Cooking System: Street Food Rules
Chapter 85: Where’s My Cold Face?

Chapter 85: Chapter 85: Where’s My Cold Face?

Nurse Yang Juan changed into her uniform, handed over her duties to a colleague, and then did her rounds checking the patient beds.

Then, she returned to the chair where she had been sitting, hoping to find her grilled cold noodles.

The chair was empty.

Where are my grilled cold noodles?

Yang Juan was slightly startled.

My big bowl of steaming hot grilled cold noodles... where did it go?

Gone?

She couldn’t believe it.

Yang Juan searched around the chair for quite a while but still couldn’t find it.

At that moment, Elder Shi Meng, dressed in a hospital gown, walked over slowly.

"Nurse Yang, are you looking for the grilled cold noodles?"

Upon hearing Shi Meng’s words, Yang Juan immediately snapped back to attention.

"Elder Shi, did you see them?"

Shi Meng was somewhat embarrassed.

Not only had he seen them, but he had also eaten them.

Shi Meng said apologetically, "Um, I was sitting here, and the grilled cold noodles smelled so good, I ate them."

"How about this: when my wife comes later, I’ll have her buy you another portion. Where did you buy those grilled cold noodles?"

"I’m really sorry."

Shi Meng’s words surprised Yang Juan.

These past couple of days, Elder Shi had hardly eaten any meals. How could he have an appetite for grilled cold noodles?

Yang Juan now considered the grilled cold noodles to be just an ordinary dish, so she immediately responded, "It’s okay. It’s just a portion of cold noodles. There’s no need to buy another."

"No, I insist on buying one."

Shi Meng’s attitude was firm.

"I can just eat something else. We have late-night snacks for overtime work here—small cakes, instant noodles, things like that. Don’t worry about me going hungry."

Elder Shi seems rather old-fashioned, but he’s actually quite polite, Yang Juan thought.

"I insist on buying one," Shi Meng repeated. "The thing is, I want to eat more."

"Huh... What?"

Yang Juan was stunned again.

He wants to eat more?

For a portion of grilled cold noodles? Is it really that serious? Aren’t they sold everywhere?

"They sell those grilled cold noodles just outside the inpatient department, heading towards the main hospital building. There’s a small stall—the food truck is new, so it’s quite noticeable."

"You’ll see it as soon as you walk by," Yang Juan said promptly.

"Okay, thank you. I’ll call my wife; she’s about to come over. I’ll have her bring up the grilled cold noodles."

Upon receiving the answer, Shi Meng thanked her and then picked up his phone to call his wife.

"You want to eat grilled cold noodles?"

"It’s still early morning, isn’t it? Why are you thinking about cold noodles instead of breakfast?" Shi Meng’s wife sounded surprised by his request.

"Just buy it. One for me and one for the nurse. I ate hers. And if you like, you can get one for yourself too," Shi Meng told her on the phone.

"Okay, I’ll go and buy them. Two servings should be enough; I don’t feel like eating cold noodles this early."

"You’d better buy an extra serving. Don’t go eating mine later."

"I’ve already said I won’t eat it."

"Alright, alright."

Shi Meng’s wife had just come out of the subway entrance.

How strange, she thought. These past few days, Shi Meng had refused to eat anything she brought him, and he had no appetite for the hospital cafeteria food either. But today, he suddenly wants grilled cold noodles!

Luckily, the grilled cold noodle stall was very conspicuous—a brand-new food truck parked on the side of the road, set back a little.

A few people were gathered in front of the food truck buying food. It looked quite clean.

Shi Meng’s wife walked over to the food truck and waited for the people in front to finish their purchases.

"Boss, I’ll have two servings of grilled cold noodles," she said to Jiang Feng.

"Alright, please wait a moment."

Jiang Feng was busy processing the orders for the two people ahead of him.

The two customers had ordered stinky tofu.

Jiang Feng took out several pieces of black tofu and a few pieces of white tofu, placing them in the hot oil of the fryer, which was set to the correct temperature.

Initially, the tofu sank, but after a while, it floated to the surface.

On closer inspection, the centers of the tofu pieces had puffed up a bit.

They were puffed, but not bloated.

This step was also crucial. If a novice tried to make stinky tofu, the pieces might inflate like angry pufferfish when put into the oil.

Stinky tofu like that, with its internal structure damaged, would have an inferior texture and taste.

The stinky tofu Jiang Feng fried was perfect, just slightly puffed and not at all swollen.

After frying for a few minutes, he flipped the pieces over and fried the other side, ensuring every surface was evenly cooked.

When they were nearly ready, Jiang Feng scooped all the stinky tofu onto a plate.

Holding a single chopstick, he poked an opening in the center of each piece of stinky tofu.

The crisp outer shell of the black tofu split open easily with this gentle poke, revealing the tender, still-white tofu inside.

The same was true for the white tofu.

Once an opening was made in each piece, Jiang Feng ladled a spoonful of savory garlic sauce into the opening of every tofu piece.

This was crucial for the flavor to seep in.

Then he used tongs to pack all the stinky tofu into boxes, filling two of them.

He then sprinkled some pickled cowpeas into the boxes, added some chopped green onions and cilantro, and finally poured a generous ladleful of the original soup over them.

The stinky tofu Jiang Feng made didn’t have an overwhelmingly strong odor, just the natural aroma of the tofu itself.

Actually, authentic stinky tofu isn’t supposed to be overwhelmingly pungent. It’s just that years ago, a theory emerged from somewhere that the stinkier the tofu, the more authentic and delicious it was.

As a result, some vendors started adding "oli give" to their stinky tofu.

Which means adding feces.

When this was exposed years ago, people were quite shocked.

But that era has passed, and such bizarre practices are no longer found.

The stinky tofu Jiang Feng made looked extremely appetizing.

Especially the broth, with its mingled aromas of cilantro and green onions, was incredibly appetite-stimulating.

This kind of stinky tofu is best enjoyed hot.

The outer skin was fried to a crisp, while the tofu inside remained tender. The garlic sauce had seeped deep into the tofu, and the broth carried the flavors of cilantro, green onions, and pickled cowpeas.

It was intoxicating.

The two customers, having received their stinky tofu, left contentedly.

This little stall is really good, they thought. The food truck is clean, and the preparation methods are very hygienic. It gives an excellent impression.

Shi Meng’s wife witnessed the entire process of Jiang Feng making stinky tofu from the sidelines.

She swallowed hard.

"Boss, add a serving of stinky tofu for me. So, that’s two orders of grilled cold noodles and one order of stinky tofu," she said.

"Sure. Do you want cilantro?"

"Yes to everything, and add extra."

"Okay."

Jiang Feng continued to work at his food truck, unhurriedly but efficiently.

His cooking process was quite a spectacle.

Because he was confident and knew exactly what to do at each step, he appeared effortlessly in control, not at all flustered. His technique was professional—quick, precise, and steady—which was reassuring to watch.

Jiang Feng first prepared the serving of stinky tofu, then started on the grilled cold noodles.

The aroma of the grilled cold noodles wafted from the hotplate, and Shi Meng’s wife was immediately tempted again.

"Give me one more serving of grilled cold noodles. That makes three in total," she said.

In the end, she couldn’t resist the allure of the food.

As for her earlier comment like, "Who eats grilled cold noodles this early in the morning?" she had long forgotten it.

Jiang Feng finished making the grilled cold noodles.

Shi Meng’s wife, carrying the plastic bag, headed toward the hospital ward.

She didn’t eat outside, planning to enjoy her meal in the ward instead.

The inpatient ward had double rooms, but since Shi Meng was the only one in his room at the moment, she wasn’t worried about the smell of the stinky tofu bothering anyone else.

Actually, there was no need to worry anyway.

Because soon, the aroma of stinky tofu would fill the entire inpatient department.

Not long after, Shi Meng’s wife arrived at the inpatient floor of the Ear, Nose, and Throat department.

After she arrived at the ward, Shi Meng took one portion of the grilled cold noodles from her and gave it to Yang Juan, expressing his apologies for earlier.

Yang Juan waved her hand, indicating it was nothing—just a portion of grilled cold noodles.

Then, Shi Meng returned to his hospital room.

"Why did you buy stinky tofu? Who eats stinky tofu this early in the morning?" Shi Meng frowned upon seeing the container of stinky tofu in the bag.

The couple had similar temperaments; no wonder they were together.

"You were the one eating grilled cold noodles early in the morning. So don’t you dare touch this stinky tofu later," his wife retorted.

"Fine, I won’t eat it. A man stands by his word. If I say I won’t eat it, I definitely won’t."

"Hmph!"

They each took a container of steaming hot grilled cold noodles, speared a piece with a toothpick, and put it in their mouths.

Shi Meng’s face lit up with enjoyment again. "This is the taste! Awesome!"

A hint of surprise and delight flickered in Shi Meng’s wife’s eyes. "These grilled cold noodles are so delicious!"

Nurse Yang Juan, outside, also popped a piece of grilled cold noodles into her mouth and was instantly captivated by the taste. So delicious! No wonder Elder Shi wanted another portion. This flavor is incredible—even better than the grilled cold noodles from the snack street!

The three of them, in different places, savored the same grilled cold noodles, feeling immense satisfaction.

Even though it was only nine-thirty in the morning, the grilled cold noodles were so delicious that eating them felt incredibly satisfying.

In no time, Shi Meng and his wife had devoured their grilled cold noodles, leaving only traces of sauce in their containers.

"Did you get this stinky tofu from the same stall?" Shi Meng asked, eyeing the container of stinky tofu in the bag and smacking his lips.

"Of course! Would I run off to some other stall? Besides this new one, where else near the hospital entrance sells stinky tofu?"

"So it’s from the same stall that made the grilled cold noodles, huh? Let me try it for you, see if it’s authentic."

"No way," she retorted.

Despite their playful bickering, Shi Meng’s wife opened the container. They each took a toothpick and began to share the delicious stinky tofu—crisp on the outside, tender on the inside, and soaked in savory hot broth.