Chapter 8: Save Some for Me!

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Gourmets possess an exceptionally refined ability to discern the qualities of dishes.

At this moment, Zhou Qing, like Zhou Yun, detected a faint aroma in the air—one unmistakably characteristic of frying.

This realization caused his brow to lift almost imperceptibly.

In his experience, frying is not unheard of in fish dishes, but it is typically reserved for small fish.

Those tiny fish, with little meat and many bones, usually yield mediocre flavor and are inconvenient to eat when prepared conventionally. However, frying them whole—bones and all, before the bones fully harden—produces a delightfully crisp and fragrant result.

Fried small fish are savored primarily for their crispiness and aroma.

Yet this technique is unsuitable for mandarin fish, known for having few bones and tender flesh.

Since mandarin fish have minimal bones, there is no need to fry the bones to crispness; moreover, frying a fish of this size until the bones harden would render the meat tough and inedible.

Furthermore, though fried food is aromatic, its greasiness tends to overpower the delicate sweetness of mandarin fish, degrading the overall quality.

Therefore, despite the enticing scent wafting in, Zhou Qing’s evaluation of Qin Lang’s dish was subconsciously diminished even before it was presented.

“Sizzle, sizzle…”

A faint sound emerged from the kitchen, causing Zhou Qing’s ears to twitch.

What was that sound?

The sound of frying?

Not entirely.

As the noise grew louder, Zhou Qing felt a subtle familiarity but could not immediately place it.

Footsteps approached, accompanied by an intensifying fragrance. Qin Lang emerged from the kitchen and gently placed the dish on the table.

“Squirrel Mandarin Fish. Please enjoy,” he announced.

Zhou Qing’s gaze immediately fixed on the dish, his pupils contracting slightly.

“This is mandarin fish?!” Zhou Yun couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise, but after catching his father’s stern glare, he quickly covered his mouth, though his astonishment remained evident.

After silently admonishing Zhou Yun with his eyes, Zhou Qing carefully examined the vividly red “squirrel” before him, gradually discerning the clever craftsmanship behind it.

“Two halves of a fish body made into the body and tail?” Zhou Qing murmured, picking up the squirrel’s head with his chopsticks.

After a brief thought, he rotated the head to restore its original orientation as if still attached to the mandarin fish.

“I see now.”

“There’s no excessive carving; the small fins behind the fish’s head, when viewed from a different angle, remarkably resemble a squirrel’s head. Quite ingenious.”

He set the squirrel head aside and returned his attention to the body and tail.

The red sauce coating the surface was still bubbling vigorously, causing Zhou Qing to narrow his eyes slightly.

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“Was that sound just now the sauce being poured onto the freshly fried fish?” Zhou Qing’s voice carried a hint of sudden understanding.

No wonder it sounded familiar.

Cold liquid hitting hot oil produces a similar sound.

Upon closer reflection, the noise resembled a squirrel’s chittering call, and the dish was crafted to resemble a squirrel’s form — such thoughtful artistry was truly rare.

However, a dish’s merit is not judged by appearance alone.

From his brief observation, Zhou Qing was certain that this “Squirrel Mandarin Fish” employed frying.

Moreover, Qin Lang seemed to have taken great care to prevent the greasiness from overpowering the fish’s flavor by scoring the flesh, increasing the surface area in contact with the oil.

Realizing this, Zhou Qing felt a pang of regret but extended his chopsticks to sample the fried fish.

“Crack!”

With a faint crisp sound, a single fish strip snapped cleanly from the rest, leaving a small piece of skin at the end.

Zhou Qing nodded slightly. “Excellent knife skills.”

From his earlier visual inspection, he had noticed Qin Lang’s cuts were meticulously even, the intervals between each cut nearly identical.

This moment confirmed that each incision had precisely sliced the skin without severing it, preventing the fish strips from sticking together.

Achieving these two feats simultaneously is a mark of exceptional craftsmanship.

Without hesitation, Zhou Qing bit into half a fish strip.

Instantly, his eyes widened.

The initial taste was a balance of sweet and sour.

The thickened sauce clung evenly to the crispy starch coating, the sweet-and-sour flavor invigorating the palate and whetting the appetite.

After a brief chew, the flavor evolved.

The fried starch coating was crisp yet carried a subtle chewiness from soaking up the sauce.

This combination greatly tempered the oiliness and enriched the texture.

In contrast, the interior was tender fish meat.

Contrary to expectations that the greasiness would mask the mandarin fish’s natural sweetness, Zhou Qing distinctly tasted the gentle sweetness and even detected the juiciness within the flesh.

This…

Zhou Qing cast a careful glance at the remaining half on his chopsticks.

The cross-section clearly revealed fresh, juicy meat inside.

This fish did not taste fried; it was more akin to steamed.

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Wait…

Steamed?

Zhou Qing’s gaze shifted from the fish meat to the surrounding crispy shell.

Suddenly, a thunderclap of realization struck him, jolting him awake.

Countless tiny crisp shells had formed a dense protective layer under high heat, locking in the delicate fish meat and creating an airtight high-temperature environment…

Was this not a miniature steamer of sorts?

In an instant, Zhou Qing was astonished by the brilliance of this idea.

He knew well that what sounded simple was actually quite difficult to achieve.

First, the crisp shell had to uniformly envelop every corner without a single gap.

Second, the heat had to be precisely controlled.

Too much heat would instantly destroy this delicate state, turning the dish into a truly fried mandarin fish.

Expressionless, Zhou Qing consumed the remaining half of the fish strip.

He felt ashamed of his initial misjudgment.

To judge a dish as inferior without truly tasting it is a grievous error for a gourmet.

He acknowledged that age had dulled his reverence toward fine cuisine, despite years of experience.

Fortunately, he had recognized this before it was too late…

“Dad…” a strange voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What is it?” Zhou Qing glared at Zhou Yun displeased. “No unrelated talk during evaluation!”

Zhou Yun felt helpless.

He wished he could remain silent, but…

“This fish… did you save me any?”

Zhou Qing paused, instinctively glancing at the plate, only to realize that the half-fish used as the squirrel’s tail was already gone—eaten by himself.

Even the squirrel’s body portion had been partially consumed.

“This… all eaten by me?” Zhou Qing stared wide-eyed in shock.

With advancing age, his appetite had waned considerably; how long had it been since he’d enjoyed such a hearty meal?