011 Real cooking skills

The norm is for everyone to perish? Am I supposed to rejoice that I am still alive? Am I fortunate to still be alive?

Klein shuddered suddenly, taking a few hurried steps towards the door, attempting to catch up with the police officers, seeking protection.

But as he reached for the door handle, his movement abruptly halted.

"The officer made everything sound so dreadful, so why wouldn't they protect me, an important witness or key clue?"

"This is rather negligent, isn't it?"

"Is this a probe, or is it bait?"

Various thoughts clashed in Klein's mind, causing him to suspect that the police were still covertly "watching" him, observing his reactions.

With this realization, he felt somewhat reassured, no longer as panicked and frantic. He leisurely opened the door, deliberately trembling in his voice as he shouted towards the stairwell:

"You will protect me, won't you?"

Silence greeted Klein's plea; the rhythm of footsteps on the wooden staircase remained unchanged.

"I know! You will do this!" Klein exclaimed once again, feigning conviction, striving to appear like a normal person facing danger.

The footsteps gradually faded, disappearing into the lower floors of the apartment.

Klein let out a low hum, inwardly scoffing, "This reaction is too artificial, isn't it? Subpar acting!"

He didn't pursue further, turning back into his room and casually closing the door.

For the next few hours, Klein displayed considerable restlessness, unable to relax despite the absence of people around him.

This is what one might call an actor's self-discipline! He mocked himself inwardly.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with fiery hues, and the residents of the apartment started returning home, Klein shifted his focus elsewhere.

"Melissa should be finishing school soon..." He cast his gaze towards the stove, swiftly grabbing the kettle, preparing coal, and retrieving a revolver.

Without hesitation, he reached under the lower wooden panel of the bunk bed, where several wooden slats intersected. Placing the revolver between a plank and the wooden board, Klein stood up nervously, waiting anxiously, fearing that the police might suddenly burst through the door, firearms in hand, and barge into the room.

In a normal steam-powered world, his actions just now would have gone unnoticed, but here, in a world of extraordinary powers, his own extraordinary abilities had been confirmed.

After waiting for several minutes without any activity at the door, except for the distant and then receding conversation of two tenants planning to visit the "Wild Heart" bar on Iron Cross Street, Klein let out a sigh, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.

Now, he simply had to wait for Melissa to return to make Lamb and Pea Stew!

This thought filled Klein's mouth with the aroma of succulent meat, along with memories of how Melissa prepared Lamb and Pea Stew.

She would first boil water and parboil the meat, then add onions, salt, a pinch of pepper, and water to stew directly. When the time was right, she would add peas and potatoes, letting it simmer for forty-five to fifty minutes.

"Such a simple and rudimentary method... relying solely on the natural flavor of the meat!" Klein couldn't help but shake his head.

But there was no other way; common households lacked a variety of spices and cooking techniques, so they had to pursue simplicity, practicality, and frugality. As long as the meat wasn't burnt or spoiled, it was considered good enough for someone who only ate twice a week or even once.

Klein couldn't claim to be a culinary expert; his daily meals mainly consisted of takeout. However, cooking three or four times a week over the weeks had given him a passing grade, making him feel obligated not to waste that pound of lamb.

"Waiting for Melissa to come back and cook would take until at least seven-thirty, and that would starve her... It's time to show her some real cooking skills!" Klein found himself making excuses, rekindling the fire in the stove, fetching water to rinse the lamb, and then taking out a cutting board and knife to chop it into small pieces.

As for how to explain his sudden cooking skills, he decided to pin it on the deceased Welch Mcgowan, who not only hired chefs specializing in Intersea cuisine but also frequently experimented with gourmet food himself, inviting people to taste.

Hmm, dead men can't refute me!

But, oh, in a world of extraordinary individuals, the dead might still speak... With this thought, Klein inexplicably felt a twinge of guilt.

Pushing aside his tangled thoughts, Klein placed the meat chunks in a soup bowl and added a spoonful and a half of coarse yellow salt from a spice box. Additionally, he took some precious black peppercorns from a special bottle, mixing them with the lamb and salt, marinating them slightly.

Placing the stew pot on the stove to heat up, Klein searched for the carrots left over from yesterday and the onions bought today, cutting them into small pieces.

Once the preparations were done, he retrieved a small jar from the cabinet. Opening it, there was only a little bit of pork fat left.

Klein scooped out a spoonful, melted it in the pot, then poured in the carrot and onion pieces, sautéing them for a while.

As the aroma began to spread, Klein poured all the lamb into the pot, carefully browning it for a while.

During this process, he should have added some cooking wine, or at least used wine as a substitute, but the Moratty family didn't have such luxuries, and Benson could only afford to drink beer once a week. Klein had to make do with what was available, pouring in some boiling water and making do.

After stewing for about twenty minutes, he lifted the lid and added the tender peas and diced potatoes, along with a cup of hot water and two spoons of salt.

Closing the lid, lowering the heat, Klein breathed a satisfied sigh, waiting for his sister to come home.

As the seconds ticked by, the room filled with the fragrance, enticing with the meat's allure, the potatoes' richness, and the onion's freshness.

The flavors gradually mingled, causing Klein to occasionally swallow his saliva and check the clock on the wall.

After more than forty minutes, the sound of footsteps, not light but with an orderly rhythm, approached. The key inserted, turned, and the door opened.

"It smells so good..." Melissa hadn't even entered yet, but her voice carried a hint of surprise and curiosity.

Carrying her bag, she stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the fireplace.

"Did you make this?" Melissa's motion of taking off her hat paused in midair as she looked at Klein with a mixture of astonishment and fear in her eyes.

She sniffed, taking in more of the aroma, her gaze quickly softening, as if gaining some confidence.

"Did you make this?" She asked in disbelief once again.

"Are you afraid I'll waste the lamb?" Klein smiled, not waiting for an answer, continuing, "Don't worry, I specifically consulted Welch on how to make this dish. You know, he has a good chef."

"First time cooking?" Melissa's eyebrows unconsciously furrowed, but the aroma smoothed them out again.

"It seems I have some talent." Klein chuckled, "It's almost done. Put your books and hat

 aside, wash your hands in the lavatory, and wait to taste it. I'm quite confident."

Listening to her brother's calm and methodical arrangements, and seeing his gentle smile, Melissa stood at the door, stunned, without any reaction.

"Do you prefer it stewed until it falls apart?" Klein urged with a smile.

"Oh, yes, yes!" Melissa snapped out of her daze, putting down her bag and hat, and hurriedly walked into the inner room.

Lifting the lid of the stew pot, Klein immediately saw steam rising, with two slices of rye bread placed alongside the lamb and peas, allowing them to absorb the aroma and heat, becoming soft.

When Melissa returned after tidying up, her face still flushed, she opened the cupboard, instinctively checking the spice box and other items.

"You used these just now?" Melissa blurted out in surprise, turning to Klein, holding the bottles of black pepper and pork fat.

Klein shrugged and smiled, "Just a little bit, it's the price of deliciousness."

Melissa's eyes flickered, her expression changing several times before she pursed her lips and said, "I'll cook from now on."

"Hmm... You need to hurry and prepare for your interview and consider work matters."