the sauce from that red wine braised beef.
Song Shi'an put down his chopsticks. "You guys eat, I can't eat anymore, I'm going to the restroom."
He stood up, opened the door, and went out. The corridor was covered with a thick carpet, and the walls on both sides were hung with abstract paintings that he couldn't understand. The lighting was dim and ambiguous.
Where's the restroom? For someone with a terrible sense of direction, this place is like a maze; it took two turns to finally find the restroom sign.
Just as I was about to enter the restroom, I bumped into someone.
Song Shi'an subconsciously took a half step back. "Excuse me, are you alright?"
Cao Wanlong had drunk quite a bit with clients tonight and was walking towards the restroom in a daze when someone bumped into him. He was about to curse when he looked up and the words caught in his throat.
The face in front of him instantly sobered him up by a third.
"It's nothing, it's nothing. You look familiar, young man."
Song Shi'an was taken aback. "No way," he thought, "People can recognize me like this!" He remained calm and said, "You've mistaken me for someone else. If there's nothing else, I'll be going now."
He had barely taken a step when the other person reached out and stopped him.
Emboldened by the alcohol, Cao Wanlong leaned forward, his face contorted into a wide grin. "We didn't know each other before, but now we do, don't we? Want to come to our private room for a drink? We'll open a bottle of good wine for you."
Song Shi'an frowned. What was this guy mumbling about? He needed to use the restroom!