Chapter 287 - 134: The Suited Brutal Chef’s Delicious Food Truck

Chapter 287: Chapter 134: The Suited Brutal Chef’s Delicious Food Truck

Ling Shuyu gave an approving look. "I think that could work."

"Absolutely! Nothing wrong with that idea!"

Zhang the Second leaned back nonchalantly in the car. "Still, President Ling should go pick him up. He’s the boss, after all. It’s not too much for him to ride in a Mercedes."

"OK!" Ling Shuyu made a cool hand gesture. "You guys contact the boss. I’ll go drive and pick him up right now!"

Bai Xiaobo stood dumbfounded beside the food cart.

There was no longer any place for him in this food cart.

’Eating my ice cream and then pinning all the blame on me? How could you guys do that?’

...

When Su Chen was picked up from the company, he was, deep down, completely against the idea.

’What the hell, I don’t have any clothes for this!’

’Who wears a suit to run a street stall?’

’Oh, right. And I arrived in a Mercedes.’

’If someone wrote a novel about this, should the title be *My Employees Are All Second-Generation Tycoons*?’

Stepping out of the Mercedes, Su Chen stared at the utterly ridiculous-looking food cart.

’Just what kind of moronic employees would think of using something like this to sell food?’

"Boss, please help Bai Xiaobo out! If you hadn’t come, we really wouldn’t know what to do!"

Su Chen glanced at Zhang Li.

’Yeah, terrible acting.’

’You guys obviously just wanted to mess around since you’re on vacation, but you’re pinning it all on Bai Xiaobo?’

’If you want to play, then play. But why can’t you leave me in peace?’

Of course, that wasn’t all Su Chen was thinking.

Earlier that day, Liu Shengnan had mentioned to him that if he wanted to use this time to sell his food, he could set up a street stall.

But the problem was...

Su Chen sighed.

He had been practicing in the training room for a long, long time, whether it was the Stir-Fried Yellow Beef or other home-style dishes.

All of them could only be rated as: A Level.

His Peak of Flavor ability could no longer detect any flaws in these dishes. If it weren’t for the system’s rating, Su Chen would have believed they all met the S Class standard.

But the system’s evaluation was so jarring it was impossible to ignore.

’So the food I sell today probably won’t count toward my mission at all.’

He stepped into the food cart. The interior layout was surprisingly decent.

Neatly arranged spice containers, a workstation wiped spotlessly clean, and thoroughly washed ingredients wrapped in plastic film.

You could tell at a glance that only an experienced chef could have prepared things so meticulously.

The only slight drawback was...

"Boss, these food carts don’t come with a high-intensity stove. Can you get used to this home-style one?" Zhang Heping asked, also a little uncertain.

Some chefs learn their trade in restaurants, so high-intensity stoves are their bread and butter.

Once they switch to a different stove, they basically forget how to cook.

The most typical example is that one internet chef who claims to teach home cooking but actually uses a roaring flame and a vat of oil every single time!

It’s enough to scare anyone off right from the get-go, isn’t it?

When a chef like that switches to a home stove, it’s like they’ve lost half their skills.

Su Chen thought for a moment. "It should be fine."

He turned on the burner and adjusted the gas valve. It was a typical home stove with three flame rings—inner, middle, and outer.

"So, shall we get started?" Zhang the Second asked, growing curious about what would happen next.

Liu Shengnan leaned in. "Boss, we haven’t set a price yet! We only prepared beef today—just the ingredients you asked for this morning!"

’Heh, what a bunch of little schemers.’

’As for the Stir-Fried Yellow Beef...’

Su Chen considered. The beef he sourced was already thirty percent more expensive than market price; the tenderloin sold for 90 yuan per 500 grams.

Based on the portions he made in the practice room, one serving of Stir-Fried Yellow Beef required about 100 grams of meat.

In other words, including vegetables, the cost per dish came out to around 25 yuan.

"Today’s dish is Stir-Fried Yellow Beef. Let’s set the price at 48 yuan."

That was nearly double the cost for profit.

After all, a street stall has no rent, so pricing it any higher wouldn’t be appropriate.

"You got it!" Zhang Li pulled a small blackboard out of nowhere and used a fluorescent marker to write on it in a cute, cartoonish script.

[Today’s Special]

[Stir-Fried Yellow Beef: 48 yuan/serving]

"I’ll get the rice steaming, then!" Zhang Heping moved to the other side of the workstation, where an electric steamer was set up.

In truth, it wasn’t that Su Chen was afraid to run a stall.

It’s just that here in Jingzhou, selling stir-fry dishes from a street stall was a very odd thing to do.

Back when he was a streamer, Su Chen had noticed this regional difference. In the south, there were tons of roadside stalls where the owner would display a wide variety of ingredients on a table.

Customers would just arrive, point out which ingredients they wanted, and anything and everything could be stir-fried for them!

There was another kind of small stall, often found at night markets, that made seafood-based snacks to go with beer.

But in the north, especially the Northwest, these kinds of stalls didn’t exist.

All the street stalls there sold almost exclusively snacks: stinky tofu, grilled squid, duck intestines.

This was mainly because the climate and air quality in the Northwest aren’t great. Imagine waiting by the road for a fragrant plate of stir-fry when a sudden gale sweeps through... laced with sand and dirt.

The image is so beautiful it’s hard to even imagine.

Furthermore, in many cities in the Northwest, stir-fried dishes are considered part of a "proper meal."

A proper meal is something you eat sitting at a table; eating it by the side of the road just feels half-hearted and careless.

Fortunately, Jingzhou’s climate in August was very pleasant, and the air quality here at the Botanical Garden was excellent.

As Zhang Li hung the sign on the outside of the food cart, she also plugged in its power cord.

The little blackboard instantly became a flashy, gaudy spectacle.

Not only was the writing fluorescent, but it also fucking changed colors!