These spices, with their strong exotic flavors, were piled up like a small mountain in the white preparation dish.
On the cutting board next to it, several thick slices of ginger were already prepared.
Ten minutes later, the frozen meat in the sink had thawed to a point where it could be cut with a knife.
Su Wei pulled out the kitchen knife with a backhand motion.
The thick blade pressed directly onto the beef tendon, and the wrist, using the strength of the waist, pressed down sharply.
The blade cleanly and efficiently severed the extremely stubborn connective tissue, producing a satisfying snapping sound.
He swiftly chopped over twenty pounds of low-quality beef into uniform cubes the size of mahjong tiles with incredible speed.
They were then all swept into a large pot of cold water.
The gas stove ignited with a snap, and blue flames fiercely burned the bottom of the pot.
As the water boiled, large amounts of grayish-brown blood foam surged to the surface.
The air was immediately filled with the distinctive, raw, fishy smell of beef.
The Cotton Candy, who had been dozing on the sofa, was awakened by this unpleasant smell.
Its small nose wrinkled, it let out a soft protest, and buried its head in its large tail.
"Be patient, the best is yet to come."
Su Wei chuckled, skillfully scooped out the meat chunks, rinsed off the surface scum under warm water, and placed them in a large colander to drain.
Now, the real highlight begins.
Su Wei replaced the pot with an extra-large heavy-duty cast iron pot that could hold enough ingredients for twenty people.
Turn the knob all the way to the maximum, and the fierce heat will cause the bottom of the pot to rise with a faint layer of blue smoke.
He picked up a bowl of pure white fat cut into small cubes from beside the cutting board.
That was pure back fat scraped off bit by bit with a knife yesterday when processing the huge brown bear pelt.
The moment the bear fat fell into the scalding cast iron pot, a sharp, sizzling sound suddenly erupted.
The white fat mass rapidly shrank under the extremely high temperature, turning into a pool of pure, golden, scalding hot liquid.
An extremely rich, domineering, and even wildly conquering aroma of oil instantly filled the entire kitchen.
The Cotton Candy, who had initially disliked the fishy smell, immediately bounced up from the sofa.
It swished its big, fluffy tail and took small, quick steps to the kitchen counter.
With its little head tilted back, its one blue and one heterochromatic eye were fixed on the stove, and it was almost drooling.
Su Wei grabbed a handful of rock sugar and poured it into the boiling bear oil, then began stirring it at a very high frequency with a long-handled wooden spatula.
Rock sugar granules melt rapidly at high temperatures.
The color of the syrup changed dramatically at a speed visible to the naked eye.
It changes from transparent to light yellow, then deepens from light yellow to deep amber, until a layer of extremely dense reddish-brown fine bubbles appears on the surface.
Just as the foam reached its maximum expansion point and was about to emit a bitter, burnt smell...
Su Wei picked up the colander and poured all twenty-odd pounds of drained beef chunks into the pot!
A violent explosion of oil splattering erupted.
The wooden shovel flipped rapidly with a flick of Su Wei's wrist.
The scalding hot caramel syrup quickly and evenly coated each piece of dull beef.
It instantly coated them with an extremely alluring bright red color.
This is precisely the Maillard reaction accelerator at the heart of Chinese braising – caramelizing sugar.
Immediately afterwards, he slammed the pile of star anise, cinnamon, bay leaves, and thick slices of ginger from the preparation plate into the boiling oil.
The volatile oils hidden inside the dried spices exploded completely the moment they were exposed to the high temperature of 100 degrees Celsius.
A rich, almost tangible, complex aroma soared into the sky!
It lacks the mild, sweet, and creamy aroma of Western butter, possessing only the unique spiciness, assertiveness, and penetrating power of Eastern spices.
The range hood overhead was running at full power, making a roaring sound as it desperately devoured the rising white steam.
However, the smell was so strong that most of the aroma bypassed the range hood's defenses.
Following the cracks in the wooden cabin's door and through the ventilation pipes, it surged unstoppably towards the frigid wilderness outside, where temperatures plummeted to minus fifteen degrees Celsius.
The temperature inside the pot was approaching its maximum. Su Wei grabbed a bottle of aged soy sauce and poured it in a circular motion along the edge of the scalding pot.
Since he didn't have any cooking wine on hand, he grabbed a bottle of cheap Russian vodka and poured out most of it.
The moment the strong liquor touched the hot pot wall, there was a muffled boom, and a fierce orange flame leaped inside the pot for a moment.
The rich, savory aroma of soy sauce blends perfectly with the esterified aroma resulting from the evaporation of high levels of alcohol at this moment.
This created a third, devastating odor storm.
The entire kitchen was filled with white, hot steam.
Su Wei stood in the steam and stir-fried for two minutes to ensure that every piece of meat absorbed the complex aroma, then decisively turned off the heat.
He picked up the heavy cast iron pot and transferred all the ingredients, coated in rich, dark sauce and exuding an irresistible allure, into a huge commercial pressure cooker next to him.
Then, a full ten pounds of chopped yellow potatoes and carrots were placed on top.
Pour in boiling water until it just covers the ingredients, then cover with a heavy metal lid.
He gripped the safety valve tightly with both hands and restarted the engine.
A few minutes later, the pressure cooker's top valve began to spin wildly, emitting a sharp hissing sound as thick white steam billowed up to the roof.
Su Wei turned down the heat and entered the most crucial simmering stage.
Meanwhile, in a large aluminum pot on the other side of the counter, eight pounds of high-quality white rice were bubbling in boiling water, emitting a pure and comforting sweet aroma of starch.
Time flew by and it was already 1:15 PM.
Outside, a biting wind, carrying snow, swept across the newly poured concrete foundation of the exhibition hall.
Twelve burly men, dressed in heavy winter coats, were huddled in twos and threes on an insulated board, painfully dealing with their hard lunches.
Young Luke was holding a cold, hard piece of bread, about to take a bite, when his movement suddenly froze in mid-air.
His nostrils twitched violently twice as he forcefully inhaled a large gulp of icy, bone-chilling air.
Then, he suddenly turned his head to look at his old coworker beside him, his voice clearly choked with swallowing.
"Good heavens... can you smell it?"
A strange smell, unlike anything they had ever encountered before, was drifting in from the direction of the wooden house.
The aroma is a blend of the subtle sweetness of caramel, the peculiar spiciness of an unidentified vanilla, and the rich, top-quality aroma of some extremely heavy animal fat that has been deep-fried at high temperatures.
This smell directly broke through the olfactory defenses of these workers who spent their days surrounded by cement and cold canned goods.
They were used to the ruggedness of American food, like grilled pork chops, fried chicken, and hamburgers.
The best option would be to go to a restaurant in town on payday and have a bloody steak.
But the simple flavor of black pepper and sea salt becomes instantly bland in the face of this complex aroma that is full of layers and domineering.
Luke's salivary glands completely lost control, and saliva was being secreted continuously.
Matt, who was sitting a little further away, suddenly stood up.
He glanced down at the half-eaten, frozen bread in his hand, containing only a slice of cheap bacon, and a resolute glint flashed in his eyes.
Without the slightest hesitation, the old-fashioned foreman casually tossed the half-bread into a nearby snowdrift.
He strode forward and headed straight for the large, windproof window of the wooden house.
Upon seeing this, the remaining eleven workers immediately seemed to have received some kind of pardon and dropped their unpalatable cold meals.
The heavy work boots crunched and groaned on the snow.
Twelve burly men silently gathered outside the window.
They dared not push the door open, fearing that even a wisp of cold air might interrupt the magician's cooking process inside.
A group of Alaska giants, whose combined weight exceeded one ton, were hunching over, peering longingly through the frost-covered glass.
Listening to the hissing sound of the pressure cooker valve turning, no one in the crowd spoke.
On the quiet snow, only the distinct, gurgling sounds of swallowing saliva could be heard.
For Matt and his team, who were standing in the freezing cold of minus fifteen degrees Celsius, the forty-minute simmering was even longer and more unbearable than carrying cement bags for eight hours straight.
The moment the sharp hissing sound of the pressure cooker releasing steam finally stopped, everyone involuntarily held their breath.
Squeak
The heavy oak door was pushed open from the inside.
The intense indoor heat collided violently with the cold outdoor air, creating a huge cloud of white mist.
Su Wei carried the enormous stainless steel basin, which was so heavy it would take two people to lift it, and stepped steadily across the threshold.
With a clatter, the iron basin was placed heavily on the long, rough wooden table by the door, which was used to store building materials.