AGN -Chapter 190 Famous Chef List

Discovering a new illustrated entry was certainly something to be happy about, but what to eat tonight was even more important.

Qin Huai changed clothes and went into the kitchen. He found that only a few people—Wang Jun and Dong Shi—were preparing ingredients and chopping. Huang Jia was not there, nor was Master Huang.

After asking around, he learned that Huang Ji would be hosting a wedding banquet the next evening. Huang Shengli would personally cook the banquet’s exclusive dishes, and at this moment he was still undergoing physical therapy to prepare in advance.

As for Huang Jia, worried that Huang Anyao might not be skilled enough in procurement to obtain the best ingredients from suppliers, he had gone personally during the afternoon break to oversee things. No one knew exactly when he would return—if he failed to make it back by dinner service, Huang Shengli would most likely step in and randomly take over Huang Jia’s position as head chef.

One could only say that the guests dining at Huang Ji tonight were in for a treat.

“Dong Shi, do you know which restaurants Mr. Gong visited in Beijing? Why has he been gone so long? From his Moments posts today, it doesn’t look like he has any intention of coming back.” Qin Huai rarely had free time in the Huang Ji kitchen without working, so he stood next to Dong Shi gossiping.

Dong Shi, while chopping meat, replied, “He only ate at one place—a very famous private restaurant in Beijing.”

“Fen Yuan.”

“Fen Yuan?” Qin Huai took out his phone and searched. Indeed, it was very famous—search results returned many posts, both positive and negative.

The positive reviews mostly praised the food: extremely delicious, well-deserved reputation, truly worthy of a top-ten Famous Chef List master’s skill.

The negative reviews mostly criticized the prices: calling it a profiteer, exorbitant, insane pricing—complaining that the dishes were priced like gold rather than food. Without advance reservations, paying extra to add tables made it feel less like a master’s establishment, and more like the head chef was obsessed with money.

“What kind of skill does a top-ten Famous Chef List chef have?” Qin Huai asked curiously.

“Contemporary master, unparalleled, the pinnacle,” Dong Shi replied in a rare, extremely concise yet highly admiring tone. “In my lifetime, let alone entering the top ten of the Famous Chef List—if I could even make it into the top fifty, it would mean ancestral blessings. I’d have no regrets.”

“That impressive?” Qin Huai was somewhat surprised.

He knew about the Famous Chef List because Huang Anyao had previously explained it to him while introducing Xu Cheng’s “Zhi Wei.” It was a ranking system similar to Michelin, but focused solely on chefs, created by Xu Cheng.

The list ranks the world’s top 100 chefs and is updated every five years. Initially, only 50 chefs were selected globally, but in the second evaluation, they expanded it to 100 because 50 was too few.

According to Huang Anyao, one major reason for the expansion was the long evaluation cycle—once every five years—and the fact that most listed chefs were hot-food (red-case) chefs, with very few pastry chefs (white-case).

A chef’s peak career years are limited. Many chefs only get onto the list near the end of their peak, and by the next evaluation cycle, they may have already retired or semi-retired. Since the list does not require active status—any chef still alive can remain listed—it resulted in a situation where, in the second round, only about 30 of the top 50 were still active.

This led to many classic jokes, such as someone being ranked third on the Famous Chef List but considered the best active chef, because the top two had retired and couldn’t compete.

However, Huang Anyao, a loyal fan of “Zhi Wei,” clarified that such situations were impossible. The rankings are determined after careful deliberation by a professional team, and the top 30 require Xu Cheng’s personal approval.

As the world’s most renowned gourmet, Xu Cheng’s credibility in matters of food is unquestionable. This is precisely why the Famous Chef List maintains such high prestige.

The top 50 carries significant weight. Rankings from 51–100 are comparatively less authoritative. The latter half does not require Xu Cheng’s approval, and the judging team differs, allowing more variability—often becoming a way for rising chefs to gain recognition.

For a newcomer chef, how does one make a name in the culinary world?

The answer is: get onto the Famous Chef List.

However, entry has a threshold. With restaurants all over the world, the judging team cannot possibly notice every chef. A chef must first become known, attract attention, and then be visited and evaluated to have a chance of being listed.

Thus, common methods include building publicity—spending money on advertising, securing food magazine interviews—to gain recognition. With decent skill, one might barely enter the list in the 90s, earning a low ranking but qualifying for the next evaluation cycle.

This process allows room for manipulation and loopholes, where some chefs with mediocre skills may gain entry through exposure, while talented but obscure chefs may be overlooked.

Because of this, rankings beyond 60–70 are not highly regarded. Generally, only the top 50 are widely recognized in the industry. The top 30 are considered masters, the top 20 are benchmarks, and the top 10 are elite leaders.

Previously, when Huang Anyao explained this to Qin Huai, he treated it as just a story and didn’t pay much attention.

Now, hearing Dong Shi’s strong acknowledgment—and knowing that Gong Liang had been lingering at a top-ten chef’s private restaurant without wanting to return to Gusu—Qin Huai became interested and looked it up.

From the list, it seemed two of the top ten were Chinese chefs: first place Peng Changping and tenth place Xia Muerui.

Rank 15 was Sun Maocai, also likely a Chinese chef.

Rank 24 was someone Qin Huai had heard of—Pei Shenghua, a distant relative of Pei Xing.

Further down, more Chinese chefs appeared. Qin Huai noticed carefully: Huang Shengli ranked 44th, essentially on the edge of the top 50.

Huang Jia fared worse at 78th—one of those considered less reputable rankings.

Neither Zheng Siyuan nor Zheng Da appeared on the list.

“Why isn’t Master Zheng Da on the Famous Chef List?” Qin Huai asked.

Given Huang Jia’s ranking at 78, Zheng Da’s level should easily place him around the top 50. In Qin Huai’s judgment, Zheng Da’s cooking skills were only slightly below Huang Shengli’s. For someone of Zheng Da’s caliber, being ranked within the top 50 would be quite honorable.

“Uncle Zheng declined to participate in the ranking,” Dong Shi said. After looking around, he lowered his voice and explained, “He actually participated once and ranked 53rd, one spot below Master Tan from Zhiweiju. He felt the ranking was too low and believed his skills were no worse than Master Tan’s. Being ranked below him made him refuse to participate again.”

“But I think that’s just an excuse. The real reason is that his ranking that time was much lower than my master’s.”

“My master’s first appearance on the Famous Chef List was ranked 37th. Now he’s dropped to 44th due to a back injury affecting his performance.”

“Then is the head chef of Fen Yuan ranked first Peng Changping or tenth Xia Muerui?” Qin Huai asked.

“It’s Master Xia. Master Peng has been in the United States for many years and has long retired.”

“How expensive are Fen Yuan’s dishes? Even a top-ten chef gets criticized for being greedy?” Qin Huai became even more curious.

With Huang Shengli at his peak ranked 37th, Qin Huai couldn’t imagine how delicious the dishes of a top-ten chef must be.

Dong Shi thought for a moment and said, “I haven’t eaten there, but I’ve heard it’s about ten times more expensive than our Huang Ji.”

Qin Huai: !

“And if you don’t have a reservation and need to pay extra to be squeezed in, it can double again.”

Qin Huai: !!

“Mr. Gong has been eating there these past few days. He probably spent several days’ worth of my yearly salary.”

Qin Huai gained a completely new understanding of Gong Liang’s wealth.

Worse… he wanted even more to inherit 10% of his inheritance. Could the game system please issue more side quests related to Gong Liang? He was very willing to do them.

“Oh right, Qin Huai, Master said you’ll stop making five-ingredient buns and switch to three-ingredient buns. Why is that? Is seafood hard to handle? But you don’t have to handle it yourself, right?” Dong Shi asked.

“It’s because I went back to Yunzhong Canteen these past few days to practice three-ingredient buns and gained some insights. I feel I’ve made a breakthrough. I think three-ingredient buns are more worth practicing, and I’m currently better at them, so I’ll focus on those from now on,” Qin Huai said solemnly.

Dong Shi: ?

He had only taken six days off—what kind of insights could he possibly gain?

Cooking isn’t like cultivating inner energy where one breakthrough leads to a whole new realm. It requires steady, accumulated practice, unless one hits a bottleneck and suddenly gains enlightenment.

Qin Huai clearly hadn’t hit any bottleneck. He was like a game character leveling up once his experience bar filled—he had never been stuck.

“Alright then,” Dong Shi accepted, though he didn’t quite understand. “Will you still make chicken soup noodles tomorrow morning?”

“Of course. Zheng Siyuan loves chicken soup noodles. Since I can’t make crab roe shumai right now, I’ll definitely make chicken soup noodles in the morning,” Qin Huai replied.

Dong Shi looked puzzled: “Zheng Siyuan loves chicken soup noodles? When did he tell you that? Where did you hear it? I’ve never heard of it. Although I don’t usually talk to him much—in fact, he hardly talks to us at all—who spread that information?”

Dong Shi looked like no one in the kitchen could possibly be more well-informed than him.

“I guessed,” Qin Huai said calmly. “I noticed long ago that whenever I make chicken soup noodles in the morning, Zheng Siyuan seems a bit happier. It’s obvious he prefers them.”

“Especially when Huang Jia is making broth—he drinks the soup completely every time.”

“And I can also tell that although Huang Anyao says he likes crab roe shumai, he actually prefers fruit-shaped buns.”

“Huang Jia likes sweet fillings like sweet-scented wine mantou.”

“You like fermented rice buns.”

“Your brother’s favorite is Yuanmeng pancakes, though he’s a bit picky about the filling I make—sometimes he secretly prepares his own filling to eat with the pancakes.”

Dong Shi was once again shocked. It turned out Qin Huai was better at gathering gossip than anyone in the Huang Ji kitchen.

“Let’s drop that topic. Who’s making the staff meal tonight?” Qin Huai asked.

“My brother,” Dong Shi said, still recovering from the shock. “So that’s why he stir-fried meat filling last time—to eat with Yuanmeng pancakes. I wondered why he suddenly made that dish.”

Qin Huai nodded. “I’ll go to the bone-setting clinic first and come back later to join the staff meal.”

Dong Shi watched Qin Huai leave and muttered, “Have I been working at Huang Ji for eight years, or has Qin Huai? Why do I feel like he knows this place better than I do?”

Wang Jun silently sorted the chopped ingredients and said, “Qin Huai has the habit of observing what others eat and remembering their preferences. Didn’t you know that?”

Dong Shi suffered another blow.

“Otherwise, why do you think Mr. Gong likes him so much?” Wang Jun added. “A chef with this level of skill and this kind of habit—one who can actually put it into practice—is extremely rare.”

“Not to mention Qin Huai has a good relationship with Mr. Gong and is willing to cook special meals for him.”

Dong Shi finally understood. He put down his knife and chased after Qin Huai: “Qin Huai! What do you want to eat tonight? I’ll have my brother cook it for you!”

Wang Jun: …

It felt like someone had started competing in an odd direction.