Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

Haruto ignored Chef Liang’s astonished stare.

While the dough was still almost too hot to touch, he scooped in a spoonful of rendered pork lard he had prepared in advance, then began kneading it repeatedly.

The pressure from his palms was perfectly controlled, and before long, the lard had been completely worked into the dough.

What had originally been a slightly rough mass gradually turned smooth and glossy beneath his hands, taking on a soft sheen. It was supple without collapsing and resilient without becoming stiff.

Once the dough was ready, Haruto wrapped it tightly in a clean damp cloth and set it aside to rest.

This would allow the starch to fully absorb the moisture and develop enough structure that the wrappers would be far less likely to tear when rolled thin.

While the dough rested, Haruto began preparing the filling.

The first ingredient he set out was hand-chopped black pork shoulder.

He had once again chosen a ratio of seventy percent lean meat to thirty percent fat, chopping everything entirely by hand while deliberately leaving the mince with a fine but noticeable texture. Too finely chopped and the pork would become dry and pasty; too coarse and it would ruin the mouthfeel.

As he chopped, Haruto had gradually worked in ginger juice and Shaoxing wine, removing the unpleasant odor of raw pork while preserving its rich natural aroma.

Beside it sat a bowl of finely minced chicken.

Haruto had selected fresh chicken breast, first tearing the meat into extremely fine strands along the grain before chopping it little by little into a smooth paste.

The pork would provide the deep, meaty foundation, while the chicken added a softer, more delicate texture that made the filling feel richer and smoother in the mouth.

Haruto mixed the chicken and pork at a ratio of one to three.

Then, holding a pair of chopsticks, he began stirring vigorously in a single direction.

His wrist drove the mixture around the bowl again and again. Within only a few minutes, the loose meat had bound together into a sticky, elastic mass that clung in strands.

It had become firm enough that a pair of chopsticks stuck upright into the mixture would not fall over.

Only then did Haruto season it with salt, white pepper, and a small amount of light soy sauce.

No more and no less than necessary.

Just enough to draw out the natural savoriness of the meat without covering the ingredients themselves.

Once the basic filling was ready, Haruto shredded some rehydrated dried scallops into fine strands and minced dried shrimp before mixing both into the meat.

Only a small amount of either was necessary to multiply the filling’s umami several times over, yet neither was strong enough to steal attention from the pork.

Next came the ingredients meant to add contrasting textures.

Haruto peeled the water chestnuts, crushed them with the back of his knife, then wrapped them in clean cheesecloth and squeezed out roughly eighty percent of their moisture.

That preserved their crisp, refreshing sweetness while preventing excess water from leaking into the filling and weakening the dumpling wrappers during cooking.

For the winter bamboo shoots, he used only the most tender tips.

They were thoroughly blanched in boiling water to remove every trace of bitterness, then diced against the grain into pieces even smaller than grains of rice.

Both ingredients went into the meat mixture and were gently folded through.

Finally, Haruto brought out the true heart of these dumplings.

Golden Broth Abalone Aspic.

Inside the storage container were translucent golden cubes resembling pieces of amber, each one glowing with a warm, lustrous color.

Haruto had begun preparing them three days earlier.

Old hen bones, pork ribs, dried abalone, dried scallops, and Jinhua ham had first been blanched to remove all blood and impurities. Then everything was brought to a boil before the heat was lowered to the gentlest possible simmer for a full twelve hours.

Naturally, Charizard had been the one watching the fire.

Throughout the process, Haruto repeatedly skimmed away every trace of fat that rose to the surface.

By the end, the strained golden broth was so concentrated that it clung to a spoon and stretched into thin threads when lifted.

Its savoriness was intense enough to make someone want to swallow their own tongue.

Haruto had then dissolved a small amount of fish gelatin into the broth and refrigerated it for four hours, allowing it to set into a firm yet springy aspic.

He cut the golden aspic into evenly sized cubes, then brought out the fresh shrimp he had already prepared.

Every shrimp had been shelled and deveined while leaving the flesh completely intact.

They were plump, glossy, and firm to the touch—clearly as fresh as could be.

By then, the dough had finished resting.

Haruto removed the damp cloth, placed the dough on the cutting board, and rolled it into a long rope of perfectly even thickness.

His knife came down in quick, precise strokes.

One dough portion after another appeared on the board, every piece exactly the same size and weight.

Then Haruto picked up his rolling pin.

His left hand continuously rotated each portion while his right pushed the pin forward at an even rhythm.

Within moments, a perfectly round wrapper appeared.

It was extraordinarily thin.

Held up toward the light, the shadows beyond could be seen clearly through it, yet the wrapper remained remarkably resilient.

The center was slightly thicker than the edges.

That way, the bottom of the dumpling would be strong enough not to burst while boiling, while the gathered edges would not become unpleasantly thick after being sealed.

Chef Liang had long since stopped working.

He simply stared.

Only now did he truly understand the old saying that there was always someone better beyond the horizon.

Haruto never slowed down.

As he rolled wrappers, he began filling them at the same time.

A wrapper rested in his palm.

He spooned a portion of the prepared meat mixture into the center, placed two cubes of Golden Broth Abalone Aspic on top, then added one whole shrimp.

His fingers blurred.

Thumb and forefinger worked together with effortless precision, creating a neat row of pleats in only a few movements.

Haruto’s speed was astonishing.

Every motion flowed naturally into the next without a single wasted gesture. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, an entire row of dumplings had appeared across the cutting board.

Every one was identical in size, shape, and number of pleats, almost as though they had been pressed from the same mold.

Each dumpling stood plump and glossy.

Through the nearly transparent wrapper, one could faintly see the pale pink meat filling, the whole fresh shrimp, and a tempting glimmer of gold inside.

Just looking at them was enough to make people swallow.

In a little over half an hour, Haruto had wrapped several hundred dumplings and arranged them neatly across trays dusted with a thin layer of starch.

The filling had been used up almost perfectly.

Haruto wiped his hands, cleaned his cooking station, then filled a large pot with water and set it over the fire.

After that, he simply leaned against the counter and waited for the contest to begin.

The soul of a boiled dumpling lay in the moment it left the pot.

Even if cooked dumplings sat for only a few minutes, the wrappers would begin to clump and soften, ruining much of their texture.

Only freshly boiled dumplings could deliver the best possible result.

Haruto swept his gaze across the competition grounds.

He spotted the Guangzhou Dumpling House stall.

The Dumpling Brothers.

Yangquan Restaurant.

His thoughts were already wandering toward which stall he should visit first once he had a chance to start eating.

The hour of preparation passed quickly.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! The Guangzhou Dumpling Contest, organized by the Guangzhou Chefs Association, is about to begin!"

The entire venue gradually fell silent as every eye turned toward the elevated stage at the center of the square.

The host stood there smiling broadly at the crowd.

"This year’s Dumpling Contest has once again brought together an incredible collection of talented chefs! Today, they’ll be serving all of you dumplings in countless styles and flavors!"

"The rules remain the same as in previous years!"

"The winner of this competition will be decided by every diner here today!"

"The contest begins now and will continue until sunset!"

"At the end of the day, whichever stall has accumulated the greatest number of returned serving plates will be crowned this year’s champion!"

"Enough talk!"

"I hereby announce that the Guangzhou Dumpling Contest is now—officially underway!"

The instant the host finished, diners surged toward the stalls they had already chosen.

The Dumpling Brothers’ stall drew the largest crowd by far.

Within moments, several layers of people had packed around it, and a long line stretched far behind them.

Clearly, the brothers’ extensive promotion over the past several days had worked extraordinarily well.

Many people had come specifically because of their rapidly growing reputation, eager to find out what kind of dumplings these famous brothers could produce.

And once customers arrived, the brothers’ Flame Dumplings gave them plenty of reason to stay.

Over at Yangquan Restaurant, however, Mao immediately ran into trouble.

Someone had tampered with the dipping sauce he had prepared.

He knew perfectly well that the Dumpling Brothers were behind it, but without evidence, there was nothing he could do.

Mao had no choice but to think of another solution.

Haruto, meanwhile, finally got moving as well.

The water in the large pot before him had already reached a rolling boil.

He lowered the heat to medium-low, reducing it to a gentle simmer rather than letting it churn violently enough to damage the delicate dumpling skins.

One by one, Haruto slid the dumplings into the water along the edge of the pot.

Once they were in, he took a ladle and used the rounded back to gently push them through the water, moving slowly and evenly so none would stick to the bottom.

The surface trembled with a mild simmer.

Pale dumplings drifted up and down through the water, gradually swelling as their wrappers became increasingly translucent.

When the water began to simmer more strongly again, Haruto poured in some cool water he had prepared beforehand.

The temperature immediately dropped, halting the boil.

He repeated the same process three times.

A gentle simmer.

A splash of cool water.

Another gentle simmer.

Another splash.

After the third addition of water, every dumpling had risen to the surface.

Their bellies were plump and rounded, and the pale wrappers had turned crystal clear.

Haruto scooped them from the pot and arranged them on serving plates.

His Golden Broth Dumplings were finished.

The wrappers were as thin as cicada wings and almost completely transparent.

Through them, the diners could clearly see the delicate pink meat filling, the whole bright-red shrimp, and the flowing golden abalone broth glistening temptingly beneath the light.

Now that the dumplings were ready, Haruto only needed to draw people over.

After thinking for a moment, he sliced one Golden Broth Dumpling open.

Golden liquid immediately spilled from the cut.

At the same time, steam carried the rich aroma of pork, the fresh sweetness of seafood, and the concentrated savoriness of the superior stock out into the surrounding air.

It was not as aggressive or smoky as the fragrance of pan-fried dumplings.

Instead, the aroma was deep, lingering, and irresistibly savory.

Anyone who caught even a trace of it immediately found their appetite stirring and their mouth beginning to water.

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