Tear A Path 166 Catfish

It was the most horrible thing Zhao Wei had experienced. He'd had to literally sc.r.a.pe off the goo off his body with a knife.

The goo that defended the beast from attacks also defend him from any water he tried to rinse himself with.

It took hours for him to clean himself off, especially in those more sensitive areas. Now that he'd added it to his list of kills, he vowed that he would never try to hunt it again, that was until the events of the night.

Being the kill of the day, it obviously beat eating several day old snake meat. And despite the exhaustion from the hunt, cooking did give Zhao Wei a little reprieve.

It was one of those things that, despite the physical exertion, would energize Zhao Wei instead of draining him for energy.

And really, now that Jeff was here, he'd had to let him cook several of their meals which actually made him a little jealous. The man was that good, unfortunately he only knew how to make noodles, on the other hand, they were the most beautiful noodles any of them had ever eaten.

Zhao Wei had tried to learn this technique as soon as Jeff offered to cook. Unlike it's simplistic design, the round noodles weren't actually round, the noodles surface was covered in minuscule cuts that were almost invisible especially after it was cooked.

Taking a step omg of noodles which were still raw, Zhao Wei could see it glimmer like a crystal rod. Each string of noodle was meticulously hand crafted by Jeff himself. Hence the small portions and select customers, of course he would never honestly admit this in front of the guy.

Many nights had them spending hours in the back of the restaurant carriage practicing this craft.

And really, it was a lot of training for Zhao Wei as well. The thing about cooking was that it first and foremost requires the most delicate touch, focusing greatly on the control of the chef's hands.

Under the weight of the shackles, each phase of the cooking process became quite challenge.

Just the act of mincing meat troubled him a lot in the beginning. Before he'd swing the knife down with abandon allowing it to nicely chop up any tough sections.

Now he needed to switch between using his speed to cut the meat and controlling it just as the knife reached the board. If not, with his strength combined with the weight, he would be mincing the table together with the ingredients.

It was a fight in itself just to reach the meat of this beast, but all the more worth it as Zhao Wei saw the pure gleaming flesh underneath that felt like pudding to the touch.

He let it sit on the side for a while as moved towards the oven. Inside was the a thin bread that was true to the Dracarian style of baking. But Zhao Wei put it inside a little longer until the bread was baked to crispness.

Taking it out, he crushed the pieces into crumbs before mixing it in a little bowl. His hands danced around the restaurant kitchen as if they were possessed.

Salt and dried oregano, just enough so that the natural flavors of the catfish were drawn out.

Some finely chopped garlic and onion to give it that little umph that would send the flavors dancing on the tongue.

And some chilli and pepper seeds, nicely crushed to bring the heat.

Last but not least a good spoonful of c.u.min for that nice rustic charm.

It didn't take a recipe, this wasn't a method, it looked more like a dance than the traditional cooking. Zhao Wei held either side of the bowl's rims, swinging the mixture forward just enough so that the ingredients could almost spill away from the the bowl's edge.

But then the hands would stop, just for a millisecond so that the all those crumbs would impact against the side of the bowl and turn over like a breaking wave. Red, cream, white and brown mixed together in an almost delirious array of colors, yet so impossibly enticing.

As Zhao Wei looked up, he smiled as he watched everyone huddled next to a small fire. With three carriages, Zhao Wei created a semicircular barrier around them. And despite the lack of actual protection, it did give them some form of comfort. As if the fact that they were in the middle of an almost boundless and empty dessert didn't matter, this place was their own.

In the next moment he returned his focus towards the preparations, with his knife he cut out several perfectly sized and sectioned fillets.

He'd understood for a long time that giving everyone an equal portion would just lead to bloodshed. Especially in this little group of ragtag companions whose most notable skills usually centered around taking a life.

With every piece, he would meticulously handle them and coat them in his mixture until not a single bit of the flesh could be seen outside the layer of seasoning and coating.

Up till now, there was still no smell, nothing special or notable that fired up appet.i.tes from the sensations given off from cooking alone. But that was just because it hadn't touched oil.