stjorthotic Chapter 24 Dining Buddies
Chapter 24 Dining Buddies
"Huh? A gourmet? Me?"
Lucius pointed to himself, and under Miss Moran's expectant gaze, he had no choice but to step aside and make way, smiling as he said:
"Miss Moran, have you had dinner yet? Perhaps..."
"Okay." Moran's answer was much more straightforward than expected.
She didn't even wait for Lucius to finish saying "Why don't we eat together?" before she bent down, holding onto the brim of her hat, and crossed the threshold.
Lucius watched Moran's retreating figure, thinking to himself, "Actually, I was just being polite."
He closed the door and quickly followed Moran.
As soon as the two entered the room, the aroma of meat wafted over them as if it had found an outlet.
"Specially processed sugar, at least five kinds of spices, and pork?" Miss Moran was clearly a seasoned gourmet, able to discern the general types of ingredients from the aroma alone.
She walked a few steps to the kitchen, her grey eyes brightening as she looked at the food bubbling under the pot lid. She turned to Lucius and said:
"Gourmet, this seems to be a unique cooking method of yours?"
"Miss Moran, you can call me Lucius, Lucius Anderson."
Lucius led Moran to a seat in the restaurant, gently correcting Moran's way of addressing him.
Then we began to organize the sources of the cooking techniques:
"This cooking technique is not my own; I learned it from... uh, a master chef, but I can no longer see that master chef."
"That's such a shame," Moran sighed softly, taking off her blue, high-brimmed hat and placing it on the empty chair beside her.
Lucius didn't explain the misunderstanding. He turned and went to the kitchen, first turning off the stove, then lifting the pot lid and looking down:
The meat chunks trembled slightly in the boiling sauce, their skin a translucent jujube red, the fatty parts translucent, and the lean meat with clear texture.
He used his fork to pick out a piece of braised pork, placed it on a small plate, blew on it twice, and took a bite.
The fatty parts melt in your mouth, the lean meat is tender but not dry, the sauce has a perfect balance of salty and sweet, and the aftertaste carries a faint aroma of brandy after it has evaporated.
"Even though it's a budget version of braised pork, I would give it a perfect score of ten under these conditions."
Lucius gave himself a small compliment, and just as he picked up his fork to look at the second piece, Miss Moran's soft voice came from behind him:
"Mr. Lucius..."
Lucius turned to Moran, chuckled dryly twice, and explained:
"This is a little bit of a privilege that comes with being a chef."
He used tongs to pick out the spices, divided them into two plates, placed one plate of braised pork in front of Miss Moran, and smiled:
Please enjoy your meal.
Miss Moran nodded, took the knife and fork beside her, cut it into bite-sized pieces, and put it in her mouth.
!!!
As Lucius watched Miss Moran swiftly eliminate the "enemy" before immediately diving into the next battle, a sense of pride as a chef welled up within him.
His eating style was much more extravagant; he would spread braised pork between two slices of white bread and then take a bite.
As Miss Moran cast a questioning glance, Lucius swallowed the food in his mouth and explained:
"This is called a roujiamo (Chinese hamburger), or perhaps a Horn-style burger would be more appropriate."
"A hamburger?" Moran mimicked Lucius, mixing bread with braised pork and eating it... Clearly, the chef was right.
The two finished dinner at 7 p.m.
Lucius took the last empty plate from the table and put it in the kitchen sink. Moran put his blue, high-brimmed hat back on and stood in the doorway waiting for him.
After the two went downstairs, they stood on the stone steps in front of the door. The evening breeze blew from the direction of Bank Street, carrying the faint salty and damp scent of the Hull River estuary in the distance.
"It's a pity I was limited by the ingredients, otherwise I could have done better," Lucius said to the twilight from the doorway.
He looked at Moran; the two had only met twice, yet a relationship dubbed "dinner buddies" had been established without them even realizing it.
"Limitations of ingredients..." Moran seemed to be thinking of something, but ultimately shook her head.
She looked up at Lucius and said in a tone that was several degrees warmer than the bookstore:
"Mr. Lucius, I think I should apologize to you for my attitude this afternoon. As compensation, you can make an exception and buy two books from the bookstore every day."
This access permission applies at any time. Of course, if you have specific search needs for the bookstore, you can also let me know.
Lucius did not refuse.
"Okay," he replied as readily as Moran had agreed to freeload a meal.
Watching Moran's figure gradually disappear into the distance, Lucius said to himself:
"I should earn more money."
…………
The next morning, Lucius again chose to take a public carriage to East York University.
The steam tram tracks only covered the industrial and residential areas of Hull.
Tram tracks are prohibited around the university town. Professors voted against it at a college meeting, arguing that the noise from the trams would interfere with academic research and students' exam preparation.
He tossed the driver a penny and found a window seat in the carriage.
As he approached the history department building, he opened his pocket watch. It was 7 a.m., an hour before the group meeting at 8 a.m.
Lucius quickened his pace, pushed open the door of the research office, and saw Daisy there organizing the mid-term report she had already written.
"Good morning, Lucius," Daisy greeted him with a smile, looking quite cheerful.
"To be honest, with your help yesterday, I finished writing the mid-term report in just one afternoon. I even took a break from nine o'clock, which is something I haven't done in a long time. This morning, when I stood in front of the mirror, my dark circles had almost disappeared."
"Looks like you won't be able to apply for workers' compensation," Lucius replied humorously.
"That little bit of compensation for a worker's injury can't make up for a young girl's lost youth," Daisy countered, picking up on Lucius's teasing.
"Lucius, how did your interview go? I noticed yesterday's lunch wasn't as delicious as usual. Did I put my hopes on your treat?"
"Don't worry," Lucius said naturally, taking the neatly arranged papers from Daisy and stacking them up for her. "The interview went surprisingly well, after all, I'm a history student at East York University."
"That's true," Daisy never doubted the value of this identity.
Their conversation ended with the arrival of Professor Anthony, who was holding a thick stack of file folders in his left hand and frowned slightly as he watched the two students chatting and laughing.
"Daisy, let me see your interim report." Without saying a word, Anthony walked directly to one end of the mahogany round table, sat down, and placed the file folder on his left.
Daisy confidently stepped forward, presenting the prepared interim report with both hands, then stepped back two steps to stand with Lucius and await the professor's review.
"It barely qualifies as a paper," Anthony concluded.
He placed the report on his right, then picked up the file folder on his left and handed it to Lucius, smiling:
"Here are the two most recent rubbings of the inscriptions. You just need to translate and annotate them, and Daisy can handle the rest."
He turned to Daisy, his tone shifting back to the stern one he used when speaking to the older members:
"Your workload is still too small. As an honors degree student, what you really need to develop is the ability to write a complete paper, from original documents to formal dissertations."
"After Lucius finishes translating the rubbings of the inscription, you'll integrate the above information into the interim report. I want to see your work on the final draft, which is due next Monday."
"Yes," Daisy said with a wry look, hoping he could translate faster.