Chapter 1458: The Tastier the Chicken Beak Soup, the Greater the Tragedy of Its Characters! Dundun the TV Fan!

Chapter 1458 -567: The Tastier the Chicken Beak Soup, the Greater the Tragedy of Its Characters! Dundun the TV Fan!

This is actually like deboning chicken feet; the difficulty is there, but it’s not that great, and cooking them a bit and then cooling them down makes the bones and skin separate, making them easier to remove.

Using a knife, the deboned chicken wingtips are sliced open and then finely shredded.

This step is quite risky, as the cooked chicken wingtips are slippery, and the shredded pieces are relatively thin, making it easy to cut your hand if not careful.

However, with Lin Xu’s knife skills, he’s not afraid of the knife slipping.

Once finely shredded, the pieces are rinsed in hot water to remove impurities and excess fat and then immediately placed in cold water to prevent the chicken skin from becoming soggy in the hot water.

Furthermore, soaking them in cold water after the hot water bath makes the shredded chicken wings more tender and chewy, enhancing their flavor.

While waiting, Lin Xu sets up a frying pan, adds chicken soup, and boils it on high heat.

He also mixes some potato starch with water, which will be used for thickening.

Soon, once the chicken soup boils, Lin Xu scoops out the shredded chicken wingtips, drains them, and adds them to the pot for simmering. Then, he adds salt and pepper to layer the base flavor.

Next, he drizzles in some vinegar and lets it simmer again before adding the starch water.

The sour and spicy aroma fills the air, and Lin Xu feels it’s quite appetizing, at least from the smell.

Just before taking the pot off the stove, he ladles in some chicken oil.

He mixes it well, pours it into a soup bowl, and garnishes it with a few cilantro leaves for that finishing touch.

The crystal-clear soup, with strands of translucent chicken wings, enhanced by the fresh, sour, and spicy flavor, does indeed awaken one’s appetite.

After serving a bowl, Lin Xu also ladles out a large half-bowl each for Shen Jiayue and Chen Yan.

Uncertain whether they’d like it, he didn’t dare serve too much.

As for the rest, he leaves it in the pot for anyone who wishes to have more.

He brings out the two bowls of soup, and Chen Yan, who was touching up her makeup with a small mirror, is immediately drawn by the tangy scent of vinegar and pepper:

“What is this? Luocheng Banquet?”

Lin Xu smiles:

“This is chicken beak soup, a simple recipe. You both should try it; there’s another bowl in the kitchen. I’ll send it upstairs.”

This soup doesn’t seem extraordinary; it’s the tragic element infused in the novel that stands out. Think of Sun Xue’e who, from her introduction, prepares various delicious dishes but meets her end with them, it’s truly tragic.

Chen Yan tastes it with a spoon, mumbling to herself:

“This is quite tasty. Sun Xue’e’s death was unjust. Nowadays, she would at the very least be an executive chef at a grand hotel.”

In the book, Sun Xue’e manages the kitchen at Ximen Qing’s house, organizing banquets impeccably for both imperial guests and Ximen’s wild exploits with friends.

She handles everything almost single-handedly, a talent unparalleled even among top hotel executive chefs.

Thinking about this, Chen Yan couldn’t help but murmur:

“Feudal systems were devastating!”

Shen Jiayue, less sentimental, cradles her small bowl, blows it slightly, and takes a tiny sip:

“Wow, this is delicious, the sour and spicy flavor is fresh, and these fine strips have a nice texture, very chewy and tender.”

The chicken skin, heated and cooled twice, gains a slippery, unique texture, perfectly complementing the fresh, sour, and spicy flavor.

Upstairs.

When Lin Xu brings in the chicken beak soup, the professors and scholars, deep in conversation, pause and all turn their eyes to the soup bowl.

Is this renowned dish debated for centuries finally going to be tasted?

As Lin Xu places the soup on the table, everyone stares but hesitates to move their chopsticks.

“The chicken beak soup is ready. Please have a taste.”

Geng Lishan says:

“I feel hesitant. Tasting this soup brings to mind Sun Xue’e…but let’s try it, using chicken beak soup to honor this tragic woman.”

Although Sun Xue’e is a fictional character, the author’s skill has left people sympathizing with her centuries later.

Everyone ladles themselves a small bowl.

After tasting a spoonful, they all fall silent.

After a long pause, Ren Chongmo sighs:

“Sun Xue’e, what an unjust death!”

It’s such a delicious soup, yet Chun Mei found it unpleasant and used it against someone. The more you think about the plot in the book, the more you feel Sun Xue’e’s fate was undeserved.

Cui Qingyuan takes two bites.

He snaps a photo of the bowl in front of him and uploads it to his social media:

“Had the opportunity to taste Owner Lin’s chicken beak soup. The broth is clear and the taste is great, but it leaves a heavy heart. Such is the power of literature; even centuries later, one feels empathy for a character in a book.”

He doesn’t mention Jin Ping Mei or Sun Xue’e.

But soon, like a little adult, Geng Lele comments beneath:

“Read healthier books!”

Yan Lin gives a thumbs up and comments:

“Is there really chicken beak soup? I must try it next time I’m in Beijing. I’ve been curious for a long time.”

Lin Xu, sitting near the door, somewhat regrets making the chicken beak soup because he hadn’t anticipated it would leave everyone so emotionally moved.

At that moment, Shu Yun knocks, opens the private room door, and walks in holding a tray of rabbit-shaped snacks, smiling at everyone:

“Our chef Master Niu personally made these rabbit pastries using a dough of glutinous rice flour on the outside, filled with red bean paste, and sprinkled a bit of milk powder on top. Please try them, professors.”