I then asked if there were any time restrictions.
Their belief is that you can't make good food if you limit your time. It's like how the men in their tribe simply throw the food into the fire to cook.
This would certainly be much faster in terms of efficiency, but the food wouldn't taste as good. We're competing on skill now, so there's no time limit; everything is about the taste.
I nodded, indicating that I had no objection and that we could begin at any time.
Just as the women were distributing the bamboo partridges, I realized that I only had ten bamboo partridges on my side, while the other side had thirteen.
I asked Dante, "Did they miscount? Why do I only have ten here?"
Dante smiled at me, shook his head firmly to indicate that he was right, and then spoke.
"Sir, they gave you three because they see you are a guest. They were worried that you would leave too much food uneaten and lose face."
Holy crap...
I was both amused and exasperated. Today, I was actually mocked by a group of indigenous women. Were they trying to embarrass me before the competition even started?
"Alright, alright. It's fine if you let me off the hook, but you'll regret it later." I smiled at the native woman named Sou across from me.
He glanced at me, shrugged with an indifferent smile, and said something to the women around him.
Then Dante whispered in my ear, "They're praising you. They haven't met anyone as fearless as me in a long time."
"hehe……"
I smiled faintly and said, "You can keep talking nonsense."
Since there's no time limit, I'll start by tidying up the earthen stove I use for cooking.
It's not that the makeshift stoves built by these indigenous women are unusable, but the firewood utilization rate is low, and the calorific value does not meet my requirements.
Since we are competing in cooking skills, fire is the most crucial factor, so how can we do without high-quality and efficient firepower?
I dug two holes in the ground like before to make Decota fire pits, and then built a simple siphon intake system on the basis of the Decota fire pits.
Seeing that I hadn't even started a fire yet, but was instead doing some fancy stuff, the guy opposite me couldn't help but shake his head helplessly.
At that moment, my impression of her was that this young man was no good.
So, perhaps worried that I wouldn't even be able to start a fire, she called out to me, meaning she could teach me how to start a fire, or give me some embers later.
Hmph... I've been looked down upon again.
I waved my hand, indicating that I didn't need any help. It seems I'm going to show you a little something, otherwise this mental blow would be really hard to bear.
Just as Sou was proudly showing me how she used her bow and drill to start a fire, I felt I had to open this woman's eyes to something, otherwise she wouldn't know why the flowers were so red.
I went back to where I kept my things and took out some nitrocellulose. Then I pulled up a handful of dried weeds that I used to make tinder and put the nitrocellulose inside.
The woman opposite me couldn't help but sneer when she saw that I hadn't even drilled the wood yet before picking up the tinder.
I was thinking, "You just said you didn't need any help, and you can't even start a fire. Are you planning to just make this dish cold?"
Faced with the women's mockery, I simply smiled faintly, then picked up my machete and a rock.
"Look, isn't he starting a fire?"
"Yes, yes! Who uses a knife to start a fire? It seems this guest is exaggerating his cooking skills. He'll be embarrassed later."
"Oh! Right, but he's our honored guest, so we can't laugh at him."
"Yes, you can't laugh. Unless you really can't help it, hahaha~~"
These women meant no harm; she just trusted her common sense too much and never thought that there was such a thing as a miracle!
"when!"
"Sizzle!"
As a spark was thrown out by the stone, the nitrocellulose placed on the hay burst into flames, directly igniting the entire tinder in my hand.
Not only is there no need to rub wood together, but even the step of blowing air into the wood to start a fire is completely omitted. At that moment, it was as if I were performing magic, suddenly conjuring fire from my hands.
At that moment, the Tu women who had just been mocking and ridiculing were stunned. Not only the Tu women, but the entire tribe was frozen in place.
In their understanding, you have to drill into the wood for a while before sparks will appear. These sparks also need to be placed in tinder and blown around for a while to raise the temperature before they can ignite into a flame.
I simply conjured up fire, which naturally surprised them.
However, the surprised expression on the face of the indigenous woman named Sou quickly disappeared. This was a cooking competition, not a contest of who could start a fire the fastest.
Sou stopped looking in my direction, but kept muttering to himself, talking incoherently.
The fire quickly started burning. Their method of processing bamboo partridge feathers was simple and crude, somewhat like how I use fire to burn small animals like rabbits.
After the outer feathers were completely charred, they used bamboo knives to scrape off the black substance on the surface of the charred bamboo partridge before washing it clean in water.
I won't be using fire to deal with those bamboo partridges right now.
The feathers of bamboo partridges are different from those of ordinary animals; their feather follicles are coarser, and if burned, the feather roots will be burned directly into the skin.
These remaining feather roots will affect the taste of the bamboo partridge. I was speechless. Is this the same culinary genius who can attract wild animals from the neighboring mountains?
The water in my pot has boiled, and I plan to scald the feathers with the boiling water and then pluck them off by hand, just like how my family used to boil water and kill ducks for festivals.
There's a specific technique to using the water for plucking the feathers; the water shouldn't be boiled too vigorously, otherwise the bamboo partridge's skin will be scalded and ruined, affecting its overall appearance.
The ideal water temperature is between 80 and 90 degrees Celsius. It's easy to judge this temperature: just stop heating as soon as you see small bubbles rising and bubbling at the bottom of the pot.
This is the ideal water temperature, whether for slaughtering pigs, chickens, or ducks.
My ten bamboo partridges were quickly processed by the three of us. Dante, seeing the use of boiling water to remove feathers for the first time, was full of curiosity.
I never imagined that simply putting the birds in boiling water for a bath would so easily pluck all their feathers off.
Even the Tu women opposite me, who had previously mocked my ignorance, were surprised to see the bamboo partridge that had been cleaned and plucked.
They never imagined that this kind of bird could be processed in this way, and the level of cleanliness was so abnormal that not a single stray feather could be found.
Looking at the bamboo partridges that were much cleaner than their own, and then at the bamboo partridges in their hands that were burnt and had feathers left on their wings, they felt a pang of sadness.
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