Octopus Online Feeding Guide

Shillington Day is finally here.

The other parts of the Kelexi Continent were unknown to Richel, but the entire City of Liberty boiled up overnight.

This is the most important festival of the year. The goddess of harvest bestows abundant rainfall and warm weather here, giving them the best reward for a busy year.

Piles of wheat and ripe and exploded pods were placed on the field, and all kinds of vegetables and fruits were pickled.When the sky was just dawn, every household, from all directions, heard the tragic cry of pigs.

Richel covered his head in the blanket.

It was too harsh, one after another, except for the quietness of hotels and restaurants, every family killed all the pigs they had raised for a year.

Blood and internal organs can be made into black sausages, and meat can be dried or smoked. Poor people have no spices, so they have to marinate the meat shortly after killing.

The next month will be the coldest winter of the year. After winter, summer will come. If the curing technology is not good or the storage is not good, their mouths will only taste stinky pork in the next year.

Richel sat up impatiently.

"Isn't it closed today?" Adrian lay beside him, hugging his waist with a sleepy face.

"It's noisy."

He yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily. The weather was cool and the room was dimly lit. It was obviously suitable for sleeping, but there was a lot of hooting.

"Last night, I should have asked Chelsea to help put a curse on the room." He muttered and lifted the quilt and got out of bed, his toes just touched the ground, his waist and abdomen tightened, and he was hooked into his arms.

Turning over, Adrian pressed his whole body, supported his head with one hand, and sank his elbows into the soft quilt. With the other hand, he began to study the material wrapped in the loose nightgown.

"Call out too, and disturb them to death." He always keeps silent, endures hard work, and occasionally grunts a few times. The trembling ending makes people feel pity, and makes people want to bully.

"You treat me like a pig?" Richel was dissatisfied. Seeing that the collar was getting bigger and bigger, he quickly grabbed his hand and pulled it out, while clenching his own collar.

But he didn't have eight hands, he guarded the upper side, but didn't guard the lower side.

The two legs kicked wildly in a hurry, but it gave people an opportunity to take advantage of.

He whimpered, his body trembled heavily, his face flushed, and he simply buried his head in the pillow.

Adrian's voice just waking up was still full of laziness, he watched him trembling calmly, and smiled slightly when he heard this, "Honey, you are cuter."

Really like a pig!

Richel grabbed his wrist, raised his head and bit him viciously.

Adrian held up a circle of impressions in front of his face, and he could now tell which teeth marks were made by his canines.

"My dear, you are too cruel."

"Who is cruel...my legs..."

By the time he woke up again, it was already noon.

For half a day, nothing was done.

Richel rubbed his waist, and just sat up and slammed his head into the quilt in front of him.

The price of taking a bite of an octopus is to let oneself know what is the limit of human body expansion.

Every time he likes to deliberately say things that make people hate it, but he doesn't have a long memory.

When he came to the kitchen, Adrian had already neatly placed the ingredients and utensils that should be prepared on the roof of the carriage.

"When did you become so capable?" Richel was surprised.

Hastings beside him bent over him.

"Sure enough, I can't expect too much from you." Richel pouted.

Adrian pushed the people into the carriage, and Hastings drove the carriage silently to the largest Dawell Abbey in the city.

The carriage was walking in the spacious and bright streets of the inner city, and even the sound of the horseshoes and the rolling of the axles became much crisper and more pleasant.

On the square at the entrance of the monastery, many small vendors selling snacks have gathered, and there are also many ethnic groups performing arts and hanging out here, which is very lively.

Behind the square, there is a monastery higher than the surrounding buildings, built of smooth and beautiful limestone.

Hastings drove the carriage to the backyard, and a monk led them into the monastery, across the courtyard, and opened the door. There were already many cooks in the kitchen preparing food.

The air smelled of anise and lavender, and, if you sniffed carefully, a hint of sweetness, the scent of sage that the cook was stirring with a heap of chopped spices.

"It's been a long time since I smelled this." Adrian sniffled, resisting the urge to sneeze.

A little refreshing.

"You guys are the last ones, only the table in the corner is usable." The monk's face was a bit stinky, and he was a little worried, "The dinner will start when the bell on the top of the monastery tower strikes seven times, will you be able to serve the food on time? ?”

"Okay." Richel cleaned up some odds and ends on the table, wiped it twice, and then let Hastings and Adrian put things on the table by category, and the table trembled a few times left and right. Under the eyes of everyone, he finally managed to maintain his stability and would not move.

"Can this table hold things?" Adrian was skeptical.

"The life in the monastery is simple. I heard from the nuns that they all need asceticism." Richel looked at the old utensils and furniture in the kitchen that had been used for many years, and turned on the stove that was neglected by other cooks. It rusted.

"There's only so much we can offer."

Adrian curled his lips in disdain, and the monk glanced at him, saying: "It is your honor to prepare the Schillington Festival dinner for the monks in Liberty City."

Richel held the octopus and whispered in his ear: "If the dinner is excellent, the monks will introduce the restaurant to many nobles and knights when they preach on weekdays."

"Is there such a thing?"

Richel nodded, and rolled up his sleeves confidently, "So we have to do it well. There are new foods brought by the pirates. Make sure they haven't tasted them."

He took out the ingredients he brought and arranged them one by one. Nearly [-] monks prepared almost [-] servings of each dish. There were three double-boiler stoves here.If everyone used it, it would certainly not be enough, but no one used it except him.

On the contrary, there were quite a few people queuing in front of the four ovens outside the kitchen.

Adrian leaned against the door with his hands folded, looking boredly at the remaining eleven chefs and his assistants.

Adrian has a little impression of these people, and occasionally the city lord will invite him to eat in these restaurants. Most of these people are from the inner city, and they can be regarded as the best restaurant cooks in Liberty City. There are at least ten of them. Years of cooking experience.

"You just came from the City of Liberty, right? I haven't seen you before." A bearded cook was kneading the dough, his loud voice echoed in the kitchen, and he said to Richel in the corner.

He pounded the dough on the chopping board a few times, his assistant gave him the crushed garlic, and the cook began to shape the dough.

Richel was struggling to wash the pot, and when he heard this, he raised his head and smiled, "Yes, our restaurant is on Drishers Lane, you can come over and sit down when you have time."

"New guy? Same as that guy."

People on the other side are pounding mint leaves, and the smell itself can't be smelled at all in the rich, steaming kitchen.

At this moment, he was wearing an apron and sitting on a stool, and he chinned Nunu, who was busy pounding sage in the corner, and said with a smile, "Which monastery did you recommend, and how long have you been learning cooking?"

"I see that you don't have any spices. Can the processed meat be eaten later?" Another tall and thin cook came in from the door.

"Meat?" Richel looked at him suspiciously, and sure enough, he saw him come in with a dozen processed chickens.

Richel had a vague premonition.

A cook licked the thick soup on her fingers, and said while stirring in the pot: "Don't tell me, I remember that there is a restaurant in the city that is very special, and it can make delicious chicken without any spices." Come."

"I just used a homemade sauce, and I know that one day I will figure out the recipe for that sauce." The sitting chef spoke in the same rhythm as pounding leaves.

"It's a pity that it's in the outer city." The tall and thin cook shook his head, opened the slit of the chicken in his hand, began to stuff spices into it, and sewed up the opening neatly.

"You actually believe the words of people from outside the city. In their mouths, unspoiled food is already the most delicious thing on the mainland."

There is a strong scent of bay leaves in the air, which is a light floral and woody scent, fresh and hearty, take a few more breaths, and you can taste its unique slightly bitter taste in the nose, mixed with other large scents. Large and small spices, complex and fascinating.

"You can't say that. Look at my dough, isn't it white? It's made of wheat flour ground from a stone mill sold by people from outside the city. You can't feel its existence when you put it in your mouth."

"They also invented adding sourdough to fresh dough. In this way, the whole dough can be enlarged and it tastes very soft," said the bearded cook.

"Won't it be sour?" The cook wondered.

"How hard can it be as hard as the black bread they eat? Those can be used as plates for serving dishes." The thin tall cook said, he finished the chicken and started to roast it on the fire, and the assistant went out to get the chicken again.

"Can it be as soft as the white bread that the old men have eaten?" The cook who pounded mint leaves added, staring at the snow-white dough without any impurities before, feeling unwilling and sour in his heart, "If you buy so much wheat at such a high price, don't compare it to the food of us."

A person outside the door dragged a cart of pork. He stood up in the surprise of everyone, unloaded the pork on his table, and smeared other spices and mint juice in his hand one by one.

The white fat meat was mixed with red lean meat, fat and thin, and ribs were arranged in it, and many people swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"How much did you spend, 10 gold coins?" The bearded cook leaned over and shouted. Originally, he was confident that this year would definitely open the eyes of these monks. They would be full of praise for his cooking skills, far surpassing others.

But now, this is no match.

At least there is another one at the bottom, so it won't be too embarrassing.he thought, looking over to the equally astonished Richel beside him.

"How much extra did the monastery pay you?" the cook who roasted the chicken asked jealously.

"It's all the same." The skinny chef said, it would be extremely difficult to deduct more money from those monks.

"If I don't make this money next year..." The rest of the words were in the steaming mist in front of the cook's eyes.

"Don't worry, the money will be earned back in less than a month." The skinny chef smiled triumphantly.

As long as the monks are full of praise for his pork, the nobles will not despise the expensive pork, and they will all want to eat it when the time comes.

"You are really confident." The cook who had been silently listening to them laughed. He put the smashed sage on the table, stroked his beard, and took out a large piece of bright red meat. .

"Beef?" It was the first time Richel saw it.

Chickens and ducks can lay eggs. Killing chickens and ducks is equivalent to losing the money earned from eggs. Fortunately, as long as they are placed in the mountains and forests like pigs, they don’t need to be fed much food and they grow faster. Eating chickens and ducks is a part of the daily diet of ordinary people. Among them, it is already considered a luxury.

Pigs, commoners can only eat fresh ones at this time of the year.Hayle can often eat it, but according to what he said, eating pork while pinching his nose is just making himself guilty. If he can't satisfy his appetite, isn't the blood delicious?

And cattle, horses, etc. can be regarded as good helpers for the common people. Let them eat beef and horse meat, it is better to cut off a piece of their own meat.

Richel had already tasted the tenderness of the beef.

If you have the opportunity, you must go to the imperial capital and taste the food there.

"Beef, have you ever eaten it? Fried steak is the most fashionable and luxurious delicacy in the imperial capital." The bearded chef looked at them contemptuously, "pork has a strong smell, and only commoners and landlords eat it in the imperial capital. But , there is no beef, you can smell it, you don’t need too many spices, just fry it, it’s top-notch delicious.”

All the chefs' eyes were on him.

"My God, how much does it cost?" the bearded chef shouted, the bread in his hand was even more incomparable.

"It's not expensive. I asked my former owner to sell me a live cow. He directly asked me to get it. It was just shipped two days ago and slaughtered at noon. The meat is still very fresh."

Everyone can't help admiring the manpower, material resources and connections spent in it.

"Have you ever worked as a chef in the imperial capital?"

"Of course." The chef shaved his beard, "I work as a chef in a marquis manor that you can't even think of one or two extravagant luxury."

They suddenly stopped thinking about comparing each other.

It's just a dinner for the monks in the monastery, and you don't have to gamble your entire fortune.

What's more, if you gamble your wealth, it may not be able to compare with the value of beef.

Bajiuzi looked at the mob and sneered.

He wanted to use the taste of the steak at this dinner to let the upper-class nobles in the entire Liberty City know about his restaurant.

Adrian didn't expect that the people here would respond more to each piece of meat, and he poked the person beside him with his elbow.

"What meat are we preparing?"

"Not ready." Richel looked at him in blank dismay.

"Aren't you ready?" The chef who was slapping the pork chops stopped and exclaimed exaggeratedly, "Then what are you going to do? The monks have been eating fish and vegetarian food for a year, and they expect to have a meal today OK."

"Otherwise, what are they asking us to do," another chef chimed in.

This is a reciprocal situation. Shrewd monks don’t need to spend too much money and invite them to cook. If the taste satisfies them, they will “inadvertently” promote their restaurant later.

Don't underestimate the power of these people. Every word they say represents the will of God. I don't know how many pious people will believe their recommendations.

At least in the next few months to a year, there will be a large number of nobles swaying silver coins in their restaurants, earning a lot of money.

Richel thought the same way, but on his table, there were peas, mushrooms, onions, corn, tofu...all vegetarian.

"Careless, I didn't know that they would break the precept again." He really honestly prepared the corresponding ingredients according to the bag of copper coins given by the nun.

He originally thought that he didn't earn a single word from her, but instead posted some upside down, which was considered an investment, but he didn't expect other people to be more ruthless.

What about being devout to the Lord, monks?