Chapter 3685

Shiler's process of researching new recipes was not going smoothly. He had originally thought his culinary skills were already quite good, and he had watched quite a few corresponding videos on short-video software, but in actual practice, it was completely different from what was in the videos.

The processing and cooking of poultry look simple but are difficult to do in practice. Making something edible is simple; making it taste good is difficult. Chickens are like this, and geese and ducks are even more so. Furthermore, these two types of poultry are even more difficult to prepare.

Ducks have less fat, the meat is leaner, and the skin is thinner. A slight mistake in processing can make them turn out very poorly. Geese have a peculiar flavor; if not handled well, they can be very gamey, and not everyone can get used to eating them.

Mainly, Americans don't really eat these two types of poultry, and the authentic, old-school American Captain America is naturally the same. To make it palatable for him, the meat cannot retain any off-flavors, but at the same time, it must have a meaty aroma and umami—it is simply a hell-level difficulty.

Actually, these things are fine; Shiler has some experience in poultry processing. What actually stumped him was the final step: how to retain the crispy skin while keeping the meat succulent and juicy during the roasting and burning process.

If the heat is too high, the skin is crispy, but the meat becomes dry; if the meat is juicy, the skin becomes soft and not crispy enough. From improving the breed of the goose to the structure of the stove, nothing Shiler tried worked. He was starting to suspect that the feng shui in America was bad.

The stove he used was a brick stove he built himself, right next to the kitchen on the first floor of the sanitarium. Besides the backyard, this hotel also had a side yard—to be precise, a side passage connecting the backyard to the front yard. The original owner of the hotel had sealed off this passage, using it only to store some sundries. After Shiler bought the hotel, he cleared out the sundries and opened a door in the kitchen leading to this side yard. Thus, he had two kitchens, one indoor and one outdoor.

The indoor kitchen was mainly used for simple dishes, including Western food and cold plates; outdoors, Shiler built a rustic earthen stove specifically for stir-frying. This time, he built a roasting stove next to the earthen stove for roasting ducks and geese.

Actually, the electric roasting ovens used by professional restaurants for roast duck and goose can also be bought in America, but Shiler felt that the stove of the roast goose place he liked best was one they built themselves, and it wasn't roasted—it was truly burned with fire, and the taste was simply superb. Therefore, Shiler would rather build a stove himself than buy a ready-made one.

Even though that boss was very generous in teaching Shiler how to build the stove, and Shiler did indeed build an identical stove according to his instructions, he just couldn't roast that same flavor.

Many people think that Chinese food is hard to learn because everything is written as "appropriate amount" or "moderate," while Westerners like to be precise to the gram, so their success rate in cooking is higher. But this is basically limited to basic dishes; anything more advanced doesn't work.

Shiler went to the restaurant he frequented and recorded every move the boss made while roasting the goose; all the ingredients and formulas were precise to the milligram. It could be said that everything was exactly the same as the other person's, but he just couldn't make that flavor.

Through observation, Shiler discovered that although the structure of the stove was the same, fire is truly too unstable. Even if the same wood is used and the timing of adding firewood is the same, the flames produced are completely different. Which time it burns well and which time it burns badly depends entirely on luck, which also leads to different produced items.

To improve the success rate, one must practice extensively, get to know the temperament of one's own stove, and be able to adapt on the fly during the roasting process. Many times, it's just based on feeling; there is simply no precise formula to speak of.

Now most of the preliminary work is done; what remains is constant practice and adjusting the details of each step. This is destined to take some time.

The problem is that Steve's birthday is coming up soon, and there really isn't much time left. Since empiricism doesn't work, Shiler can only choose a more scientific method. He called Peter and Stark over.

The few of them stood in front of the stove in the side yard. Shiler told the two of them how this stove worked, and then took a duck to demonstrate for them.

While the duck was cooking, Stark couldn't take it anymore. He said, "This thing is already fragrant enough; what exactly are you still pursuing? Are you trying to make the dishes we all brought look like crap?"

"That doesn't need me to set it off," Shiler curled his lip and said, "And don't flatter yourselves; crap doesn't explode. My point is, the skin of this thing isn't crispy, which means there's a problem with the heat. You need to find a way to help me improve this roasting stove."

"Hold on on that," Peter said, "I don't care if his skin is crispy or not. I'm really hungry, Doctor. This thing is too fragrant. Is it roasted yet? Can I eat it?"

Peter kept looking into the stove, swallowing his saliva non-stop; he was clearly very hungry. Stark also cleared his throat and said, "In order to continue our culinary career, Peter went to Nick's yesterday and got another portion of the Spider Totem's power. You also know how hungry he was when he first became Spider-Man. We have to let such a fine young man eat his fill..."

Shiler knew he wanted to eat it himself but was embarrassed to say so. He added some firewood to the stove and said, "Don't be impatient, it's almost ready. But I must declare to you that this is not the final version, nor does it represent my culinary skills."

"You overestimate us, Doctor. In your words, our taste buds, which have already been corroded by syrup and industrial flavorings, really can't taste any subtle differences in flavor. There is an upper limit to how good it can taste for us. No matter how well you make it, we probably won't be able to tell the difference."

"Have you ever thought that I also need to eat it myself?" Shiler said, crossing his arms and leaning against the stove, "There isn't much food that dares to be eaten on that night, and even less that is edible. If I don't make it taste good, am I just supposed to go hungry all night?"

Peter was silent for a moment. His raspberry pie had improved slightly recently, evolving from a crematorium to a crime scene. He didn't know if it was because he filled it with too much stuffing or what, but several times the jam inside the pie exploded directly, and the scene looked like someone had disemboweled the poor fruit pie. If there were police in the baking world, he might have already gone to jail for being charged with first-degree murder.

"I'm already close to success," Stark patted his chest, making a thumping sound. He said, "I can already pan-fry burger patties now, and I'm adjusting the cheese formula. It won't be long before I can assemble them..."

"Tony, have you ignored the most important question?" Peter moved a small stool and sat right in front of the roasting stove, staring longingly at the roast duck inside, then said, "What about the beef?"

"What?"

"Beef patties. Have you tried making beef patties?"

"What's there to try about this?" Stark said, somewhat puzzled, "I've seen how those food trucks pan-fry beef patties; isn't it just rolling the meat filling into a ball, slapping it on the griddle, and frying it to medium-well?"

"What kind of beef do you plan to use? Frozen from the supermarket?" Shiler said while mixing sauce on the side counter, "How do you choose the fat-to-lean ratio? What butter to use? How does Steve like his done?"

"Oh God!" Stark started wailing again, "I always feel like if it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't have so much trouble!"

"Can't be helped," Peter rubbed his face and said, "Everyone likes Steve very much, and everyone values his 100th birthday very much; everyone is pulling out all the stops to try to make him happy. Even Seeing Natasha has gone to learn how to cook. If we don't work harder, we will definitely be outdone."

"This is involution," Shiler said, "But I can't be said to be the one who started it. Do you know? The bacon in the bacon risotto Clint is going to make was cured by him personally, and the applewood used for the wood was air-shipped from his hometown! The recipe was passed down to him by his grandmother!"

Stark turned to face the wall, repeatedly banging his forehead against it, and then said, "I'm starting to regret choosing the simplest cheeseburger. But I don't even know what specialty dishes my hometown has..."

"Weren't you born on Long Island?" Shiler said, "Why not make the world-famous Long Island Iced Tea? Or seafood barbecue?"

"The things you mentioned aren't any harder than a cheeseburger," Stark sighed and said, "And I don't like eating those things myself. Those seafood restaurants on Long Island are more outrageous than the last; last time I passed by there and wanted to pack a snow crab, when the bill came, I wanted to let them throw the crab back into the sea."

"Speaking of which, do you know the story of Clint and Seeing Natasha?" Stark seemed to have suddenly thought of something, rubbing his hands together excitedly and saying, "Those two definitely have something going on."

Shiler and Peter leaned in. Stark said triumphantly, "You definitely don't know that Seeing Natasha's decision to completely defect to S. H. I. E. L. D. back then was because of Hawkeye. The time they had a thing between them was even earlier than me and Seeing Natasha."

"So what exactly happened back then?" Shiler asked curiously. He remembered very clearly that when he first came to the Marvel side, he actually didn't meet Black Widow. The first S. H. I. E. L. D. agent he came into contact with was Coulson, and at that time, Black Widow's whereabouts were unknown. Could it be that she was getting hot and heavy with Hawkeye at that time?

But that time was too early; Stark hadn't become Iron Man yet. So it was more likely to be a little later, that is, when Seeing Natasha sneaked into Stark Tower as Stark's personal secretary. It's just that at that time, Shiler and Stark weren't that familiar, so he didn't know what had happened between them.

"You know Seeing Natasha once disguised herself as an ordinary person and even got hired as my personal secretary, right?"

"Of course, and then you two also..."

"Don't mention that!" Stark said, "I was drunk at the time, and I didn't know she was Black Widow. She also kept using this incident to ruin my reputation..."

"Alright, alright, go on."

"As far as I know, Seeing Natasha was driving home from work at the time, it seems like she was passing by Fifth Avenue. Clint was mistaken for a jewelry thief by the police for some reason and was being chased. He got into Seeing Natasha's car and was then charmed by her. Seeing Natasha saw that his skills were good, so she wanted to use him to deal with Iron Man, so she seduced him just like she seduced me. That kid really caused me quite a bit of trouble."

"What did he do?" A smile appeared on Shiler's face. At that time, he had just arrived in Marvel and hadn't yet gained a firm foothold, and that time happened to be an eventful period; many well-known plots were unfolding at the same time. Even if he knew that certain plots would appear in this time period, he didn't have the ability to be in two places at once and couldn't watch them all.

Actually, some plots weren't that important, but missing Iron Man having bad luck was definitely a major loss. But it doesn't matter; isn't there an oral account from someone who experienced it personally?

Stark clearly saw Shiler's intention of watching the fun; he snorted coldly and stopped talking. As it turned out, the roast duck was ready at that moment. Shiler took the whole duck out of the stove and took Peter directly to the kitchen to eat, and even locked the door between the kitchen and the yard.

"Hey!" Stark shouted while climbing through the window, "Leave some for me! You two bastards!"