AGN -Chapter 319 If someone’s going to flip, does it really matter who?

Apart from the step involving frying sea cucumber, which felt somewhat confusing, the rest of the preparation method for the Double Crab Bun filling was within Qin Huai’s understanding.

It also matched what Old Master Wang’s recipe described.

Simply put, Double Crab Buns made with fresh crab roe and those made with crab roe paste follow two completely different cooking philosophies.

Both place extremely high demands on seasoning skills. The former requires minimizing seasoning as much as possible, bringing out the natural flavor of the ingredients—namely the taste of crab roe. The goal is to use the least amount of seasoning to suppress the fishy smell of sea cucumber and crab roe, while also giving the sea cucumber a new flavor that complements the crab roe.

Qin Huai referred to this seasoning approach as “lightness”—using seemingly minimal seasoning to highlight the true taste of the ingredients. Under this method, the focus of the Double Crab Bun appears to be the crab roe, but the real difficulty actually lies in the sea cucumber.

How to use the simplest seasoning to suppress the fishiness of crab roe while preserving its original flavor—Qin Huai had already learned and practiced this with crab roe siu mai.

The result was decent. Not astonishingly brilliant, but at least it didn’t fail or embarrass the crab roe siu mai.

However, dealing with the sea cucumber’s fishiness using minimal seasoning was not just a matter of simple seasoning. There were many questions: how to process the sea cucumber, how to soak it, how many times to soak it, how long each soak should be, how to cut it, whether it should be simmered in stock, whether plain water or broth was better, and what kind of sauce should be used. All of these were issues.

Fortunately, all these problems had already been answered in Old Master Wang’s recipe. That recipe originally came from Chef Jing. Chef Jing’s version was purchased at a high price by Xu Nuo, the younger son of Factory Director Xu. At that time, Chef Jing rewrote the two recipes for Xu Nuo because Wang Gensheng urgently needed money and was planning to sell them. To make them easier to sell, Chef Jing further revised the recipes.

The revisions made unclear or difficult-to-understand parts more detailed, turning them into a “nanny-level” beginner tutorial.

Such a recipe was easier to sell and could fetch a higher price.

Chef Jing’s intentions were all contained within this recipe.

Thanks to this beginner-friendly guide, the previously controversial and confusing steps for handling sea cucumber were written clearly and explicitly. One only needed to follow the instructions exactly—provided they could actually do it.

This was also why, after reading the recipe Old Master Wang gave Qin Huai, Zheng Siyuan felt that it didn’t matter if there was no fresh crab roe to make the “authentic” Double Crab Bun. Because the difficulty of the authentic version might not even be higher than the crab roe paste version.

The crab roe paste version was a completely different style—one where the more seasoning, the better; the stronger the flavor, the better; the more prominent the spices, the better.

Qin Huai also somewhat understood why it was like this. Cooking worked this way: light pairs with light, rich pairs with rich. Fresh crab roe already had natural advantages—its focus was freshness and original taste, so simplicity was best.

But crab roe paste itself was made by simmering with a large amount of seasonings and spices. To improve texture and shelf life, starch was also used for thickening. The entire process had long since stopped being about natural freshness—it was full of spices.

In that case, it was better to fully embrace richness.

After all, crab roe and sea cucumber were similar in that regard. Even cold sea cucumber dishes used extremely strong sauces, with ingredients like mustard playing a dominant role. So sea cucumber wasn’t afraid of heavy seasoning either.

It could be said that if the two versions of the Double Crab Bun recipes were given separately to ordinary people without telling them they were the same dish, they would definitely think they were two completely different kinds of buns.

Their styles, ideas, and approaches were entirely different.

Qin Huai watched Zheng Siyuan prepare the filling.

According to Zheng Siyuan, Chef Jing’s crab roe paste recipe was already outdated. Times had changed and technology had advanced. With modern methods, there was no need to use so many spices just to preserve the sauce, and improvements could be made in both taste and style.

Of course, Zheng Siyuan was not entirely disrespectful to tradition. Although he felt his master’s crab roe paste recipe was outdated, he still acknowledged its quality and believed it would be excellent for mixing with noodles.

After all, richly flavored sauce always tastes good with noodles.

Qin Huai had only tasted a bit the night before and hadn’t had time to mix it with noodles. He planned to properly enjoy crab roe noodles once they officially began studying the sauce.

At that time, he would scoop three large spoonfuls of sauce into a bowl of noodles, mix thoroughly so every strand was coated, and pair it with some refreshing side dishes like pickled radish, sour beans, or pickles. Then he’d have a cup of aged tangerine peel tea or Xiao Ou’s freshly hand-shaken lemon tea…

Slurp.

Qin Huai decided he would message Ou Yang that night and tell him to open the milk tea shop earlier in the morning and not wait until 8 p.m.

A certain unnamed Chef Qin needed breakfast before 8 a.m., and opening at 8 severely affected his crab roe noodle schedule.

The crab roe paste was already prepared, so the focus of the filling was now the sea cucumber.

Zheng Siyuan was extremely careful—one could even say cautious. If conditions allowed, or if it weren’t unnecessary, he might have used measuring cups, droppers, and precision scales to control every gram.

As Qin Huai expected, the sea cucumber filling required strong seasoning.

After being fried in oil, the surface of the sea cucumber became slightly crispy, improving both texture and flavor absorption. Qin Huai watched as Zheng Siyuan added various spices step by step: stirring, resting, removing, and chopping into cubes.

Then the sea cucumber was mixed with crab roe paste, stir-fried over low heat, and finally simmered like the filling for Three-Delicacy Buns.

The aroma of the filling had already become very rich.

Not the kind of richness from steamed bun fillings, but a rich dish aroma. To an uninformed passerby, it would be hard to imagine this was bun filling—they would probably think it was a dish being reduced over high heat.

Qin Huai wanted to taste it.

As the saying goes, if you want to know what a pear tastes like, you have to try it yourself. Qin Huai thought so—and did so.

“Can I try a bite now?” he asked.

Zheng Siyuan stepped aside and let him scoop a spoonful.

Qin Huai was not polite. He had been watching and smelling it the whole time and was already hungry. He scooped a large spoonful, let it cool, and took a small bite.

It was delicious.

As expected, this filling would definitely taste great with noodles.

The flavor came from the crab roe paste—rich crab aroma with a thick, starchy body. No fishiness, no off-notes. The sea cucumber blended in perfectly and was almost unnoticeable. The only trace of it was a soft, slightly chewy texture with a faint crispness from being fried then simmered.

Zheng Siyuan was right: in Double Crab Buns, the crab roe provides the flavor, and the sea cucumber provides the texture.

The sea cucumber’s job is to integrate without standing out.

A masterful display of seasoning skill.

Qin Huai savored it for a few seconds, finishing the rest of the filling bite by bite, then asked: “If the fresh crab roe version is made, does it taste like this too?”

Zheng Siyuan answered honestly: “I don’t know. I’ve never eaten it.”

“The first time you asked me, I already told you—I only know the crab roe paste version. My father probably only knows this version too.”

“The other recipe was given to my master by a guest, and later taken back. According to my master, the creator of that recipe wasn’t him, nor did he truly own it. He only studied and used it temporarily, so he doesn’t have the right to pass it on to anyone else—not even his own disciples.”

“So my father never actually learned how to make the fresh crab roe version. He only knows a rough idea and didn’t study it further.”

“However, he has eaten it. If you want, you can call him now, but I can’t guarantee he can explain it clearly.”

“Never mind,” Qin Huai said.

He had confidence in Zheng Da’s ability to explain things—he definitely wouldn’t be able to make it clear.

“I’m just curious. I think the two versions probably taste different. I can’t say which is better—they each have their own merits,” Qin Huai said.

“My senior uncle said the same thing,” Zheng Siyuan nodded. “I asked him before too. Although he couldn’t describe it clearly after so many years, he said the two flavors are definitely different.”

“Like twins—even if they look similar, they are still different individuals. Parents and close family can tell them apart.”

“Not to mention the cooking methods are different—the taste difference is even greater. My senior uncle told me that the guest who gave the recipe to my master used to love eating both versions together. He thought that was the complete way to enjoy Double Crab Buns.”

At that moment, Qin Huai instantly developed deep respect for Xu Nuo.

As expected of the factory director’s youngest son. While ordinary diners were satisfied just smelling fermented buns and pairing them with rice, Xu Nuo had already developed the luxurious way of eating two kinds of Double Crab Buns together.

Truly extravagant.

During their casual conversation, Zheng Siyuan turned off the heat, scooped out the filling to let it cool, and began wrapping buns.

Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan wrapped them together.

“After tasting the filling just now, what do you think the Double Crab Bun filling should be like?” Zheng Siyuan asked.

“Hard to say,” Qin Huai frowned. He truly felt it was difficult to define.

Before tasting it, he only had a vague idea of what a Double Crab Bun was. After tasting it, he still only had a vague idea.

“I think it tastes pretty good, but I really can’t imagine this being bun filling,” Qin Huai said honestly. “As a filling, isn’t it a bit too heavy in flavor?”

“It’s almost like those strange red-oil hotpot filling buns—you know what I mean? It feels like taking a proper dish and forcing it into a bun as filling.”

Zheng Siyuan fell silent.

Qin Huai didn’t immediately notice this, as he was still absorbed in his own thoughts.

He continued, “Yes, exactly that feeling. When I tasted the filling just now, it already felt a bit strange. Even when I smelled it, it felt like a dish—even if not a dish, then at least a noodle topping.”

“Normally, when making bun filling, unless it’s something very unconventional like Guo’er’s style, fillings and dishes are clearly separate things. You can immediately tell during preparation—whether it’s meant for white-dough fillings or stir-fried dishes.”

“But this Double Crab Bun filling is very ambiguous. If you don’t believe me, I’ll call someone over to ask. You know An Youyou, right? She’s not skilled, so she won’t lie.”

With that, Qin Huai waved at An Youyou, who was nearby frying radish cakes, signaling her to come over.

Seeing the boss call her, An Youyou quickly handed her pan to someone nearby and jogged over.

“Chef Qin, did Sister Hong rush the radish cakes? I’m frying them now. The order is too big—I can only manage two pans at once. Any more and they’ll burn. I already found help, and in about five minutes I’ll send them over,” she said nervously, thinking she had messed something up and might lose her promotion before it even happened.

Qin Huai: ?

“How many did Sister Hong order?”

“300 large portions of radish cake. She said it’s for a community committee event today.”

Qin Huai: “……”

As expected of Chen Huihong—her way of building relationships was basically working people to exhaustion.

Thinking that he hadn’t spent much time slicing radishes today, Qin Huai asked with concern, “Do we have enough radish? Should I cut more?”

“It’s enough. Chef Chen An just cut a lot. The remaining shredded radish might need you to season it later. The current amount is enough for the community order. I saw you were busy, so I was going to tell you later,” An Youyou explained.

She kept watching Qin Huai carefully, afraid of seeing any dissatisfaction on his face.

But Qin Huai didn’t care at all. As the true and only owner of Yunzhong Canteen, he rarely involved himself in day-to-day matters. He was used to not being informed until everything was already arranged or completed.

Even the periodic reports from Huang Xi, he barely read—just glanced over them.

A Chef Qin confident in his skills knew very well what Yunzhong Canteen truly relied on: not marketing strategy, but his cooking.

“Small matter. I’ll season it later. First, try this filling—what does it taste like to you?” Qin Huai pointed at the bowl of filling.

An Youyou immediately understood and took a spoon.

Just a small bite.

She tasted it, paused, and her eyes widened in admiration, ready to praise it enthusiastically.

“Don’t talk about how good it is yet,” Qin Huai interrupted. “Just tell me what it feels like.”

“Vegetables,” An Youyou said. “Delicious vegetables. If used to stew or mix with rice, it would be amazing!”

Clearly, An Youyou had her own unique insight when it came to food.

Thinking of using Double Crab Bun filling for stewing and mixing with rice—only she could come up with that. Truly worthy of being a Three-Legged Golden Toad.

Zheng Siyuan: “……”

In an unnoticed corner, Zheng Siyuan had already been mentally shutting down for a while.

“Alright, go back to work. I’ll handle seasoning the radish cake filling later,” Qin Huai said.

An Youyou returned to frying radish cakes.

Qin Huai turned back to Zheng Siyuan and finally noticed something was off. His friend looked unusually low-spirited, as if something deeply humiliating had just happened.

“What’s wrong?” Qin Huai asked with concern. “Stomach upset?”

“If you’re uncomfortable, go to the restroom. I’ll finish wrapping the rest of the buns.”

Zheng Siyuan pursed his lips. “No.”

Then, as if making a life-or-death decision, he said solemnly: “You said the filling tastes like a dish.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty special.”

“When my dad taught me, he told me the biggest taboo when making Double Crab Buns with crab roe paste is making the filling taste like a dish.”

“In Double Crab Buns, even the slightest deviation in seasoning leads to a completely different result. Even if it’s not bad, if it’s wrong, it’s still a failure.”

Qin Huai: “……”

Only then did Qin Huai realize what had just happened.

Little Chef Zheng had, for the first time—while demonstrating his cooking skills and presenting a sample dish—completely messed up.

A serious failure.

Qin Huai felt he should say something to comfort him.

“Double Crab Buns are already very difficult. It’s normal if it didn’t turn out perfect,” Qin Huai said reassuringly. “It tastes good, really.”

“Much better than when I made Si Xi Tang Yuan before!”

When things go wrong, you get used to it eventually. Even if it’s a bit embarrassing while demonstrating, life is full of embarrassing moments anyway—no need to take it too seriously.

Zheng Siyuan silently put down the bun he had just wrapped.

“The staff restroom is on the second floor, right?”

“I’m going to the bathroom to calm down.”

“Steam the buns yourself when they’re done—I trust you know how to control the heat.”