The next day at eleven o'clock in the morning.
Gu Luogang brought the last plate of sweet and sour pork ribs to the table at home. Xiaoman and Shuling pestered him and praised him, saying, "Brother, your cooking skills have improved again." While they were fighting for the food, he walked out of the house alone.
The sun was shining brightly outside, shining golden light on the bluestone pavement of the snack street.
In the middle of the snack street, there were groups of people queuing in front of other stalls, but the multi-grain pancake stall on the corner was completely empty. The bottles of noodle sauce and pots of chopped green onions placed next to it all looked deserted and had hardly been touched.
When Gu Luo stopped, the sunlight was shining on the face of the stall owner - he was a man in his thirties, with a shaggy half-inch hair, strong forehead lines, a tightly drawn jawline, and a face that had the kind of firmness that never softened over the years. The zipper of his gray jacket was zipped up high, but the cuffs were rolled up, revealing the strong muscle lines on his forearms.
Anyway, he doesn't look like someone who has been guarding a pancake stall all year round.
"Handsome guy, would you like to buy some pancakes?"
The man's voice was a little muffled, as if it rolled out from the depths of his throat. The look in his eyes didn't seem like he was soliciting business, but rather like he was interrogating.
Gu Luo raised his eyebrows: "Give me a double egg one."
"Tuo."
The man responded promptly, but paused for two seconds before reaching out.
He first grabbed the bucket of multi-grain batter next to him, and with a sudden flick of his wrist - with a "splash", the batter, half the normal amount, quickly spread out on the scalding iron plate. The edges had begun to burn, but the middle was still thick.
The man frowned and tried to push the batter away, but he didn't have enough strength and made a "sizzling" sound, stirring the batter into pieces. Some places were so thin that it was translucent, while some places still had lumps that had not been spread out.
"...Double eggs, huh?"
He seemed not to notice the "disaster scene" and took out two eggs from the plastic box next to him and knocked them twice on the edge of the griddle.
The force was too strong, and the eggshells were shattered into residue, and the egg white and yolk were splashed onto the batter. A few pieces of broken eggshells were mixed in it, which was particularly conspicuous.
I wanted to spread the egg liquid, but when I stirred it, the already shapeless batter became even more messy. The egg white and egg yolk mixed with the burnt multi-grain noodles made it look like a pot of stirred egg drop soup.
Gu Luo just wanted to laugh when he saw this.
Wonderful, really wonderful.
The man seemed a little panicked. He picked up the sauce bottle and squeezed it upwards. A large lump of pasta sauce gurgled out. He wanted to spread it evenly with a brush, but the brush touched it and directly brought up a piece of batter underneath, along with the unequaled egg liquid.
It was even more amazing when sprinkling the chopped green onions. With a shake of his big hand, half a small basin of chopped green onions splashed all over it, piling up green and shiny on the "paste", and it looked like there was more of it than the pancake itself.
The most critical turning step is here.
The man took a deep breath, picked up the spatula, and tried to flip the pancake carefully - but just as he lifted a corner, the unsolidified batter underneath fell with a "pop", and the already loose pancake fell apart instantly. The eggs, chopped green onions, and noodle sauce mixed together, forming a completely indistinguishable paste.
The edges were charred, the middle was soft and watery, and there were a few glaring pieces of broken eggshell embedded in it.
The man's face was a little embarrassed, his strong jaw line was tightened, and his ears turned slightly red.
He stared at the mess for two seconds, as if he had made a difficult decision. He picked up the shovel and shoveled it a few times, then put the pile into a plastic bag. When he handed it over, his voice was a little muffled:
"........it's fucked up, damn it."
Gu Luo took the pancake, suppressed his smile, and remained silent for a few seconds. He took a photo and sent it to a contact, along with a voice message:
"Mr. Liu, these are the soldiers you brought with you... The snack street is waiting for you."
...... ......
...... ......
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