1986: My Happy Life in Provence

Chapter 37 What did Ronan experience in Provence?
The braised beef was finished before dinner even started.

The Provencals shared the meal cleanly, swigging the wine and biting off the meat; Vieri even licked the crumbs from his plate.

Many people present wanted to do the same, but only Vieri, who was still a minor, did it without violating etiquette.

At that moment, they completely forgot to leave a piece for their owner Louis who came home late.

"I missed out on eating dumplings and the braised beef in soy sauce. Does that mean I have no affinity with Chinese food?" When Louis got home and learned the bad news, he sat on the sofa with a sigh.

"No, no, no. Ronan has prepared two dishes today, and another one is being cooked. You will be able to taste authentic Chinese cuisine soon." The aroma of braised beef in soy sauce appeared in Freddy's mouth again.

Although he has never eaten Chinese food, the delicious ones are authentic.

He vowed that for a long time to come, he would talk about this magical "Chinese food journey" wherever he went. This is what a gourmet should do.

Louis couldn't help but go to the kitchen to see the progress of another Chinese delicacy, but was sternly driven out by Leah at the door:

"Don't come in and eat secretly anymore. No one is allowed to enter the kitchen before the meal is served!"

These people's cheating behavior seriously affected the chefs' cooking work, and she couldn't even turn around.

Louis sat back on the sofa indignantly and warned everyone fiercely:

"No one is allowed to snatch Ronan's food from me later, or I'll poke your eyes with my fork."

Old Carl lit a cigarette and looked towards the kitchen expectantly:

"We can only promise to give you the first bite, and the rest depends on your own ability. Food is like women, if you miss it, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Louis became more and more excited.

What does the delicacy called "saliva chicken" taste like?

In previous gatherings, once the first cold dish was served, everyone would move from the living room to their seats, chatting and drinking while waiting for the main course to arrive.

But today, eight cold dishes including cheese, pizza, salad and olives were all laid out, and still no one moved.

They looked relaxed, talking and laughing, but their ears were always alert, waiting for Ronan's voice.

"The mouth-watering chicken is ready." Ronan's voice sounded like heavenly music.

Vieri was the first to sprint out, followed by Louis who had been waiting for a long time, and closely behind him was Freddy who was also eyeing him covetously.

The three of them ran to the dining table and hesitated at the same time.

“Is this what drooling chicken looks like?”

"It looks like the chicken was drowned in oil."

"Is there any chicken that is not soaked in this red soup?" Louis looked embarrassed.

Provence has the lowest obesity rate in France, but obesity rates are very low across Europe.

This is not because the French are addicted to wine or drink too much coffee every day, which drives their metabolism up. The secret lies in their diet.

The French don't eat fast food. When Americans eat pizza, hot dogs, nachos and French fries during their busy work breaks, what do people in Provence eat?
A cup of coffee, a bowl of tasteless salad, or just tearing a piece of bread and putting it in your mouth. This is a meal.

Of course, eating two simple meals does not mean that the French have no respect for food. On the contrary, they spend at least two or three hours every day at the dining table.

Once the French sit down at the table, the losses of the first two meals will be made up immediately, but they do not like food with too much oil. Fried foods like French fries rarely appear on the table here.

Others came to the restaurant one after another and their reactions were basically the same as the first three - curiosity, fear, wanting to try it, but not wanting to be the first to try it.

"What's that red stuff on there?" Louis mustered up the courage to pick up the fork.

"It's fried in oil using a specific type of chili and Sichuan peppercorns." Ronan's mouth was already watering.

"Chili? So much?" Louis quickly put down his fork.

The most common pepper on the French table is bell pepper because they can't eat spicy food.

No matter from which perspective, Ronan's mouth-watering chicken hit the French's sore spot.

Alan and Carl sat on the chairs and ate salad and sausage respectively, obviously staying away from the drooling chicken.

Freddy and Louis looked at each other, hoping that the other would show some manliness and act as a human poison tester. "Try it, Louis. You're not a man if you can't even eat chili peppers."

"Freddy, don't you love eating baguette with olive oil? Are you afraid of this little bit of oil?"

Ronan was extremely grateful that these unsophisticated Provencal people had no interest in the chicken salsa, as he hadn't eaten enough last night.

Mine, mine, all mine!

But soon, Ronan's dream was shattered.
A brave fork took action.

How could Vieri let the food made by his idol be neglected?

Even if it smelled like rotten eggs, he would eat the whole plate so he could brag about it at school.

I've eaten food that Ronan made, a whole plate of it, just for me!

My classmates will be envious, right?
Vieri closed his eyes as if he was going to die, and put the chicken with red juice in his mouth.

On either side of him, Louis and Freddy nervously watched Vieri's expression and reaction.

Vieri chewed for a few times with a ferocious expression, as if enduring great pain, and then suddenly opened his eyes and frantically looked for water:
"Water, water, give me water!"

Louis and Freddy put their forks down at the same time.

Vieri's reaction said it all.

This Chinese delicacy is not suitable for the French.
Before the two of them sat down, Vieri, who had gone to the kitchen to drink water, "ran" back again, and from three or four meters away, he was holding the fork in his hand in an "attacking" posture.

The adults at the table looked at the young man with strange behavior, some quickly and some slowly.

Suddenly, seven or eight forks were inserted into the chicken at the same time.

Ronan stamped his feet in pain.

Damn!

He was almost able to eat the whole chicken!
Paris.

Feng Zhen was restless the whole night, always thinking about her son who was thousands of miles away.

"Lao Luo, did you say Ronan has finished making the braised beef and mouth-watering chicken?" she asked her husband in standard Mandarin. The couple communicated in Mandarin at home.

Luo Tianhai watched the TV without looking away, and uttered a "hum" through his nose:

"Don't worry about him. He's in a new environment and he doesn't know how to show off. Those French people are so picky and want to use food as a social tool to make friends? It's a pity that he came up with such a bad idea."

Feng Zhen pushed him unhappily:
"Your own son, you really don't want anything good for him?"

Luo Tianhai snorted again:
"He has to suffer, what does it have to do with me? Provence will never accept a Chinese like him! Believe it or not, within half a year, he will return to Paris in disgrace because he cannot integrate into the local community."

Ding-ling-ling-ling——

Feng Zhen answered the phone while muttering:
"Who is it so late?"

She picked up the phone and three or four unfamiliar voices appeared at the same time.

"Ronan's parents, the Chinese food you taught him is so delicious!"

"Can you teach him a few more dishes? It would be best if it's spicy like the chicken. The Chinese 'red oil' tastes amazing!"

"I love China, I love Chinese food! Ahwu——"

In the chaotic Provencal dialect, they struggled to distinguish a hoarse Chinese voice:

"My friends drank too much! But we won the battle of Chinese food! Comrades, these white people even drank the soup!"

Feng Zhen and Luo Tianhai looked at each other.

Ronan has friends in Provence?
The food battle was won? ?
What on earth did he experience in Provence? !

(End of this chapter)