Night 40: Gladiia, White Cut Fowl (Chicken)
The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?
As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.
Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.
Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.
Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.
Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.
There existed an ancient form of duel. It had appeared in countless tales of the Yan storytellers, manuscripts of Kaimierz novelists and the ballads of Laterano bards. The battlefield was always dead silent, and the on-lookers stayed yards away from the conflict as if one step closer would have them affected by the astounding combat. As for the stand-off itself, both sides kept their quiet and stared intensely at each other. Any slight movement would give away a deadly flaw. Any gaps between breaths could be the moment the opponent struck.
A giant sign that read "Closed for Business" had been hung above the door to the Diner. There were only two customers before the long bar counter. A crowd of watchers had surrounded the two, forming a half ring only steps away from them. A young man freshly off his night shift squeezed through the crowd and poked the man in front of him. "Hey. Hey you, what's going on here tonight? Why did the Diner close?"
"Shhhh. Shut your mouth. Just watch." The man replied without turning his head. He didn't want to miss any details.
Both customers at the counter were Aegiers. Both had white hair and red eyes. One propped up her forearms on the counter and held her head. She watched the Chef with curiosity and a grin on her face. The other one kept her eyes closed and her face expressionless, as if the entire scene around mattered little to her.
"Oh show some enthusiasm, swordfish. Everybody is watching and waiting." Laurentina of the Abyssal Hunters turned her head toward her icy companion and said. "Look, a fowlbeast. I wonder how will the boss prepare this plump little beastie. What do you think?"
It was indeed quite a plump fowlbeast. Judging by the bloodstains around its decapitated neck, it must be freshly slaughtered. There were always bags after bags of processed fowlbeast frozen inside the canteen freezer, yet using those for a dish for Gladiia would be decisively unwise. In fact, the carcass in the Chef's hand was a free-range fowlbeast kept in the Rhodes Island's Agriculture Module. It had spent its days flying up in the the trees and down in the streams. Plenty of exercise had made its breast and thighs firm and chewy. Wrapped around the flesh was a layer of light golden fat and the thin, web-like skin. It looked that it could provide a quite delicious meal.
"No matter. With what the landwellers have to work with, they can only make something mediocre." Gladiia said. She did not move a flinch, not even opening her eyes. There was barely any emotion in her cold, distant voice.
The Chef chopped up some ginger roots and green onions and threw them into the wok. After a few rounds of stir-frying to bring out their aroma, he put in soaked dried scallop and prawns. The hot oil activated the salty and savoury scent out of the seafood, and the splashed-in rice wine followed caused a small explosion in the wok. The fragrance of the spices spread quickly along with the evaporation of the alcohol, and when the air was thick with the scent the Chef poured large amount of water into the wok. A sheen of amber-coloured oil instantly floated up onto the water's surface.
When the wok was brought to a boil, the Chef added in salt, sugar and white pepper powder. The fresh scent of the sea was released once more with the boiling of the broth. Laurentina's eyes widened with expectation, yet Gladiia was still unmoved by the enticing aroma in the air. The Chef poured out a portion of the broth into a deep tray then added in large amount of ice. The fowlbeast, gutted and washed clean, was lowered into the boiling wok to be cooked.
Most would cut off the feet when they cook fowlbeast. Yet the experienced chefs of Yan favoured using the entire fowlbeast and let it to be boiled in the broth whole. The feet were folded and bent through the cut and into the stomach. This way the fowlbeast belly could be expanded and thus easier for it to absorb the flavours from the broth. The heat should not be too high, and the broth in the wok should also be kept at the state of slight, constant boiling, with layers of small yet dense bubbles roiling on the surface. The Chef poured the broth into the belly of the fowlbeast in the wok again and again with a ladle to ensure the consistency of the temperature, at the same time keeping the texture of the meat as tender as possible. The skin puffed slightly under the heat, and slowly turning from light pink to a colour of pleasant light gold. Enticing aroma of cooked fowlbeast spread freely in the air with the water vapour from the wok. Many among the on-lookers unconsciously swallowed, with their appetite brought up by the mesmerising scent.
"Look, look! The boss is making the dipping sauce, swordfish!" Laurentina took a deep breath, enjoying the fragrance in the air. Then she poked her unmoving friend on the shoulder. "I hope it's not spicy. I don't like spicy fowlbeast meat."
Gladiia did not answer. She listened to the sound of cleaver chopping through the meat and hitting the cutting board. It was accompanied by the sound of bones breaking and the tiny splashes of juices splashed onto the board. She also smelled the stimulating scent of sand ginger and red onion. It appeared that this was the best the landewllers could do. With this thought, she shook her head. To her, this "duel" of taste was but another child's play. If it was not at Laurentina's insistence, she would not even linger a second more in the Diner.
After nearly twenty minutes of simmering with low heat, the Chef fetched out the cooked fowlbeat and submerged it into the bath he prepared with broth and ice. The skin became crisp and tight with the effect of thermal expansion, and the Chef carefully applied a layer of peanut oil on top of the fowlbeast, making the already golden skin looked even shinier and clear. It was also meant to lock in the fresh flavour of the meat. He heated up some canola oil, then poured it inside the saucer of chopped sand ginger and red onion. The fowlbeast was then cut into tidy pieces. The meat was cooked just right – it was light pink in colour, and would release clear juice with only the slightest pressure. One could still see the dark red marrow inside the cut-open bones.
"Plesae enjoy." The Chef passed the plate before Gladiia, and waited for her judgement. He folded his arms and stood firm behind the counter.
The Chef was naturally proud of his cooking. He had faced down many a culinarians, celebrity chefs and food commentators from all nations of Terra. An Aegier consul of self-titled importance sprouting nonsense about cooking of the people of the continent – this was not something that he could just sit and watch idly-by. Therefore after two nights of going through his cook books and staring at his menu, he at last decided the dish for tonight's "duel" would be the "white cut fowl" of southern Yan.
Gladiia took up the fork, then pick up a piece of the fowlbest meat. She sniffed at it. There was no added scent, only a faint salty-savoury smell along with the aroma of the meat and a slight hint of blood. There was no stink of the meat present, however. Sending it into her mouth and chewed thoroughly, she felt the skin was quite snappy and chewy in texture. Al dente, she recalled what a Siracusian would describe it. The meat itself was juicy and tender without any other sort of overwhelming flavours nor impurities. It was like a blank canvas, wherever one would like to place the mountains and rivers were completely up to their will and their will alone.
The dipping sauce for the fowlbeast was thick with its own distinct aroma. The denizens of southern region of Yan favoured sand ginger and red onions for fowlbeast meat. The slightly spicy herbs could neutralise what's left of the stink in the meat while bringing out the flavour of the meat itself. It was tasty enough that one could wolf down two bowls of white rice with just the dipping sauce alone. And it was not an exaggeration.
Sometime later, the lady consul took a piece of paper napkin and dabbed on her lips to clear the meat juices left behind. Laurentina fished a piece of remaining chunk from the plate and dropped in her mouth. She held her cheeks in surprise while her eyes beamed with excitement. "My oh my, you can't even spare a few kind words for a dish such as this? Your standard for the landewllers' cooling was too damn high, swordfish."
"Humph. It was so-so." Gladiia stood up from her seat, and like splitting apart the ocean she walked through the crowed and disappeared at the end of the hallway. The on-lookers all mumbled about the haunty arrogance of the Aegier woman. Their opinion would be justified if it's someone else, and the Chef would rush out of the kitchen with knife in hand to support them if it was indeed someone else. Yet what they didn't know was that she had branded all the landewllers' cuisine as "tasteless rubbish", except the ones made in the Diner by the Chef.
Showing off skills in front of a native Aegier would be like showing off Originium Arts before the Witch King of Leithania. Any extravagant display of cooking of a landweller would be like a childish affair in their eyes. If anyone would try to conquer their highly refined palate, only an intentionally undefined, seemingly simplistic dish like the white cut fowl would do. Like the chefs of Yan had said, the simple taste of the ingredient itself would beat any extravagant display.
The Chef looked at the somewhat confused crowed and clapped his hands together. "The fowlbeast was ordered beforehand from the Agriculture Module. If any of you want one, go ask the Logistics people and pay them yourself. I'm taking a night off tonight, so you all go to Closure for snack bread." Joking aside, that plump fowlbeast did cost him quite a few sheets of Lungmen dollar bills. He would not be one to be ripped off.