Chapter 109: Creative Critiques

After Bai Renzong propped his chin in his hand and watched Han Jiayi leave, he began to observe the kitchen. For some reason, the chefs there looked at him with a certain subtlety, as if they were actors eyeing a director, eager to showcase their talents.

“They all know you’re with the International Gourmet Association now,” Han Jiayi said abruptly, setting down bread and sauce in front of Bai Renzong with a smile. “Everyone’s hoping to cook something for you one day.”

“I have no objection to that,” Bai Renzong teased. “But did you ask them if they’re ready for my criticism? Their boss cried when I scolded her last time.”

“I—I… that day was…” Han Jiayi blushed deeply. “I had just watched a tragedy the day before and was a bit sensitive. It wasn’t because I’m mentally weak…”

“Sure, sure.” Bai Renzong nodded, amused. “But I think it’s a good idea. Since they’re your staff, they should at least survive my baptism of fire to be able to handle Michelin inspectors. They can’t always rely on you.”

“I’ll tell them,” Han Jiayi nodded, then wrinkled her nose at him. “But don’t be too harsh, okay?”

“I always speak honestly,” Bai Renzong replied calmly. “Now, hurry up—I’m hungry.”

Han Jiayi shot him a doubtful glance, then turned back to the kitchen to get busy.

Soon, with a loud “thump,” Han Jiayi placed a plate of stew before him.

A colorful mound of Provençal ratatouille was piled high on the plate, reminiscent of the dish in *Ratatouille*, its vibrant appearance immediately whetting the appetite.

“Mmm…” The aroma of the stew wafted toward him, and Bai Renzong closed his eyes, sighing in delight.

“There are also side dishes: Hawaiian-style roasted chicken leg and crispy fried cod strips. Here are three sauces—garlic sauce, tartar sauce, and mustard sauce—to pair with the chicken and fish,” Han Jiayi said with a smile. “And finally, some bread.”

She paused, then explained, “I made the Provençal ratatouille myself, the others were prepared by the rest of the kitchen staff.”

“Good.” Bai Renzong nodded, then took a bite of the star dish: the Provençal ratatouille.

Eggplant, bell peppers, zucchini, tomatoes—all roasted to perfection in the oven. The vegetables were tender but not mushy, retaining their unique chew and crispness. Their aroma mingled with the sweet and sour sauce, while black pepper and thyme provided just the right accent to bring out the vegetables’ fragrances. The base sauce harmonized everything into a cohesive whole.

The base sauce revealed hints of pumpkin, onions, tomatoes, and the leftover trimmings from the vegetables used in the stew. It was pleasantly sweet and sour, thick and rich.

Bai Renzong couldn’t help but scoop up a piece of bread, dipping it into the sauce before taking a hearty bite.

Since the base sauce was somewhat dry and couldn’t soak into a baguette, Han Jiayi provided soft toast instead. Spread with some sauce, each bite blended the aroma of vegetables with the bread’s fragrance, offering a new and delightful flavor.

“Brilliant…” Bai Renzong sighed.

Han Jiayi, standing beside him, held back a smile, finding his little “meow” sound oddly endearing.

Next, Bai Renzong sampled the chicken leg.

Roasted to a crisp exterior with tender, juicy meat inside, each bite burst with rich juices and a distinctive smoky aroma from the charcoal grill, delivering a satisfaction vegetables alone could never provide.

The cod strips themselves were subtle in flavor, but when paired with the three sauces, they rivaled the other dishes.

Still, even though the Provençal ratatouille was a purely vegan dish, it shone brilliantly, making the roasted chicken leg and cod strips feel more like mere fillers to satisfy hunger.

“Overall, quite good,” Bai Renzong said as he used the last piece of bread to mop up the remaining sauce from the ratatouille. “Personally, I would be fine if you only served this Provençal ratatouille.”

Han Jiayi giggled to herself—he was enjoying it so much, eating everything and even wiping the plate with bread.

“But as for the others…” Bai Renzong glanced over at the chicken leg and cod strips. “Let’s start with the dish pairing.”

Pointing at the cod strips, Bai Renzong said, “The cod doesn’t quite fit here. Its presence is weak—it neither provides the fullness of the chicken leg nor the impact of the ratatouille. Having it or not doesn’t seem to make much difference. This is purely from a dish pairing perspective. As for the rest…”

He turned to Han Jiayi. “Call over the chefs who made these two dishes; I want to speak to them directly.”

Han Jiayi nodded and called out, “Huihui! Lao Hu!”

A stout man and a young woman with short hair, around twenty-six or twenty-seven, approached Bai Renzong.

“This is my current head chef, Su Hui,” Han Jiayi introduced. Then she turned to the man about 1.8 meters tall. “This is Hu Xin. He’s usually in charge of sauces.”

She added, “In a western kitchen, each chef usually handles a specific part—one prepares sides, another sauces, one handles the meat, and so on.”

“I see.” Bai Renzong nodded, then curiously asked, “Who made the roasted chicken leg?”

“That would be me!” Su Hui nervously raised her hand.

“The roasting is excellent. You can taste the charcoal aroma, and biting in releases abundant juice. It doesn’t taste roasted but almost like it was fried,” Bai Renzong evaluated. “Also, you seasoned the chicken a bit heavily to go with the ratatouille. It might be slightly salty on its own but fits well in the set.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Su Hui exclaimed, secretly thrilled and touched. He noticed! He noticed! This must be the happiness of a chef! No wonder Jiayi likes him so much…

She felt her eyes grow moist and hurriedly blinked them away.

“All in all, you’re worthy of being head chef. Your skills and ideas can rival Jiayi’s,” Bai Renzong said. “If you add Jiayi’s creativity, you could become a chef who stands on your own.”

“I’ll work hard!” Su Hui said, full of determination.

Nearby, Han Jiayi suddenly felt a pang of bitterness. What was that? He praised her like this, yet he criticized me the first time we met.

“Now, about the cod…” Bai Renzong shifted his attention.

Hu Xin tensed up immediately. “That was me!”

“Well, putting the set aside, this cod is quite good on its own,” Bai Renzong said. “Fried to a crisp outside yet tender inside, the fish melts with just a press from the palate and tongue. Even though it’s fried, it’s not greasy; biting into it releases broth rather than oil. I guess it was specially treated before frying?”

“Yes! I first seared it quickly with a torch, then flash-fried it over high heat!” Hu Xin nodded.

“The timing is well-controlled,” Bai Renzong approved, then dipped his bread knife into each sauce to taste them individually. “Garlic sauce, tartar sauce, and mustard sauce—all freshly made. The garlic sauce seems to use soy sauce, tartar has parsley leaves and Parmesan, and the mustard sauce… is that wine?”

Hu Xin nodded. “Yes! Because it’s French mustard sauce! French mustard often includes a bit of white wine or Burgundy. It’s less harsh but adds a special flavor.”

“Ah… learned something new,” Bai Renzong exclaimed. “In any case, all three sauces are excellent.”

Hu Xin visibly relaxed but inwardly trembled. The man caught all the secrets…

These sauce secrets were his own small tricks developed over the years. He never expected the other to detect them all with just a small taste. No wonder he’s the man who satisfies the boss; that palate is truly formidable.

“But,” Bai Renzong’s tone shifted, and Han Jiayi rolled her eyes beside him, “here comes the critique…”

“If it were me, I’d roast the chicken leg a bit drier, making the skin crispier,” Bai Renzong said, looking at Su Hui. “The set’s texture is too soft overall. The vegetables in the ratatouille and the cod are relatively tender, so the chicken leg should add some firmer, crispier texture to enrich the layers. Otherwise, the whole meal lacks bite.”

Su Hui nodded thoughtfully. She hadn’t considered that.

Then Bai Renzong turned to Hu Xin. “As for the cod strips, the amount of sauce overwhelms the fish. There are only six strips total but three sauces—that’s too much. It’d be better to just spread a little sauce on each piece. Also, like the chicken leg, as the only fried item, the cod should provide a stronger crispy texture to the set.”

Hu Xin nodded in understanding. Han Jiayi quickly smiled and said, “Alright, alright, thank you both. Go back to work.”

After they left, Han Jiayi shot Bai Renzong a dissatisfied glance. She had thought he only praised her before criticizing, but it turned out he treated everyone the same. Did he really like her? Why no special treatment?

“What’s wrong?” Bai Renzong looked at her, puzzled. “You said I could criticize freely.”

“Hmph, nothing!” Han Jiayi huffed. “You just sit here in the shop! Eat some dessert before you leave…”

She then returned to the kitchen, which had become a hive of activity.

“It’s incredible how he caught everything with just a little taste!” Hu Xin said, eyes wide in fear. “I feel like a naked culprit standing before him for judgment! That tongue is terrifying!”

“No, I don’t think so,” Su Hui said dismissively. “For me, him recognizing the small techniques I used in the dishes is a great happiness.”

“Yeah… that’s true,” Hu Xin agreed. “Being praised like that really feels good.”

“Boss, next time let me try too!” “Me too, me too!” The other kitchen staff clamored.

“Oh, alright!” Han Jiayi quieted them down. “Let’s focus on work first! The dinner rush isn’t over yet! Do your best, and if he comes again, I’ll consider letting him taste your dishes too.”

But deep down, Han Jiayi was reluctant. No, she had to find an excuse to refuse…

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