The Wasteland Survival System and Dogs

Chapter 111: Mashed potatoes

Someone has entered the door.

At the moment when both Jing'an and Old Popsicle increased their vigilance, a familiar voice came from outside the house.

"Sir? Aisha? Can you hear me? Because the tavern is a bit idle, so I'll come earlier and bring food."

It's Jasmine.

Jing An's brows raised slightly, and he couldn't help but remember what Jasmine had said before.

Now that the food delivery has started, does that mean... it's close to one o'clock in the afternoon.

This is too fast.

However, I tried to run back and forth in the mezzanine space, and then reflected on myself for a short while, and it was actually this hour. Jing'an turned his head, trying to find something that could be used for reference, but in the end he couldn't find such a thing at all.

Being indoors, Jing'an cannot predict the time by observing the angle of the sun, so it cannot immediately determine whether Jasmine is correct.

But no matter what he thinks, there is no need for this guy to deceive him.

What's more... The old popsicle didn't smell the taste of other people.

In this way, the passage of time into the mezzanine space may be slightly different from the ordinary material world.

It was just a simple exchange with Guan Hu, and even timed it with a pocket watch, which was only about half an hour long.

But in the material world, it has been postponed to near the afternoon.

While thinking about it, Jing'an jotted down an important point in her heart.

If you still need to try to enter the mezzanine space next time, you must be prepared for time.

Thinking of this, Jing'an got up and opened the door.

He stood on the edge of the door frame and just saw a dim yellow light from far and near. I saw Jasmine holding an oil lamp in one hand and a large wooden box in the other.

Seeing Jing'an's figure, Jasmine couldn't help showing a happy smile on her face.

"Sir? Are you awake?"

"Um."

The wooden box on hand was as tall as Jasmine, and with such an exaggerated length, it was not difficult to see the difficulty of Jasmine's actions. After a brief hesitation, Jing An stepped forward slowly and took the wooden box from the opponent.

After starting, he couldn't help but glance at Jasmine with the slight precipitation of the hand.

The pub is not close here.

They didn't wait for more communication, but they heard a creak. The door belonging to Aisha was pushed and pulled open, revealing Aisha, who was rubbing her sleepy eyes, and poked half of her head out of the door.

"Is it time for dinner?"

Now that Aisha has woken up, there is nothing to wait. Jing An waved to her and said softly.

"Rinse and prepare to eat."

After tidying up the room, tidying up the tables and stools, the last three people and dogs gathered in Jing'an's room.

Pulling the sliding door aside, Jasmine took out the steaming dishes.

Mashed potatoes, smoked fish, dried bacon, and a whole piece of apple pie that is as thick as a fist.

"These are my specialty dishes. Today, Master Hart felt a little uncomfortable and didn't come to supervise the work. So I misappropriated the inventory, and you can just let your stomach eat!"

The speech that seemed to be a rich native, reveals an inexplicable sense of childishness. Jing'an nodded, before reaching out, he filled a large bowl of mashed potatoes.

Under the bright yellow background, the scent of butter, which is uniquely buttery, was engulfed by the heat and turned into a milky white smoke. Just inhaling this smell made Jing'an taste the sweet and greasy spice.

The feed is sufficient.

After realizing this, Jing An picked up a whole piece with a spoon and slowly sent it into his mouth.

The sweetness wrapped around the outside is the first reflection.

In such a cold and windy climate, apart from alcohol, only the pure sweetness like honey is left to make people feel sincerely comfortable.

Under this refreshing sweetness, there was a sweet smell with full stamina. The thick taste made Jing'an raise her brows slightly, and muttered softly.

"……milk?"

At the same time, the soft texture, which is different from ordinary mashed potatoes, also surprised Jing'an.

There is no trace of the grainy characteristic of starch. Instead, it has an elastic touch like gelatin. The strange taste can be tasted in the mashed potatoes, and there is a little curiosity between Jing'an's eyebrows and eyes.

And such a strange appearance emerged from his face, and at the same time it also attracted the attention of the old popsicle and Aisha-they were all competing with bacon, and naturally they didn't know the taste of mashed potatoes.

Although Jasmine on the side didn't understand what Jing An was talking about, he had already guessed how Jing An was thinking based on his facial expressions.

Full of confidence is outlined from the corner of her mouth, and meanders upward.

"Sir, doesn't this taste good? You know, this is a secret technique that I came up with with my sister. I wouldn't tell most people!"

Upon hearing this, Jing An turned his head and cast a questioning glance at her.

As if she had received some inexplicable encouragement, Jasmine's freckled little face began to flush slightly, reflecting the color of shyness and excitement under the yellow light.

"First cook the potatoes half-cooked. Be careful. Don't cook the innermost heart completely, otherwise the taste will not be so good."

"Afterwards, put them in cold water and soak them for a while. This will also make the peeling process easier. Just put them on your hands and rub them gently."

"Then, it's the most important process."

Jasmine straightened her chest and took out a small wooden spoon from her waist under the watchful eyes of Jing'an and her group.

"When the potatoes are cold, my sister and I will scrape the potatoes with a wooden spoon and rub them into a paste. This is the secret of our secret mashed potatoes."

"And that's why you can't boil the potatoes until they are fully cooked. If they are all boiled to a soft and sturdy appearance, you won't be able to make such a dense taste.

"After that, just re-mix the butter and milk in it while heating it, and it's done."

It is indeed a very novel approach.

Jing An lowered her eyes and caught a glimpse of Jasmine's exposed hands.

But it was only a little older than Aisha, but the palm of her hand was already too thick. Calluses and scars are intertwined, and it is not difficult to see the hardships of her daily life.

With just a simple dictation, Jing'an can also perceive the complexity of the process-how to use a wooden spoon that is not very sharp for half-baked potatoes?

Obviously it could be simply perfunctory, but Jasmine did not do so. After clearly perceiving this, Jing An couldn't help but speak softly.

"……thanks."

Jing'an can also express her thoughts directly in the simple northern language.

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