Daddy Fantasy World Restaurant

Chapter 535 - System, What Am I to you?



Mag was in full agreement with that statement. On Earth, one could purchase beef of the most premium quality as long as they had money. However, the same portion of beef yielded a completely different flavor when cooked by different chefs. It was as if the chef had injected their soul into the cut of meat, and the most important factor contributing to that disparity was the sauce.

Making the sauce is quite a technical skill as well. Mag opened the condiments box nearby to discover that almost all of the 28 slots in the box had been filled.

He did have an experience bag for making the sauce, and there were three types of flavors for him to choose from, consisting of barbeque, spicy, and garlic. However, the system didn’t give him the specific ratios of condiments that were meant to be used. Instead, terms like minute amount, small amount, moderate amount, and large amount were used.

“System, you’re not being very professional here. What’s a minute amount? And what’s a large amount? Are you trying to screw over your daddy like this?” Mag grumbled.

“Please watch your mouth! The system is not a biological being, so no ‘daddy’ exists!” The system’s stern voice sounded.

“Don’t say things in such definite terms, system. You studied Earth’s history for so long, do you know who the father of Apple is?”

“Steve Jobs.”

“Who’s the father of the hybrid rice crop?”

“Yuan Longping!”

“The Chinese father of atoms?”

“Qian Sanqiang!”

“Then do you know why they’ve been given these titles?”

“Jobs founded and developed Apple, Yuan Longping led the development of hybrid rice crop plantation, and Qian Sanqiang made significant contributions to Chinese nuclear technology.”

“System, you were created by me when I transmigrated to this world. Going by the aforementioned logic, tell me who your daddy is!”

“Dad... No! Don’t try to distort concepts like this! It’s not the same thing!” The system’s voice was trembling with rage.

“You said everything yourself.” Mag shrugged with a hint of a smile on his face. “As a candidate to become the God of Cookery, it’s imperative that you master the creation of all types of condiments. In order to develop this skill, the system has intentionally neglected to include specific ratios for condiment recipes. If you want to make the perfect sauce, you’ll have to develop a greater understanding of all the condiments, then find a balance between them. That is a skill that a professional chef should possess.” The system calmed itself down before getting back on track.

Looks like I’ll have to use up all of my time in here before I can get out. Mag glanced up at the wall, only to find that more than 10 days had passed. Just killing the cow had taken him such a long time, and creating condiments was undoubtedly going to take even longer.

However, Mag didn’t argue with the system, as he knew that this was indeed a very good opportunity to hone his skills.

He was still very much a learner when it came to the world of cooking, and the experience bags bestowed upon him by the system had allowed him to take many shortcuts. However, if he were asked to create a new dish of the same standard from scratch, that would be something far beyond him.

His grasp of ingredients and condiments was likely to be inferior even to that of a stay-at-home wife who cooked every day.

Now, the system was forcing him to learn about these areas, thereby essentially throwing him into the deep end.

In the face of this challenging task, fighting spirit was already burning in Mag’s heart. Only through constant learning and refinement would he be able to create delicious cuisine that he could truly call his own, and only then would he be worthy of the title of God of Cookery.

The barbeque, spicy, and garlic flavors required completely different combinations of condiments. Mag began to focus on understanding the properties of each condiment, and then began experimenting with what certain condiments tasted like in conjunction with others.

The experience bag had pointed out a direction for him, so all Mag had to do was to figure out the ratios to create the perfect sauce.

The first batches of sauce that Mag created were absolutely horrendous. Thus, he began a process of constant trial and error.

Even though he was greeted by repetitive failure, he was not discouraged as a result. Instead, he carefully thought about what he had done wrong before moving on to the next attempt.

The first sauce that obtained the system’s approval was the barbeque flavor sauce. With that experience, Mag was able to quickly create spicy and garlic sauces of the same standard. The three sauces all presented different flavors, and Mag was really looking forward to seeing how they would taste on kebabs.

Following the completion of the sauces, another month had passed, leaving Mag with not a lot of time left.

He pulled out a knife from the holder, and sliced the rib-eye beef into two-centimeter cubes. He then began to rub the sauce into the beef.

After marinating the beef, it was put onto bamboo skewers that were around 20 centimeters in length, with five cubes of beef per skewer. These skewers were then placed aside to be cooked.

There was a rectangular oven waiting for him in the left corner of the kitchen, with red-hot coals burning within. Mag tested the temperature with his hand before shaking his head. He waited a while longer before placing five kebabs into the oven at once.

“Sizzle-“

The beef kebabs immediately produced a delightful sizzling sound as they were placed into the oven. Oil began to bubble and flow from the marbled beef, and the delicious scent of beef began to waft throughout the kitchen.

The beef slowly darkened, and its scent began to mature.

When the beef was cooked to around medium well, Mag picked up a brush, and applied the sauce to the kebabs.

The beef began to sizzle again after being placed back into the oven, and the scent wafting through the air became even more alluring.

Amy would really like this, right? Mag’s eyes lit up as that thought occurred to him.


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