Chapter 50

Chapter 50 – Perfect Candied Sweet Potatoes

“What’s going on? What graduation banquet?”

Zhu Chenchen was completely confused, vaguely feeling like she had suffered a huge loss. She immediately sent a barrage of voice messages in the “One Big Loving Family” group.

Unfortunately, no one replied.

She then ran to the Lion’s Head group and bombarded it as well. Zhu Nan and Wang Zhaoshan, probably having laughed enough, quickly explained things to her in the group.

“We’ve found Chen Ran again. She’s gone to the countryside to cook a big banquet. We came to check it out, and it turns out—hahahahahaha.”

He really wasn’t trying to keep laughing, he just couldn’t help it at all.

What?!

Zhu Chenchen felt like the sky was falling!

Let her make sense of what’s going on.

Chen Ran, who rarely takes on a full banquet, had gone all the way to her grandma’s remote Qiantang village, and her grandma had even invited Chen Ran to cook the banquet at her house.

And all of this was done under her—Zhu Chenchen’s—name? And she, the person supposedly being celebrated, not only clearly couldn’t make it in time for the banquet, she didn’t even know about it?

She’s already in her second year of college! They’re still using her name to throw a graduation banquet, and they didn’t even inform her? Does no one feel guilty?

That’s... that’s Ran-jie’s banquet food!

And just then, Zhu Nan was still chattering in the group: “Wang Zhaoshan, Qiu Xian, and I were actually worried. Like, how could they let us in for no reason, right? But now it’s perfect! I just showed them that I’m friends with Zhu Chenchen!”

“Exactly! I even have that group photo from the last cooking competition!”

“And remember when Zhu Chenchen went to the police station and was spotted by Chen Ran, and her mom sent her to her grandma’s place in the countryside to feed pigs? I still have the video she posted!”

Zhu Chenchen’s wide noodles were soaked in tears.

Everyone was joyfully using her name to get into the banquet cooked by Chen Ran, and she, the so-called host, was trapped over a thousand kilometers away in her college dorm...

“No way! I’m calling my grandma right now. I won’t let any of you in!”

She was on the verge of crying to death!

To top it off, because the banquet was in the afternoon, she received the news while she was in the cafeteria.

Eating her bland rice bowl, she couldn’t help but wonder what Ran-jie was making for the banquet.

There had to be lion’s head meatballs, right? Maybe plum pork ribs too? As for the rest...

Because she was studying at a university thousands of kilometers away, she hadn’t tried a single dish from the new menu!

And everyone in the group completely ignored her protests and had already started discussing the dishes.

“I heard there’s roasted chicken this time? I didn’t get enough of that fried chicken leg from the White Swan. Now they’re even serving whole roast chicken?”

“Really want to taste what Chen Ran’s roast chicken is like…”

That was from Gao Shuxian. Ms. Wang had even pulled her and Shunzi into the Lion’s Head group.

“I’m going right now!”Shunzi had the highest initiative!

After Gao Shuxian left the White Swan, he quit too. After all, as an experienced waiter, where couldn’t he find work?

Staying at the White Swan meant continuing to be discriminated against by the Gao family.

He even tattled in the group chat: “Shuxian-jie, make sure you stay hidden. I think your family’s looking for you everywhere. All of us here have been asked several times already.”

The day after the lion’s head meatballs were handed out, Gao Shuxian ran off with the revenue.

With that small amount of money and her previous savings, Gao Shuxian planned to find a place to settle down first, and then slowly look for another job.

The key was to stay far from home.

“Mhm, don’t worry about me, I’m fine, they won’t find me.”

Gao Shuxian quickly blended into the group’s vibe and soon brought the topic back to Zhu Chenchen.

“Chenchen, you really can’t come back? Your family’s going all out—getting Chef Chen to cook... doesn’t that mean you could ask for any dish you want?”

Zhu Chenchen refused to engage and considered leaving the group chat.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore and quickly called her grandmother, who always said she loved her the most.

As soon as the call connected, she heard clearly that the background at her grandmother’s end was extremely noisy.

“Grandma! What are you doing? How could you throw a graduation banquet and not tell me?!”

Zhu Chenchen’s grandmother replied calmly, “Aren’t you at school? If I told you, could you even come back? Last time I called, you said you were doing something called a ‘kill’ and had no time to chat with your grandma…”

The old lady professionally jabbed at her first, then continued, “You greedy girl, your news is quick. Don’t worry, National Day break is coming soon. I’ll save a chicken for you, vacuum seal it and send it over!”

Zhu Chenchen was somewhat appeased.

Just earlier in the lion’s head group, she saw a video forwarded by Qiu Xian, originally posted by Xiao Xiao (140 jin). The roasted chicken in the video looked amazing!

Although she couldn’t eat it fresh out of the pot, if they sent it via SF Express, it’d arrive in about two days.

Those who went to the banquet probably only got one or two pieces of meat at best, right? She could have an entire chicken to herself!

But... maybe she could go bolder…?

“Grandma… how about you send me two chickens!”

As soon as Zhu Chenchen acted cutesy with that line, she heard her grandma’s voice gradually fade.

“Hello? Hello? Chenchen? What did you say? Grandma can’t hear you… connection’s too bad, I’ll hang up now.”

The old lady smoothly hung up. Beside her, Shu Jianmin struggled to wipe the smile off his face.

“The menu looks fine. Shall we get started?”

Shu Jianmin was just about to leave when the old lady suddenly grabbed him.

“Xiao Shu, can I request a dish?”

In rural banquet catering, it was common for people to change dishes even after the menu was set. Shu Jianmin had seen it plenty.

“Sure, what dish would you like to add? I’ll just need to see if it’s feasible and whether we have the ingredients…”"The ingredients aren't a problem! I've already prepared everything, all homegrown!"

Zhuo Chenchen's maternal grandmother was already seventy-two this year and had a sweet tooth. However, the old lady was slightly plump, so her family usually didn’t let her eat too many sweets.

Now, seeing sweet and sour pork on the menu, her craving for sweets was stirred again!

There was one dish she had been longing for a long time. Unfortunately, in this rural area, there wasn’t a good enough cook, and she could never find an authentic version.

"To be honest, I've been craving that one bite of candied sweet potato... I’m from the Northeast and married into this place. Around here, it's called 'hongshu' [sweet potato]," the old lady said, her eyes lighting up, "Back home, at banquets in the old days, there was always a plate of candied sweet potato on the table! Your chef is so skilled, surely they can make it better than the local cooks!"

When the old lady had a serious craving before, she even ordered candied sweet potato at the village’s little restaurant. Sadly, the sweet potato wasn’t sweet or fluffy and couldn't even pull a proper sugar thread.

"Alright, I’ll go ask for you."

Candied sweet potato is found in both Shandong and Northeastern cuisines, so theoretically Chen Ran could definitely make itThe technique of “oil-bottom syrup immersion” was something that, even though the system had directly transmitted it to her, Chen Ran didn’t dare to recklessly jump into making a large batch right away.

She absolutely had to test it out first.

Back when she was with the Chen family, she’d heard people mention this technique—just hearing about it had made people suck in a breath of cold air.

As everyone knows, caramelized dishes generally involve two steps. The first step is properly preparing and frying the ingredients; the second step is simmering the sugar syrup and coating the ingredients with it.

For this type of dish, the most critical factor is controlling the heat. Only at a specific temperature—when the syrup is transitioning from liquid to solid—can it form those signature sugar threads.

So, the system stating that this technique could upgrade her heat control skill was absolutely on point. Caramelized dishes are all about precise temperature control of the syrup.

Using water to cook the syrup results in a smoother melt and longer, finer sugar threads. Another method—cooking the syrup purely in oil—is simpler, but the syrup’s consistency is harder to control, and the resulting threads tend to be coarser.

But the oil-bottom syrup immersion method was much harder than both.

This technique combines both steps of a caramelized dish into one!

You heat a pot of oil—frying the ingredients on the surface while simultaneously simmering syrup at the bottom. The ingredients on top must fry to doneness, while the syrup below must reach the perfect consistency at the same time.

Moreover, there’s an extra challenge when using this technique to make caramelized sweet potatoes:

When frying sweet potatoes, the pieces don’t float!

So, while the syrup is simmering beneath, you must carefully control the sweet potato pieces to keep them suspended in the oil layer and prevent them from touching the syrup below.

As all the techniques unfolded in her mind, even Chen Ran—whose skills were all at A-level—had to admit: this technique was truly hard!

But her eyes lit up, and she tightened her apron again.

It’s precisely because it’s difficult that it’s meaningful to take on the challenge!

After cooking several banquet meals over the past few days, the other assistant cooks were already very familiar with Chen Ran’s dishes. At the moment, there were still more than two hours before the official banquet began—she had about half an hour to test things out.

She found a separate small stove, weighed a few options, and selected a suitable iron wok.

Although the reward for today’s system task was to upgrade her heat control skill to S-rank, Chen Ran had always felt that, even without the reward, that would be her fastest-improving skill anyway.

Back at Swan House, she’d fried over a thousand jin of small crucian carp and veggie fritters without rest. And just a few days ago, she’d perfected her roast chicken recipe—all of which required extremely precise control of heat.

Especially with her past frying experience, now holding the sweet potatoes—cut into irregular wedge chunks—she could already visualize exactly how they’d turn out after frying.

“These sweet potatoes are nice... I’ll drop them straight into the oil later…”

Off to the side, Brother Liu heard Chen Ran muttering to herself and instinctively lightened his movements, even whispering to Auntie Wang, “Take it slow, looks like Chef Chen is really focused.”

Auntie Wang, on the other hand, didn’t take it seriously: “Come on, it’s just caramelized sweet potatoes. You think that’s hard for Chen Ran?”

Brother Liu didn’t respond—he just kept watching Chen Ran carefully.

When Chen Ran had first arrived, he’d asked her whether he could watch her chop and cook. After getting her consent, he made a habit of observing every chance he got.

Being able to watch a chef of this level cook—this was an opportunity you couldn’t buy.

No matter how difficult the dish, Chen Ran usually made it look effortless. So if today she was even muttering to herself and mentally rehearsing before starting—just how hard must this technique be?

While Brother Liu was still observing intently—Chen Ran began to move!

Normally, caramelized sweet potatoes should be blanched and coated in starch before frying. This step prevents them from softening, shrinking, or turning black in the short window between frying and pulling the sugar threads.But if using a technique like oil-bottom syrup infusion, the sweet potatoes would stay in the oil throughout the entire process—fried and then immediately coated in syrup—skipping the need for blanching or dusting with starch.

This is the ultimate state of texture for candied sweet potatoes!

Without blanching, the sweet potatoes become softer and sweeter, with a texture more like chestnuts than soggy and watery.

Skipping the step of removing them from the oil and letting them cool also means the syrup will cool more slowly once coating the sweet potatoes, which allows for a longer window to pull sugar threads.

So—into the hot oil go the sweet potato chunks!

These homegrown sweet potatoes are exceptionally beautiful, red-fleshed inside, and under high-temperature frying, the golden-red color intensifies. A light sweet aroma rises lazily from the pot, teasing everyone’s appetite.

Auntie Wang chuckled from the side, “See? I told you—there’s no dish our Chen Ran can’t make!”

To prevent the sweet potatoes from sticking to the pot or clumping together, Chen Ran kept stirring the chunks with her spatula.

Gradually, the sweet potatoes were fully cooked, and that golden-red sweet scent filled the air.

“All right, next step is to take them out and coat them with syrup.”

Because of Chen Ran’s earlier hesitation, Shu Jianmin still felt uneasy and had come over specifically to watch her make this dish.

Seeing how perfectly the sweet potatoes were fried, he started to relax.

But just as he did, in the very next second, he saw Chen Ran pick up a small bowl of white sugar and pour it straight into the oil!

“Ah?”

“Wait!”

“Oil-bottom syrup infusion!”

Amid all the gasps and exclamations came the excited and distorted voice of a middle-aged man.

Wang Zhaoshan had somehow slipped in unnoticed.

“It really is oil-bottom syrup infusion!”

Seeing the confused looks around him, Wang Zhaoshan explained, “Oil-bottom syrup infusion, also called oil-bottom syrup technique, is where syrup is cooked at the bottom of the pot while food is deep-fried on top—everything finishes in one go, all in the same pot.”

Making syrup has always been the hardest part of candied dishes—just a second too early or late can ruin it. The extra challenge of this method lies in the fact that while the sweet potatoes are frying above, the chef can’t even see the condition of the syrup below!

You could say, this technique elevates ordinary candied dishes into an art form, while also pushing the chef’s control of heat and timing to the extreme.

As the white sugar entered the oil, it disappeared instantly, like snow in water.

But everyone present knew how to cook. They all understood that the sugar had sunk to the bottom and was now slowly heating and caramelizing into syrup.

Liu-ge came over carrying a plate, holding his breath. Just as he was about to set it down, Wang Zhaoshan took it from him.

“With temperature control this precise, it deserves a pre-warmed plate.”

He poured a bowl of hot water and set the plate atop it to raise its temperature, perfectly matching it to the oil-bottom syrup-infused candied sweet potatoes.

Wang Zhaoshan couldn’t help thinking—if he had the ability and the right to open a restaurant for Chen Ran, even if it were just for this oil-bottom syrup technique, he’d specially order a whole batch of heat-retaining serving dishes!

The entire makeshift kitchen stood in sharp contrast to the bustling courtyard outside.

No one dared speak. Every eye was fixed on the spatula in Chen Ran’s hand… and on her face.Wang Zhaoshan’s probing gaze fell on Chen Ran’s face, trying to spot any trace of nervousness or worry.

But there was none—only excitement!

Yes, all the conversation just now, even Wang Zhaoshan personally bringing her the plate—Chen Ran hadn’t noticed any of it.

Her full attention was on the pot in her hands!

Look—the oil temperature, the color, the lively golden-red sweet potatoes, and the syrup at the bottom she couldn’t see but that was slowly changing color…

No—she felt like she could see it!

With “oil-bottom glazing,” the key is that the sweet potatoes must be fried to the perfect doneness just as the syrup beneath them reaches its optimal state.

It was now!

Chen Ran held her breath. Just a moment ago, she had been gently stirring the sweet potato pieces. Now, she suddenly flipped the spatula downward!

In an instant, the sweet potato chunks were driven downward into the bottom of the pot. Through the oil, you could only vaguely make out the shape.

Yes, even at the final step, this technique depended entirely on the chef’s intuition and experience!

Off to the side, Wang Zhaoshan didn’t even dare to breathe. But he saw a smile spread across Chen Ran’s face.

At the tip of the spatula, there was a slight resistance. It was faint—but it traveled up through the spatula and into her hand.

It was the syrup at the bottom of the oil rejoicing—telling her, gleefully, that it had reached the perfect temperature, ready to bind and merge with the sweet potatoes.

It was time!

Chen Ran grabbed the wok and swiftly poured all the oil into the prepared container. Then, she rapidly stirred twice with the spatula, plating the perfectly syrup-coated sweet potatoes.

Only then did she notice Wang Zhaoshan nearby, surprised: “Uncle Wang, you came too?”

Wang Zhaoshan hadn’t expected that after loitering around for so long, she’d only just now noticed him.

But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

There are many ways to evaluate a caramel-coated dish—but the most universal and straightforward standard is just one:

The sugar threads.

He carefully picked up a piece of beautifully golden-red sweet potato with his chopsticks.

The color, the aroma—flawless.

The syrup on this piece of sweet potato gleamed like the finest glass.

Wang Zhaoshan gave it a firm pull!

Normally, sugar threads need to be pulled gently to stretch long and thin. A forceful tug often causes them to snap.

He pulled hard deliberately—wanting to test how this “oil-bottom glazing” technique compared to traditional methods of making sugar-threaded sweet potatoes.

But... the sugar threads didn’t break at all!

Wang Zhaoshan instinctively held his breath again. Holding the piece of sweet potato, he slowly walked toward the edge of the tent. Even after walking four or five meters, the sugar threads still hadn’t broken!

Everyone present was thrilled. Shu Jianmin quickly ran over and lifted the curtain, watching as Wang Zhaoshan, holding up the sugar-threaded sweet potato, walked backward all the way out the courtyard gate.One step, two steps, three steps...

The sugar threads still hadn’t broken!

He carefully stepped backward, holding the piece of sugar-threaded sweet potato high.

And the courtyard, which had just been filled with bustling voices, suddenly fell silent.

A few children ran over, trying to see where the other end of the sugar thread was, but were quickly pulled back by their parents.

Wang Zhaoshan kept moving backward.

The piece of sugar-threaded sweet potato in his hand was perfectly colored, sweet and fragrant. Now removed from the dim kitchen, under the refraction of sunlight, it looked like a flawless piece of amber—stunningly beautiful.

And the transparent sugar threads trailing from it tugged at everyone’s hearts.

Finally, when Wang Zhaoshan had retreated as far as he could, all the way to the courtyard gate, the gleaming sugar threads broke off in the breeze.

The courtyard seemed to suddenly have its mute button lifted—voices erupted all around.

“Damn, that pulled so long!”

“This sugar coating is incredible! Are they serving this dish today?”

“Who took a video? Send it to me—I need to see that again!”

Only Wang Zhaoshan stood there, holding the sweet potato chunk with its broken sugar threads, carefully examining it in the sunlight.

He knew that if there hadn’t been wind in the courtyard, those sugar threads might have stretched even longer.

He no longer hesitated and put the piece into his mouth.

The sugar shell was crisp and fragrant, the sweet potato tender and smooth. The sugar didn’t stick to the teeth, and the sweet potato was rich without being cloying.

It was a perfect sugar-threaded sweet potato.

He stood in the courtyard, while Chen Ran still stood inside the slightly dim kitchen. From his angle, he could see Chen Ran with her arms crossed, standing upright, her expression partly hidden in the shadows—difficult to make out.

But he knew—this was the mark of a perfect chef.