We made you the chief, and now you've become the world's chief?

Chapter 176 The Dawn of the Great Foodie Empire
Looking at the earthenware pot, Xia Minghao fell into thought.

Can vegetable oil become this viscous?

Thinking about it carefully, the palm oil I bought back then didn't turn out like this.

I suspect it's because the oil extraction technique wasn't good enough, resulting in too many impurities.

Of course, it could also be a property of palm oil itself. I've heard before that palm oil is unhealthy because it's high in saturated fat, just like lard and mutton fat.

That might be why it solidified, but since I'm not in that field, this is just a guess.

Xia Minghao ignored the commotion of the crowd and never expected that it would seem like a "miracle" to them.

They simply scooped out a little of the heated palm oil with a ceramic spoon and tasted it.

With just one bite, you can taste the oil's flavor, which is truly exceptional.

It has an extremely rich nutty aroma.

As I tried them one by one, I discovered different flavors, depending on the degree of doneness of the palm fruit during the second step of cooking. The flavors varied, some were caramelized, while others were fruity.

The juice, which had barely been cooked before pressing, gave Xia Minghao a strong mango aroma and a distinctly astringent taste.

After tasting the flavor, Xia Minghao began to check the yield of palm oil extracted by each person.

In fact, most of them are no different. The only one that is significantly more common than others is the fully cooked group during the cooking process.

Actually, saying it's fully cooked isn't accurate; it's more accurate to say it's overcooked.

I originally thought that cooking it until it was very soft would cause a lot of oil to be lost, so there shouldn't be any excess.

Unexpectedly, this was actually the most, more than half as many as the second place.

It seems that cooking palm fruit until it is very soft before juicing it is the best way to produce the highest oil yield.

But now Xia Minghao frowned a little, because this set was also the most unpalatable.

This was the only set that allowed him to taste a slight bitterness.

High yield, but poor taste.

It has a low yield but tastes good.

Isn’t this torture?

Whether to prioritize quality or quantity is indeed a perplexing question.

After struggling with it for a while, Xia Minghao finally figured it out.

There may not be a standard answer; rather, it should be based on reality and the specific purpose.

For example, if it's not for eating, or, it could be sold to the Great Stone City!
Originally, he was doing a multiple-choice question, but while thinking, Xia Minghao let his mind wander.

Yes, we were always thinking about eating it, which limited the market for palm oil.

Actually, this thing isn't just for eating.

Palm oil can completely replace animal fats that were previously difficult to obtain in large quantities.

For example, making soap!
Since arriving in Riverside Village, with the construction of numerous houses, soap production has almost completely ceased.

Now that we have palm oil, we can directly address this issue, not only by producing it, but by producing it on a large scale, making the Xia tribe a clean and hygienic tribe.

Palm oil used to make soap doesn't need to be concerned with taste; you can't expect people to eat the soap and then blow bubbles afterward.

Furthermore, based on the reactions of the people from the Great Lakes when they heard about oil, Xia Minghao thought that palm oil might also find a market in Giant Rock City.

While it may not necessarily become a hard currency, it can still open up a certain market.

They dumped palm oil into Rock City in exchange for fruit, so naturally they didn't use any good oil. Even if they did, they would market it as a "high-end product" in order to get more palm fruit.

As for the Xia tribe members themselves, there's no need to limit their thinking.

Both types of oil can be sold, simply at two different price points. This comparison of good and bad can also stimulate initiative and show everyone that there is an even better life beyond a good one.

While the group of people around him were grinning foolishly at the palm oil, Xia Minghao not only made things right for their former "master," Jushicheng, but also for the Xia tribe people in other places.

But he won't be selling them today. Xia Minghao plans to mix all the oil together and then unlock a new cooking technique—frying.

No matter what it is, it tastes delicious when fried.

No matter what it is, whether it's protein or carbohydrates, when it's mixed with a lot of fat, it will always create a great taste sensation.

"Put all of these in one jar, and today I'll give you all different kinds of oil!"

Xia Minghao announced this to everyone, and upon hearing it, everyone beamed with joy, but they couldn't imagine the shock they would experience in a moment.

After instructing the women, the men couldn't be idle either, so Xia Minghao made them all wash taro.

Then they had Datan and others, who had bronze tools, cut the taro into thin slices.

Subjectively, I wanted it to be thinner, but since Xia Minghao hadn't yet created the bronze kitchen knife, objectively it couldn't be made any thinner.

There was no demand for bronze kitchen knives before, so they weren't made.

There's demand now, but we can't actually afford to build them.

Bronze reserves are already scarce, and according to a message from Hima recently, it's becoming increasingly difficult to find malachite. It's safe to say that the only remaining malachite reserves are in the Salt Spring Mountains. If these reserves run out, then we'll have to recast bronze artifacts.

Looking at the taro slices he had cut, Xia Minghao felt they weren't quite right.

It's too thick to fry through, so I simply changed it to taro strips, which is much more suitable. The thickness is equivalent to four French fries together.

The oil has all been scooped together, and the amount is actually quite large.

After being heated, the solidified palm oil regained its fluidity, but due to the presence of many impurities, it was far inferior to soybean oil or lard, though it was still passable.

Everyone looked at the taro strips and then at the large pot of palm oil, puzzled.

In that instant, Xia Minghao threw in a handful of taro strips, and with a "plop," the undried water from the taro strips exploded in the earthenware pot.

Xia Minghao was prepared; he not only immediately hid far away himself, but also prevented the others from getting close.

The main problem is that without professional kitchen utensils, it's difficult to drain the food completely, so we can only fry it as is.

There has never been so much oil before, so it's impossible to invent the cooking method of frying.

Actually, frying is a relatively recent cooking technique, because most people lived a hard life and were grateful to have even a little bit of oil in their stomachs.

However, because Xia Minghao, the heir to this great foodie empire, invented the method of frying things ahead of time in this other world.

Taro strips were added in handfuls, and the fried ones were continuously taken out with long wooden sticks.

More and more people gathered around, and with the autumn wind, the fragrance had spread to every corner of the entire Guhedao Village.

After frying several large pots of taro strips and using up all the oil, Xia Minghao used the last of the palm oil to pan-fry a batch of blackfish.

While waiting, I put all the taro strips into the earthenware jar.

Why use an earthenware pot? Because the final step after the taro strips are cooked is to sprinkle salt on them.

It can taste just as good without salt for these primitive people, but with salt, the flavor is doubled!
I'm not reluctant to part with this little bit of red salt. Although it's going to be a hot-selling product now, it doesn't matter if I lose a little bit.

Besides, these men and women have put in a lot of effort today, and we will have to rely on them for palm oil production in the future.

He sprinkled some brown salt into the jar, grabbed the jar, and started shaking it vigorously. After taking out a piece of salt, Xia Minghao put it in his mouth without any hesitation.

Good guy!
This is the perfect flavor, with a hint of nuts and fruit. It's amazing!

It seems I'm destined to rebuild the glory of my great gluttonous empire in this other world!

In an instant, Xia Minghao felt that these taro strips were even more delicious than the French fries he ate in modern society. The only drawback was that they were cut too thick.

"Come here, this is oil, and it tastes much better than eating it directly!" Holding the earthenware jar, worried that the group would scramble for it, Xia Minghao personally distributed the oil.

Everyone grabbed a handful, and before long, they were stuffed into their mouths.

Everyone who had eaten it looked incredibly satisfied. They had never tasted anything so delicious before, and had always lived on palm fruit to fill their stomachs. How could they have enjoyed it so much!
Seeing his Xia tribe members so happy, Xia Minghao thought to himself.

How could you not enjoy it? This thing is deep-fried in oil, a perfect sugar and oil mixture, it's bound to taste delicious.

When Xia Minghao first started working, his weight skyrocketed. He had heard about this concept when he was trying to lose weight and completely rejected sugar-oil mixtures.

A sugar-oil mixture is actually a combination of a large amount of oil and carbohydrates.

The reason to avoid this when trying to lose weight is primarily because it's high in calories and can easily lead to obesity.

Secondly, and most importantly, it tastes delicious!
After all, who would eat something that doesn't taste good? And if you don't eat it, you won't gain weight, so why bother avoiding it?

This first mixture of sugar and oil from the primitive era, once eaten, whetted everyone's appetite.

They wanted more after eating, but none of them dared to ask Xia Minghao for more.

Seeing the unfinished sugar and oil mixture, my mouth watered uncontrollably, and I naturally started to try to distract myself.

Just then, a voice suddenly rang out, and upon hearing its content, everyone's attention was immediately drawn, relieving their cravings.

"The chief is a yellow-skinned person, and legend has it that yellow-skinned people can communicate with all kinds of gods."

"They must have spoken to the god of the palm fruit, that's why there's oil."

Everyone was completely bewildered. They had heard very few legends about yellow-skinned people, only that they were terrifying, but they had never heard of this before, so it felt very novel to them and they all wanted to hear more.

It's not surprising that people are surprised; this idea has never been used before and was just something the speaker came up with.

The strange logic that everyone just came up with is now fermenting, and the result of this fermentation is that they are starting to fabricate stories.

That's how the legend goes. From the beginning to the end, all sorts of new things were added for various reasons.

Initially, it was just a subjective description of a hidden history, but later all sorts of messy things were added in, making it difficult for people to see the original appearance.

Although no one had heard of it before, it aligned with their previous way of thinking and was something they were willing to believe. Therefore, many men and women from the lake began to nod in agreement.

The speaker was about to continue speaking when a voice suddenly interrupted him; it was the youngest son of the Painted Face family.

“No, the chief didn’t tell the god of palm fruit. There is no god of palm fruit.”

"What did you say, Oman!"

The man who had spoken became somewhat angry upon seeing that he was being questioned.

Aman, the youngest son of the Painted Face family, was not afraid at all.

He knew his father was very powerful, but that was because of the chief. His father had told him a lot about it, so he felt that there couldn't be anyone more powerful than the chief, or even just as powerful.

Therefore, Aman did not believe that there were any other gods; he had not seen them, nor could there be any as powerful as the chief.

"The chief is a god, that must be true. And there can only be one, because there has never been a palm fruit god who has brought us anything."

“That must be right, Oman said.”

After Oman's reminder, some of the others also realized that this was true.

Now, the man who had been fabricating the legend stopped, but the legend remained.

As the discussion progressed, a consensus gradually emerged, which was ultimately expressed by Oman.

We have only one God, the Chief, from whom all things originate! Oil is produced by the Chief; everything we see and eat is so! This is what Oman said!
Xia Minghao had already divided the taro strips and couldn't wait any longer. He immediately went to the fried fish and started to eat.

It tastes best when pan-fried; boiling it just doesn't give it the same flavor.

Who do you think invented this thing? It tastes delicious as soon as you put it in your mouth.

After finishing the fish, looking at the piles of palm fruits, Xia Minghao decided to first produce a batch for export to Jushi City to see if he could open up sales channels. The production of red salt was really limited and would eventually reach its limit, so other products would be needed to share the sales burden.

Moreover, if palm oil finds a market, it could even alleviate the current crisis of red salt in the Xia tribe caused by trade.

Palm oil is a really good thing. We've only just started out. We'll have to see how that "merchant" fares. Hopefully, things will get moving quickly so that we can import a large quantity of palm fruit.

……

……

……

The entrance to the Great Stone City.

Many people had been waiting for a long time, and when they saw that hideous wart-covered face, their faces showed surprise and delight.

This time, they not only picked palm branches, but also bundled them up, worried that because they were loose and difficult to carry, the wart-faced man would refuse them, and they wouldn't be able to exchange them for the delicious red salt that would give them more energy.

Seeing so many people, the man with the warts was still a little awkward, but he would soon stop feeling that way.

"I don't want so many palm fruits, I want a clay pot, I want clothes..."

The man with the warts had already decided that if it were any other primitive person, they would probably just follow their old habits and eat the palm fruit.

But for some reason, the person with the warts immediately thought that they could exchange it for more and better things.

Hearing this, everyone was stunned. They hadn't expected this at all, but they still wanted the red salt, so they went back and started getting what the wart-faced guy had mentioned.

So, in the moments before the sun had set, the wart-faced man had gained many things.

There was even a place to live, which was a wooden house left behind by someone who moved away.

The man who gave him the house took the most red salt in return and left with a grin.

Watching the man's departing figure, the joy of the wart-faced man receiving so many things vanished instantly.

After obtaining it, he felt a sense of dissatisfaction, as if he had not truly received it.

"I want a better house."

As he stood before the wooden house he could never have, this sentence suddenly popped into the wart-faced man's mind.

Stone houses!

Those stone houses are very sturdy; I don't know who built them.

The largest clan in Stone City, the Lü clan, claims to have built it, and they also claim Stone City itself is theirs.

But the person with warts on their face disagreed.

Regardless of who built it, he moved into the best stone house, wondering if he could ever get a replacement.

Carrying a large pile of things, he entered the house and put them down. Suddenly, the man with the warts felt a void in his heart and thought of his younger sister.

"I still have some red salt; I need to give it to my sister."

As the wart-faced man thought to himself, he finally felt something in his heart, and he was no longer so empty.

Stepping out of the house, Wartface began to wonder again whether he should take Amei to his wooden house so she could have a good look around.

Just as he stepped out the door, several pairs of eyes from the shadows immediately fixed their gaze upon him.

On the surface, a certain degree of contractual spirit has indeed formed within the city of Boulder, and people refrain from robbing trade goods.

But the reality is quite different. Under the guidance of the law after the birth of civilization, the law of the jungle could not be fundamentally changed.

A dozen or so men followed him until it was completely dark, watching the wart-faced man walk into a secluded, dark place...

(End of this chapter)