Chapter 540 - 374: The Ultimate Fresh Delicacy

"A cuttlefish?"

Seeing the prize catch—which had taken a full two hours to hook—dangling in the air, Erica and Jin Meiyan got strange looks on their faces. They both turned away, trying to suppress their laughter.

They even took a few steps back in perfect sync, terrified the cuttlefish might get annoyed and blast them with ink. That would ruin their outfits.

"A cuttlefish... That's good stuff."

The captain gave a thumbs-up. "You see it less in Western cuisine, but cuttlefish is a very common ingredient in our Chinese cooking. Aren't you a chef? A cuttlefish this fresh would be perfect for trying to make some cuttlefish balls."

"Give me a break," Lin Chen rolled his eyes, casually unhooking the cuttlefish and tossing it into the fish basket. "The Chaoshan region uses giant, basin-sized cuttlefish for their cuttlefish balls. This one is so small, there'd be barely any meat left after cleaning it."

"At most, it's enough for a single stir-fried dish. Are we going to make meatballs and give everyone two each?"

"I guess that makes sense."

The captain scratched his head and glanced at the time. "It's about time to head back. The whale pod others saw this morning has probably left this area by now. Looks like we'll have to wait for next time."

"Still, it's pretty rare to see a pro like you get skunked this badly. It's about as rare as catching a baby manta ray."

As someone who spent his life on the sea, he could tell with a single glance that Lin Chen's fishing movements were exceptionally practiced. He was clearly an old hand; you couldn't develop that kind of subconscious technique without at least three to five years of experience.

Chartering a boat was quite expensive. Including the round trip, they had been out on the sea for nearly four hours.

Since they weren't going to see the whale pod, there was no point in staying any longer. It was just a waste of money. Better to wait for another time.

On the way back, Lin Chen pulled out the knife roll he carried with him. The boat had a cutting board and utensils ready. He put on a show, expertly breaking down the salmon. With a few swift cuts—SHINK SHINK—he had filleted the fresh salmon into two complete, boneless pieces.

He tossed the head and bones directly into the sea, then separated the salmon belly from the back loin.

He sliced the back loin diagonally into thick pieces, the kind you often see in Japanese restaurants. As for the belly, he first scored it with a crosshatch pattern before cutting it into finger-thick strips.

While he was still cutting, the two women couldn't wait any longer. They each grabbed a thick, fatty piece of the back loin, dipped it in a bit of wasabi and soy sauce, and popped it into their mouths.

The supremely fresh salmon was incredibly sweet. It melted in the mouth like Jell-O. The spicy, subtle sweetness of the wasabi and the savory saltiness of the soy sauce amplified that natural sweetness to infinity.

"How can it be this good??"

Jin Meiyan's eyes went wide in disbelief. She covered her mouth as she chewed, feeling as if the rich aroma of the salmon oil had completely coated her entire palate. Every bite was saturated with the unique, sweet fragrance of salmon.

Even in South Korea, salmon wasn't cheap. It was considered a mid- to high-end seafood, and the better the quality, the higher the price. Ordinary people wouldn't eat it casually; it was usually something you'd go out to eat with a group for a celebration.

But compared to the salmon right in front of her, all the low- and mid-grade salmon she had eaten before was basically garbage. You could only taste something of this caliber at a high-end Japanese restaurant, the kind that offers counter-side dining or omakase.

In her entire life, she had only been to a place like that twice, and she'd spent a fortune for what amounted to just a couple of bites.

She didn't know if it was because the portions were so small, but she still remembered the taste to this day. That's right, she would savor the memory every time she thought of it.

The salmon they had caught themselves wasn't quite as fatty as what you'd get at a high-end Japanese restaurant, but its advantage was its supreme freshness. It was so sweet it was as if it had been drizzled with syrup, to the point where you couldn't believe your own taste buds.

After tasting the back loin, both women simultaneously reached for the glistening white salmon belly.

The scored salmon belly looked much more high-end, almost identical to what a Japanese restaurant would serve. Cutting it this way severed the membranes, making the belly's texture crisper and adding a more satisfying chew.

As they slurped a piece into their mouths, the rich belly left a visible, shimmering layer of fish oil on their lips, making them glisten as if they'd applied lip gloss.

Even though it was a relatively lean season for salmon, the fattiness of the belly was still on point.

The satisfaction from fat is incomparable. That one bite sent their happiness meters through the roof, and they excitedly grabbed each other's hands and stomped their feet on the spot.

Seeing how happy they were, Lin Chen couldn't help but grab a few slices for himself. He dipped them in the sauce, popped them into his mouth, and nodded repeatedly as he ate.

"You really have to eat seafood fresh. The stuff you get at all-you-can-eat Japanese buffets tastes like a completely different fish compared to this."

And this was just a common pink salmon. If it had been the top-tier contender among salmon, the King Salmon, it would have been a god-tier bite.

If eaten in winter, the belly would be so thick and fatty it would leave you speechless—truly the ultimate indulgence for a salmon lover.

Pink salmon aren't very large; they're the smallest species in the salmon family, with an average weight of about 1.5 to 2 kilograms and a meat yield of only 60-70%.

The two fillets were just enough for the three of them to satisfy their craving. It wasn't too much, but it was perfectly satisfying.

As for the captain, he had absolutely no interest in eating the stuff. He was long sick of it; the very sight of it made him nauseous.

After dropping the three of them back at the harbor and agreeing with the captain to arrange another trip when he had good news, Lin Chen drove the two women home and immediately started editing.

As he watched the restaurant take shape day by day, Lin Chen slowly began to worry.

'What kind of dishes should I make?'

'Since I'm going for a farm-to-table theme, I have to be ready to improvise. Of course, I also need to offer some fixed menu items for guests to choose from. After all, not everyone will be interested in gathering their own ingredients.'

His guests would surely come from all over the world, so the menu couldn't be limited to Chinese food. Fusion cuisine would be best. Plus, he needed to start recruiting and training staff.

His place wasn't a conventional restaurant. The staff here would need to know how to coexist with nature. The front-of-house servers would have to learn how to care for plants, and the chefs would have to learn how to use freshly sourced ingredients from the wild to spark their creativity.

To meet these conditions, he couldn't just hire a few experienced workers. He would have to conduct a very careful screening and preparation process.

On top of that, the location was extremely remote—the outskirts of the outskirts, practically in the middle of nowhere. Working here would mean spending most of their time within the farm's grounds or, at most, in Albion Town.

He planned to build a few log cabins to serve as staff dormitories. North Americans grew up in wooden houses, so he wasn't worried about them not being able to adjust.

Once the job postings were up, this phase of his work would be temporarily complete.

He wasn't in a hurry to finalize the specific dishes. He planned to go to the market and talk with the local residents to see if he could get some inspiration.

He came to the market almost every day, but usually just to buy groceries. His own stall, however, hadn't been open for over a week, and he was just paying rent on it for nothing.

As he walked in, Bella from the fruit and vegetable stall immediately waved enthusiastically and called out a greeting.

"Oh, hey! If it isn't the big star, Lin! You busy man, here to buy groceries again? When are you going to have time to make some more of your delicious desserts? We'll pay this time. Without you feeding us, everyone is dying from cravings!"

"Desserts? Haha, probably not today. Desserts take too much time. I'll definitely make some when I'm free. But even if I can't do dessert, I can make something simple. Let me take a look around first."

His goal for today was also simple: feed a round of treats to his neighbors, see their reactions, and conduct a simple verbal survey at the same time.

The people here came from all over the world and had diverse palates. It was a perfect simulation of what it would be like when he opened.

The conclusions he drew here could most likely be directly implemented.

He hadn't gone far into the market when he happened to run into the owner of the convenience store by the entrance—the wife of the guy who had given him the calligraphy copybook.

"Hey, you're here to shop so early?"

They weren't very familiar with each other, but they had made eye contact. So, out of politeness, he smiled and greeted her.

"Yeah, I couldn't for the life of me think of what to make, so I came to just browse around."

The woman held up a bag in her hand. Inside was a piece of pork belly, along with some green peppers, garlic, and other things. It looked like she was planning to make something simple, like twice-cooked pork.

"Oh, by the way, Chef Lin, let me ask you something. Do you know how to make *roujiamo*? My husband has been watching 'A Bite of China' recently, and now my daughter is clamoring for it, begging me to make *roujiamo*. But I don't know how to make the buns!"

"*Roujiamo*?"

Hearing the name, Lin Chen's eyes lit up, and he subconsciously swallowed.

'Come to think of it, it's been a long, long time since I've had *roujiamo*,'

"Of course I do. Which kind do you want to learn? The authentic kind with a plain white bun, or the crispy skin kind?"

"The crispy skin one, I think," the woman said after a moment's thought. "The crispy skin is crunchy, more fragrant, and it soaks up the juices. The texture is also relatively soft, so kids would like it more. The traditional kind isn't as appealing to children."

"I was thinking the same thing. Plus, the Crispy Skin Steamed Buns are easier to make. I was just wondering what to make for the locals to try today. *Roujiamo* it is!"

"Then you can have this meat. I'll just buy the finished product from you later. Saves me the trouble of making it myself, haha."

The woman shoved the two bags she was holding into his hands, looking like she was happy to wash her hands of the responsibility.

He didn't mind. He was going to make it anyway, so a little extra wouldn't make a difference. He went straight to the butcher's stall and bought a whole slab of pork belly with an even fat-to-meat ratio, then went to pick up some lettuce and green peppers.

The best part about a crispy skin *roujiamo* is that the flaky bun can soak up all the juices, while its texture is still crispy and fluffy. It's similar to the puff pastry on a Western cream soup. He was very confident that the locals would love the taste.

He pulled a bag of flour down from a shelf and explained to the woman without even looking up.

"There's a very simple way to make the crispy skin. It's called an oil-roux. To put it simply, you just make a paste with oil and flour, spread it on the surface of the rolled-out dough, then roll it up, flatten it, roll it into a circle, and bake it. That gives you a Crispy Skin Steamed Bun."