Reborn in Japan as a Chef God

74: Chapter 74: The Aerial Culinary Duel (Part 2) 74: Chapter 74: The Aerial Culinary Duel (Part 2) The red-haired youth was naturally the protagonist of the “Food Wars,” Xingping Chuangzhen.

It was quite strange, Xia Yu had given Feng Zhizi such a sound thrashing with her Blast Flame Cuisine, yet the original storyline was still chugging along on its predestined track.

If Xia Yu had seen the scene of Feng Zhizi visiting Xingping Restaurant, she would have definitely breathed a huge sigh of relief.

At least, the recipes concerning egg dishes that he had prepared for Sen Tian Makki wouldn’t have gone to waste in the Far Moon transfer student exam arena.

“You’re indeed a customer.”

Xingping Chuangzhen didn’t care about some Chinese Restaurant at Tokyo Ueno Station.

“Satisfying you with my cooking is precisely my job as a chef,” Xingping Chuangzhen said with strong confidence, “If the dishes I make can’t satisfy the customer, then there’s no reason for Xingping Restaurant to exist.”

A hint of mockery glinted in Feng Zhizi’s eyes.

She hadn’t laid any traps, yet Xingping Chuangzhen had already walked right into the fire.

“Can I order anything?” Feng Zhizi asked.

Xingping Chuangzhen pointed to the menu on the wall, “This is today’s menu, feel free to choose whatever you like.”

Feng Zhizi stood up and walked over.

Compared to Xia’s Chinese Restaurant, Xingping Restaurant was truly deserving of the title ‘budget-friendly’ when it came to the prices of their dishes.

From left to right:

Steak set meal, 880 yen.

Grilled meat set meal, 780 yen.

Hamburger set meal, 720 yen.

…

Feng Zhizi quickly glanced over the menu; the cheapest dishes were the fried chicken set meal, meat tofu set meal, mapo tofu set meal, and salted mackerel set meal, all priced at 650 yen.

The set meals included rice and a side dish, one order was enough to fill the stomach, unlike Xia’s shop where an ordinary home-cooked dish started at 3,000 yen, which was ridiculously frightening.

“Mapo Tofu?

Does your restaurant also make Chinese cuisine?” Feng Zhizi stared at the menu.

Xingping Chuangzhen grinned, “Of course, we make Japanese dishes, we make Western food, and we also make some Chinese cuisine.”

“Then I’ll have the mapo tofu—”

Feng Zhizi smiled as well.

“Please wait a moment,” Xingping Chuangzhen turned and walked into the open kitchen.

Feng Zhizi followed, standing outside the kitchen counter and emphasized, “Additionally, I must tell you that the chef of that Chinese Restaurant at Ueno Station is about your age.”

“But you know, I just tasted his dishes yesterday, and they are at least at the level of a main dish from an IGO three- or four-star restaurant…

Are you sure you can make a mapo tofu that will satisfy my appetite?” Feng Zhizi squinted.

Xingping Chuangzhen’s footsteps halted.

A chef about his age?

Initially, Xingping Chuangzhen thought he had misheard but what Feng Zhizi said next made his heart jump.

The level of a main dish from an IGO three- or four-star restaurant?

Xingping Chuangzhen gasped, turned around incredulously, and stared intently at Feng Zhizi’s charming face, “Are you sure?

Someone fifteen or sixteen years old can make main dishes of a three- or four-star restaurant quality?

That person must be at least an IGO Three-star Chef!”

Xingping Chuangzhen wasn’t a fool lacking common sense; he lived in this world, went to school like everyone else, and honed his culinary skills at Xingping Restaurant from a young age.

He cared about and understood more about the IGO culinary organization than the average person.

After all, IGO was a prestigious global culinary organization.

All chefs took pride in obtaining an IGO rating certificate.

Xingping Chuangzhen didn’t have an IGO certificate, because he didn’t quite understand what level his cooking skills were at.

His father, Xingping Cheng Yilang, rarely talked about the IGO organization.

Whenever Xingping Chuangzhen asked, he always got the same answer—beat me once, and then we’ll talk.

Therefore, even after losing to his father for the 489th time, Xingping Chuangzhen remained full of fighting spirit.

“Don’t underestimate me; I consider myself a gourmet,” Feng Zhizi shrugged her shoulders in response to Xingping Chuangzhen’s skepticism.

“I’ve been to countless upscale restaurants and was even invited by the IGO organization to attend the opening ceremony of their directly affiliated top-tier restaurants.”

“Change the dish, please.

You won’t be able to satisfy me with Mapo Tofu.”

“Having tasted a Chinese dish last night, my standards for Chinese cuisine have been elevated by several levels,” Feng Zhizi spoke indifferently, taking pleasure in observing Xingping Chuangzhen’s stiff expression.

A peer.

Moreover, a peer who was more exceptional than herself.

The more confident and spirited the youth, the harder it would be for them to endure being surpassed.

At least before a formal culinary showdown defeat, Feng Zhizi was sure that Xingping Chuangzhen wouldn’t easily concede.

Sure enough.

Without a word, Xingping Chuangzhen began preparing the ingredients, “You order; I cook.

Let’s see if I can satisfy you after I’ve made the dish.”

Feng Zhizi couldn’t disagree and withdrew her gaze, watching the red-haired middle-aged man who remained busy in front of the stove.

“Boss Xingping, aren’t you going to do it yourself?”

“Let Chuangzhen try first,” Xingping Cheng Yilang replied without turning around.

“I’ll be watching with interest.”

Feng Zhizi returned to her seat, where she could see Xingping Chuangzhen fetching tofu and Sichuan peppercorns from the pantry, and also preparing ginger slices and minced garlic.

Furthermore, Feng Zhizi noticed that Xingping Chuangzhen had taken a small piece of pork, minced it, and mashed it into a paste.

Before cutting the pork, he’d already sliced the tofu and soaked it in a small bowl filled with saltwater.

“Ah…” Feng Zhizi’s eyes twitched, noticing that Xingping Chuangzhen had taken out a bottle of red seasoning from the cabinet.

She couldn’t help exclaiming silently, wasn’t that the Shuchuan Bean Paste that Xia Yu used to stir-fry the Twice-cooked Pork last night?

Feng Zhizi didn’t realize that bean paste is an essential essence in many Shuchuan cuisines.

Using bean paste indicated that the Mapo Tofu Xingping Chuangzhen planned to cook was at least authentic in terms of ingredients.

With the tofu still soaking, Xingping Chuangzhen fired up the stove, quick-frying scallion and garlic in oil, then added ground meat, fermented black beans, and bean paste to stir-fry together, instantly filling the restaurant with an aromatic scent.

Feng Zhizi took a sniff, yet her expression remained very neutral.

A quarter hour later, Xingping Chuangzhen, with a white bandana wrapped around his head, served a steaming plate of Mapo Tofu.

“Please enjoy—” he untied the white bandana with a confident tone, “I have put my utmost effort into making this Mapo Tofu.

It will definitely satisfy you!”

Picking up her chopsticks, Feng Zhizi grabbed a small piece of tofu, observed the color of the dish carefully, then put it in her mouth and began to chew slowly.

The hot and spicy dish, it seemed, plunged into a sea without stirring a single wave.

Although she had anticipated it, Feng Zhizi still let out a sigh from the depths of her heart.

Ever since she returned from Xia’s shop last night and had dessert, followed by today’s breakfast and lunch, it felt like she was chewing on blank paper.

At least tree bark would have some taste, but paper definitely had none, right?

Now, the situation hadn’t changed at all.

Her tongue, even her entire mouth, was like a stagnant pool, completely unresponsive to Xingping Chuangzhen’s cooking.

Seeing Feng Zhizi’s expression while she was eating, a chill went through Xingping Chuangzhen’s heart, sensing something was amiss.

The patrons who had enjoyed his creations in the past all showed nothing but contentment and happiness.

Xingping Chuangzhen could tell that Feng Zhizi’s neutrality wasn’t feigned; it was her genuine reaction to tasting the dish.

“How could this be…”

Xingping Chuangzhen clenched the white bandana he had taken off and held in his right hand.

“I told you, I had a Chinese dish last night, and furthermore, the main theme of that dish was heat and spice, perhaps being likened to the flavor of flames would be more appropriate,” Feng Zhizi said flatly as she set aside her chopsticks.

Her words dealt a great blow to Xingping Chuangzhen.

The flavors from last night’s dish still lingered, and its aftertaste had built a strong fortification in Feng Zhizi’s mouth.

His cooking could not breach that fortification, so satisfying the customer was out of the question.