"Two, please. Brother, how do you roast this beggar's chicken? Can I take a look?"
This "big brother" left Lin Zhou speechless.
This is the first time I've ever heard this term since I started my stall.
"Can."
Lin Zhou nodded, walked over and lifted the stove lid, and flipped the beggar's chicken on the bottom layer.
Then rows of round, rolling mud balls appeared in the eyes of the man on the roadside.
The mud balls, roughly the same size, make my mouth water just thinking about the chickens inside.
After being roasted for a long time, the surface of the mud has been completely dried.
As soon as the lid was lifted, a strong aroma of wine wafted out.
I couldn't smell any chicken; it just smelled of mud and alcohol, which was quite peculiar.
The locals have never seen this thing before.
"I didn't expect it to be beggar's chicken. I thought it was roasted sweet potato."
When he first saw the owner, he thought he was a new roasted sweet potato grandpa who wasn't very good at it and had even roasted himself black.
Then I asked around and found out it was beggar's chicken, and the owner sounded quite young.
He's not an old man, he's a big brother.
It's actually quite fun.
Lin Zhou didn't know how to answer.
Seeing this, everyone else became much quieter.
Now all I could do was stand to the side and give a quiet reply.
"I've never had beggar's chicken before, so I've never made it."
The older brother was very curious about the mud balls in the stove.
Watching Lin Zhou turn them over one by one, he couldn't help but ask.
"Just buy fresh chicken, marinate it until flavorful, then wrap it in lotus leaves, coat it with mud, and roast it until cooked."
Lin Zhou's words were simple, but they gave the elder brother the illusion that he could do the same.
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