THIS LOVE DOESN'T HAVE LONG BEANS(ENG)

Chapter 23

Plawan saw a strange look in the chef's eyes.

Chef Aob looked gloomy and annoyed to the point where it was obvious. Whether because he was thinking too much or not, Aob Uea who was standing in front of him no longer looked as calm as before. At least, not in the way he spoke. The young man stood still, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"I think I better warn Chef Kluea to stay away from you for a while," said the man as he approached him until only the two of them could hear their voices. He couldn't help but look confused. Why is that?

"Why is that, Chef?"

"Kluea only taught you one day and you already made perfect fried eggs like this. If he teaches you often in the future, wouldn't you surpass him? Kluea is also a competitor, right? It's strange that he is  helping you."

"Oh, but aren't you strange too, Chef."

"Partly because Chef helped me with the knife and pan technique," the young man answered hesitantly, pretending to admire the person in front of him, but in reality, he was trying to shift the blame and get rid it of himself.

"Will you help me, Chef?"

The person in front of him was silent for a moment before returning to a blank expression and moving closer to look at the fried egg again. He took the plate and examined it carefully.

"Make sure you make a delicious stir fried basil. No matter how delicious the fried eggs are, if the basil stir fry isn't edible, you'll be eliminated."

Chef Aob said as he put down his plate of fried eggs and turned his attention elsewhere before walking away from him to another nearby table. Plawan took a deep breath. It would be better if the chef just left. Why does he find so much fault in everything?

The young man took a deep breath to encourage himself.

Plawan plans in continuing to make the stir-fried basil. Even though there were already crushed chilies and garlic in the refrigerator, he decided to pound them again to get the best aroma and taste. He shifted the mortar and readied himself, positioning his body properly to avoid wrist pain.

He pounded the garlic until it was crushed and removed the skin.

He didn't peel the garlic first because the skin would fall off when crushed. In between, he glanced at the other contestants. He didn't really know what food each of them had made, because during the break, he only saw them making stir-fried basil and there was no sign of who made it.

James seems to have made the stir fried basil first.

Plawan himself doesn't know what is right, but he followed what Kluea had  thought him. If he had done it himself, he would  have definitely made a mistake. The young man scooped the garlic from the mortar into a bowl and moved on to pounding the chilies. He pulled out the stems according to his friend's instructions, then pounded them until they were enough to stir-fry for two plates.

Then he continued by plucking the basil leaves.

Kluea taught him that basil leaves did not need to be plucked perfectly for them to be beautiful. Some leaves, because slightly torn and broken would help release the aroma better. Luckily, he was able to find wild basil, which he hoped would please Chef Aob. Plawan looked around, making sure he had all the ingredients, then turned on the stove.

He waited for the pan to heat up and added some oil.

He doesn't like oily stir-fried basil, preferring dry stir-fried basil. After a while, he added garlic and stir-fried it, following his repeated practice rhythm. He then added the chilies and stir-fried them for a while until their pungent aroma filled the air. The young man tried hard to hold back a sneeze.

After mixing well, he added the ground pork.

He chose ground pork which contains less fat. The layer of fat on ground pork will make it tender when eaten, in contrast to pure red pork which is more chewy. After stir-frying it until evenly mixed, he immediately seasoned it with fish sauce, seasoning sauce, and a little sugar. He seasoned it as he had done dozens of stir-fried basil before. He added basil, stir-fried it, and turned off the heat.

Satisfied, Plawan spooned the stir-fried basil onto a plate.

The color of the basil was just right, not black nor withered, the garlic and chilies are not burnt, and the ground pork is cooked evenly. Plus, there's no excess oil and the color is appetizing. He had no doubts about this competition. At least he did his best. The young man then went to scoop up the rice and prepared to serve it.

"Shia!!"

A soft curse sounded as he was about to walk past the next station. He turned around and saw James looking frustrated in front of the pot. A sizzling sound came out and the face of the person in front of the stove turned pale. He may have made a mistake. James immediately turned off the stove.

"What's wrong?"

Plawan accidentally stopped by his competitor's station without realizing it. He whispered, and James turned to answer. Even though they are competing, the situation in front of them will probably make them forget everything.

"The pan is too hot, the eggs are all fluffy."

The young man leaned forward to take a look and understood the problem. It seemed James chose to fry his eggs last, and when he put the pan on the fire, he didn't control the heat well, so the pan was very hot. It is more suitable for frying soft and crispy omelettes than the Western breakfast omelettes that Chef Aob gave as a challenge. He looked at him and felt a little worried.

"Change to a new one. You still have time."

Plawan whispered while glancing slightly at Chef Aob. The other party didn't pay attention to him, so the young man took the opportunity to chat with his friend secretly.

"I'm out of eggs."

James said in a frustrated tone. Upon closer inspection, he found two more fried eggs on the table. The first one had a broken egg yolk, and the other one looked overcooked. Plawan understood now. At first, the oil may be at the right temperature, but after frying a few eggs, the temperature becomes too hot to control.

"Oh."

Plawan answered. That's when he made his decision. The young man walked with a plate in his hand to scoop rice at the station where Chef Aob was standing watching everyone. He opened the rice cooker, put it in a bowl, pressed it, and put it on a plate. Meanwhile, he secretly observed the behavior of the head chef who was standing not far away.

'He has a good personality. He even chats with his competitors.'

What kind of mood is he in? Plawan looked at the chef doubtfully, but it seemed like his mood wasn't that bad either. Maybe he could try negotiating.

"Chef..."

The other party did not answer but turned around to look at him.

"If we have eggs left after making them, can we share them with our friends? Will our points be deducted? Is this against the rules?

Chef Aob turned to look at James' station, thinking for a moment. Not long after, he seemed to understand the situation. Chef Aob laughed softly, more like a sneer in his throat than a real laugh. His eyes turned silent, twinkling, as if trying to catch him in a lie, digging deep inside.

"Okay, go ahead. If you think helping your friend will save both of  you together. "