Universe Infinite Canteen

Lele looked around and indeed found that Old Wang was not in the kitchen, and there was no one else around.

Internally, she began to waver again. Could it be that Boss Ma really had some hidden talents, appearing to be a gentleman who "doesn't deign to touch spring water," but was actually a formidable chef?

As she pondered this, Ma Lu had already brought the bag of potatoes to the sink and started to wash them.

While washing them, he stretched his neck out to look around.

"What are you looking for?"

"A peeler," Ma Lu said. "Don't you need to peel the potatoes after washing them?"

Although he had never cooked before, he still knew that much, so he started looking for a peeler in advance. Unfortunately, he couldn't find one.

"Uh, Uncle Wang probably doesn't use a peeler," Ma Youyou reminded him. "So the kitchen probably isn't equipped with one either."

"Really?" Ma Lu recalled and indeed, he never saw Old Wang use a peeler. "Then how does he peel them?"

"Just... with a kitchen knife, I guess," He Xiaoqian said. "I think that's what chefs on TV do."

"......"

Listening to such a conversation, Lele felt a surge of frustration and was embarrassed by her previous wavering.

This guy must have hardly ever set foot in a kitchen, probably the kind who couldn't even properly make scrambled eggs with tomatoes.
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She took a deep breath and said to Sun He beside her, "Mr. Sun, there's no need to keep watching."

Sun He also felt Ma Lu was being a bit too ridiculous, but he was more patient than Lele, "Since we're already here, let's have some shredded potatoes before we leave."

"Right now, I'm worried whether this guy can even cook the potatoes properly, without having to send us all to the hospital."

Ma Lu ignored Lele's sarcastic comments, picked up a clean potato, and walked over to the knife rack.

There were more than a dozen knives on the rack.

There were Chinese, Western, and Japanese ones, for chopping bones, slicing, and even ceramic knives—Ma Lu randomly pulled out two, weighed them, feeling that neither was as handy as his own chef's knife.

Thus, he hid his knife behind his clothing and summoned his Chef's Knife.

When Ma Lu took out his knife, Lele was stunned for a moment, "You keep your knife on you?"

"I'm a chef, you know. Isn't it pretty normal to carry around my tools for eating?"

It wasn't that. "Don't you take the subway or fly on planes?" Lele really wanted to make that remark, but she held back.

Afterward, she watched as Ma Lu began to peel the potato.

The first cut was off.

The second cut, and the poor potato nearly met its demise at the waist.

With the third cut, things finally went back to normal, peeling off a small piece of skin. By the fourth cut, Ma Lu's motions started to accelerate, becoming more proficient, and he finished peeling a whole potato in less than ten seconds.

Not a great accomplishment, but not too bad either.

After peeling, Ma Lu placed the potato on the chopping board and began slicing.

Just looking at his posture made Lele frown. Ma Lu was standing too close to the cutting board, which could affect the force in his hands.

The correct stance should be keeping one's abdomen about a fist's distance from the cutting board while the two are aligned in a straight line.

Moreover, his knife-handling technique was wrong. All five fingers were gripping the handle, which, while secure, made it difficult to precisely control the direction.

This kind of grip was more suitable for chopping people rather than vegetables. The appropriate grip for a Chinese chef's knife involved separating two fingers to rest against both sides of the knife.

Not to mention Ma Lu's arms were very tense, almost stretched into a straight line.

And his left hand pressing down on the potato was simply defying the heavens, his fingers just casually resting on top of the potato.

This posture was very prone to injury; the standard method should be to tuck the fingers away and use the knuckles to brace against the knife blade.

Indeed… was he an outsider?

Lele felt she had seen through Ma Lu's true colors, but the next moment, she heard Sun He beside her let out a small exclamation of surprise.

Despite Ma Lu's awkward posture, he was surprisingly quick at cutting potatoes.

The chef's knife danced and flipped along with his arm movements, as precise as a sophisticated instrument.

And unlike other chefs, Ma Lu's left hand was simply holding the potato in place, relying entirely on his right hand to do the work.

Yet the knife always managed to precisely avoid his fingers, and after finishing the surrounding potatoes, the knife's tip turned and he even started slicing the potato beneath his palm horizontally.

Is that even possible? Lele's eyes widened in disbelief.

Soon, Ma Lu had cut all the potatoes into evenly thick slices.

Then he simply withdrew his left hand and began slicing the potato slices on the cutting board with just one hand.

While cutting, he even asked He Xiaoqian, "What's next? Should I throw them into the wok and stir-fry them?"

"No, no, I remember that potato strips need to be washed first, to remove the starch, which will improve the texture."

He Xiaoqian had often helped her mother in the kitchen back at home and now that she rented her own place, she still knew how to cook.

However, with two professionals on-site, she felt somewhat uncertain, afraid that she might say something wrong, so her eyes were always on Lele and Sun He.

Seeing no objections from them, she finally let out a sigh of relief.

"I see." While still cutting vegetables, Ma Lu turned and took a washing basin from the shelf.

Lele watched, grinding her teeth—was this guy showing off on purpose?

Damn it! The worst part was that she was really falling for his act!

Not looking at the ingredients while chopping was something many skilled chefs could achieve, but talking while doing it, and having the other hand busy with something else… that was impressive.

No, not just impressive, it was really impressive!

Because if you tried to draw a square with one hand and a circle with another, you would understand how difficult multitasking was.

Moreover, the potato strips Ma Lu cut were neither too wide nor too narrow, all uniform in size, between 1.2-1.4mm, exactly the right thickness for making hot and sour potato strips.

When all the potato strips were done, Ma Lu scooped them up with the chef's knife and dumped them into the washing basin.

Then he put down the chef's knife, turned on the tap, and started soaking the potato strips.

Next, he began to peel garlic, but became clumsy again; he struggled several times without getting the garlic skin off.

Lele wasn't fooled this time, though; she realized that some people do it on purpose, pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger, possibly to get back at her initial skepticism.

It's said that the older ginger is the hotter, and perhaps Mr. Sun stayed and insisted on eating the potato strips because he sensed something.

In comparison, she was too young, actually fooled by that guy's poor acting skills, thinking he really was just an outsider who didn't know anything.

In the end, Ma Lu, pretending to be a newbie, had played her like a fiddle several times over, secretly enjoying the spectacle of her embarrassment and awkwardness. He probably found it extremely amusing.

As she thought of this, Lele couldn't help but feel her teeth itch with irritation.

What an annoying guy.

However, at this moment, Ma Lu was not rejoicing inside; he just felt that peeling this damn garlic skin was ridiculously difficult, wondering if the restaurant should hire someone specifically to peel garlic and relieve some of Old Wang's pressure.

It was He Xiaoqian, who was again the most considerate, reminding him, "Boss, you can crush the garlic with the knife a bit before peeling it; it'll be much easier to peel."