blogombal 051 Huanghai Hotel
051 Huanghai Hotel
"What? You think it's too little? Chefs earn a lot, but you two don't have the skills." Xu Qiang looked at him with a smile: "Don't think too simply. Working as a chopping board worker in a restaurant is different from cutting vegetables at home. You have no experience at all. When you first start, you'll only be considered apprentices. Earning two hundred US dollars is already quite good. Besides, the actual working hours each day are not long, and it won't interfere with your classes. It's perfect for your current situation."
Li Baoqing lowered his head, lost in thought and remaining silent. Hu Yi quickly replied, "It's not a small amount, it's fine. As long as we can make money, that's all that matters. Our Russian isn't good, so what right do we have to be picky? What do you say, Baoqing?"
"That's true." Li Baoqing said with a forced smile, "Given our current situation, two hundred isn't too bad."
"To be honest, two hundred dollars is indeed too little. You're in class during the day and working at night, it must be very tiring. But you might as well treat this as a temporary job, and then consider it a better one in the future." Xu Qiang said seriously, "Besides, working in a restaurant like that is safe and comfortable. You don't have to worry about the police checking your identity or being afraid of thugs. It's not cold in winter and not hot in summer, it's very comfortable, and you can even have dinner at the restaurant every day. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone else."
"Oh yeah! That'll save us a lot of money on meals!" Li Baoqing exclaimed, suddenly enlightened. "Thanks, Brother Qiang! So when can we start working?"
"No rush, all the Chinese chefs are on holiday now, they probably won't go back until after the New Year. I'll talk to the head chef another day." Xu Qiang took a sip of baijiu. "I'll leave you my phone number, we'll contact each other in a few days."
A few days later, students who had gone home for the Spring Festival began to return to school one after another. Zhou Dali returned fully refreshed with a large sum of money. His suitcase was filled with snacks and good cigarettes. On the day he got back to the dormitory, he treated his two malnourished roommates to a hearty meal at the Arabic restaurant downstairs.
Immediately afterwards, Yu Feifei brought Hu Yi the $3,300 he had been longing for from China. Hu Yi immediately lent Li Baoqing $500, and the two of them bid farewell to their miserable life of counting rubles.
As the end of the month approached, Xu Qiang's side also made some moves. He took Hu Yi and Li Baoqing to meet the head chef of the Chinese restaurant at the Huanghai Hotel. The head chef treated Xu Qiang like a brother, but didn't give the two students he brought any special regard. After Xu Qiang left, he led the two into the kitchen and shouted at a fat chef, "Old Wei, Old Wei! Stop eating!"
The chubby chef was leaning against the wall, munching on a cucumber, when he was startled by the head chef's shout. He quickly wiped his hands on his apron and said, "Hehe, I was just killing time."
The head chef glared at him, annoyed. "I know you're free, so I'll give you something to do." He then pointed behind him. "These two are new chopping boards. You'll be in charge of assigning them tasks and showing them around."
"Okay!" Old Wei agreed, and as soon as the head chef left, he picked up the remaining half of the cucumber and continued eating it without saying a word. Hu Yi and Li Baoqing stood respectfully to the side for a moment, then asked with a forced smile, "Um... Teacher Wei, what would you like us to do?"
"What are you doing?" Old Wei tossed the cucumber stem aside, then grabbed a tomato and took a bite. "Let's get to work! It's still early. You two can go over there and get some carrots to shred and practice. Make sure they're all the same thickness and length, and each one is as thin as a matchstick."
From that day on, Hu Yi and Li Baoqing began their first jobs. The workplace was far from Youda University, requiring an hour's subway ride. Every day after class, the two would head straight to the subway station and rush back to sleep before the dormitory locked up after work. Although they weren't used to it at first, they only felt slight fatigue in their wrists and arms and didn't find it particularly strenuous.
Huanghai is a mid-to-high-end restaurant run by Russians. The restaurant is exquisite and luxurious, with a bright and clean kitchen. It offers both Chinese and Western cuisine, with buffet and à la carte options. Chinese food is mainly served in the evenings, focusing on Shandong cuisine. The menu isn't particularly extensive, consisting mostly of representative home-style dishes, yet prices often exceed 100 rubles, several times more expensive than restaurants in China, but only considered mid-to-high level in Moscow.
The Chinese and Western kitchens are separate. Most of the staff in the Chinese kitchen are Chinese, and they are all busy with their own work. Only Lao Wei comes over from time to time to give Hu Yi and Li Baoqing instructions or a few pointers.
Old Wei was the last cook in the Chinese restaurant. He was in his thirties, spoke with a heavy Shandong accent, had a big head and thick neck, and his eyes darted around suspiciously, giving him a slick and oily look. Actually, he was fairly honest and kind-hearted, but he was a bit greedy and liked to take advantage of others, always sneaking food into the kitchen.
In the beginning, Hu Yi and Li Baoqing could only do odd jobs. Chopping vegetables at the cutting board was mainly for practice. They could manage to chop slowly, one slice at a time, but if they went too fast, they lost their aim, resulting in unevenly sized pieces, slices, and shreds. The vegetables they handled were far from satisfactory and could only be left for everyone's work meals. Old Wei wasn't in a hurry. Sometimes he'd roll up his sleeves and demonstrate, and sometimes he'd munch on a cucumber and make sarcastic remarks.
"Huh? Xiao Hu, why are you crying? Oh, I was chopping onions. Oh well, a man doesn't cry easily, but I just happened to be chopping onions."
"Hey! Brother Li, is this potato shreds? Are you trying to cut fries for McDonald's? Don't even think about it, it's pointless, they use machines for that."
"Oh my god, you cut your hand? Look, it's dripping blood! Quickly rinse it under the tap! Then put a band-aid on it! It's okay, you're bound to cut yourself on a cutting board sometime. You'll get used to it."
It's still winter in Moscow, so business at the Chinese restaurant in Huanghai isn't booming. The kitchen is relatively quiet, and the chefs often gather in small groups to smoke and chat when they have free time. Hu Yi and Li Baoqing are the youngest and newcomers, so the others are indifferent to them. Only Lao Wei is willing to chat with them, joke around, or tell them some kitchen rules and anecdotes.
Over the course of a few days, the two men quickly became familiar with Lao Wei and discovered his differences from others: while other chefs only took charge of stir-frying and ignored everything else, Lao Wei was busy all day long, both cooking hot dishes and preparing cold dishes; he communicated with other chefs and directed others to wash and cut vegetables, he was even more concerned than the head chef.
Hu Yi was curious about this, and during the break after the dinner rush, he asked, "Brother Wei, I noticed that you're the busiest Chinese person in the kitchen, like a head steward. You're not a head chef who specializes in cooking, are you?"
"What are you talking about! Of course it is!" Old Wei's eyes widened, shocked by his questioning, then he said awkwardly, "Actually, I used to be in charge of the side dishes, but the boss felt that the Chinese restaurant was too quiet during the off-season, so there was no need to assign someone to handle the side dishes. It just so happened that the fourth chef left at the end of last year, so the head chef asked me to fill in temporarily. But the side dish work can't be left unattended, so I'm still temporarily handling it."
"I knew you were different from the other chefs," Hu Yi said smugly, looking at Lao Wei. "What does 'shuncai' do? Does it mean serving dishes to guests?"
"Nonsense! That's called serving food, it's a restaurant position, not the same as the kitchen." Old Wei angrily stubbed out his cigarette, picked up a carrot, and took a bite. "Serving food mainly involves coordinating the work progress between the stove and the cutting board, directing you to cut vegetables based on the orders from the front of house, and helping the head chef arrange ingredient preparation. That's an experience-based job, and a significant portion of the work is close to a management position!"
"Oh!" Hu Yi and Li Baoqing nodded in unison, "He really is the Grand Steward."
"Of course, in terms of job level... well, just below the head chef!" Old Wei said solemnly, "Don't think just anyone can do this job. A typical kitchen requires someone who can handle everything, from cooking to cleaning, and be familiar with the entire kitchen workflow. They have to be able to do everything. Carving flowers, braising meat, plating—they have to be able to do it all with ease. If there's a shortage of people at the cutting board, they can pick up a knife and start chopping; if the stove is too busy, they can pick up a wok and start stir-frying! Do you know what that's called? It's called a jack-of-all-trades!"
"I see!" Hu Yi exclaimed with respect, "I thought your skills weren't up to par, but I never imagined you were...you are..."
"A jack of all trades, master of none," Li Baoqing replied.
"You little brat, always finding ways to insult me!" Old Wei feigned anger, but then he heard the head chef call out from afar, "Old Wei, Old Wei! We've almost finished what we were doing up front, get everyone something to eat!"
Old Wei got up and walked towards the stove, turning back to point at the two men and laughing and scolding, "You think I'm bad at cooking? Don't eat my dishes later!"
"Eat! Eat!" Li Baoqing stubbed out his cigarette and followed along eagerly. "You're an amazing cook, could you teach me a few dishes sometime?"
Old Wei grabbed a rice brush and spun it around in the wok a few times, then looked at Li Baoqing with a grin: "What do you want me to teach you? You want to be a master chef?"
Li Baoqing grinned and said, "How could I possibly have that skill? I just learned how to cook for myself when I get back."
"Then don't learn here." Old Wei sullenly poured out the dishwater: "At this time of year, most of the people who come to eat are Russians and foreigners. Chinese food has to be changed to suit their tastes. Even I don't like the dishes I cook, so it's no wonder you all complain."
"Oh, right." Li Baoqing scratched his head and said, "No wonder, sometimes the dishes you guys cook seem a bit... off."
"It would be strange if it didn't work!" Old Wei slowly put his hands on his hips. "Take scrambled eggs with tomatoes, for example! We Chinese make this dish with a perfect balance of sweet and sour, red and yellow, it's delicious and looks good. But the manager said the Russians don't like mushy tomatoes, so when I cook for them, I have to adjust the proportions. A plate of bright yellow eggs with only two or three pieces of tomato on top. Tell me, what kind of crap is that? I might as well just use tomato sauce instead!"
Li Baoqing wrinkled his nose: "Yeah, those Russians really don't understand Chinese cuisine."
"That's secondary," Old Wei continued, pouring out his grievances. "Our local Chinese food is mainly Shandong cuisine, which emphasizes the use of soy sauce for seasoning. But the Russians aren't used to it, so we have to use as little soy sauce as possible when stir-frying, and some dishes are simply not seasoned at all. Do you think it will still taste the same?"
"No soy sauce? How can that be?" Li Baoqing shook his head repeatedly: "No wonder your stir-fries always seem too bland."
"Exactly," Old Wei said sullenly. "So, cooking in this godforsaken place doesn't require much skill. Just remember one thing: don't use soy sauce if you can avoid it. They won't notice anything wrong with it anyway."
"Hey, got it." Li Baoqing chuckled a few times. The head chef clicked his tongue impatiently beside him: "Alright, Lao Wei, don't you get tired of nagging like this all the time? Hurry up and cook the dishes, everyone's waiting to eat."