Interrupting Chicken Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Emily opted for chicken as it was the only thing she could cook quickly at the moment. Emily soaked the chicken in a container filled with water and prepared the seasoning. While waiting for the chicken to be ready for cooking, Emily cleaned the bottom part of the fridge to remove the lingering unpleasant smell from the discarded vegetables. Emily tried to find other food items to pair with the chicken. Her hand reached for the kitchen cabinet, and a smile appeared on her lips as she found rice vermicelli (mie bihun) there. Emily immediately grabbed a package. She then opened the fridge again to get some sausages to cook alongside the vermicelli.

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, before he murmured, "Oh, then... could you teach me?" Upon hearing this, Dean’s gaze flickered for a moment before he slowly began to speak. "Cut the chicken breast into small cubes, not too big, about the size of peanuts. Remove the seeds from the chili..." He began to give instructions, his voice steady, though there was still a faint rasp to it, a sign of the lingering strain in his throat. Shawn listened intently, his focus sharp, his movements no longer clumsy but growing more efficient with each step. Under Dean's guidance, Shawn gradually mastered the process of making Spicy Chicken. Soon, the sizzle of the stir-fry filled the ai

That’s when I noticed a narrow door almost blending into the wall. Call it instinct—but I opened it. A small pantry. Fully stocked. Pots, plates, everything we needed. "Found it." I grabbed what I could remember from Valeriya’s instructions and set everything out on the table. We dropped the chicken into a bowl and just… stared at it. Like that would somehow help. Well, staring probably wouldn’t cook it. But it might bore a hole straight through it. "Why couldn’t he just ask for sandwiches?" I muttered. "I suggested the chicken," Valeri admitted quietly.

Except I'm impatient and put too many pieces in at once. The temperature immediately drops and instead of browning, the chicken starts to steam. "No, no, no," I mutter. "You're supposed to brown, not steam. Come on, chicken. Work with me here. We're supposed to be a team." The chicken ignores me and continues steaming. I quickly remove some pieces and spread out the rest. Finally, they start to get that nice golden color. Crisis averted. For now. I'm so focused on the chicken that I almost forget about the vegetables.

I inhaled deeply, savoring the sharp aroma of the sautéed spices. "Mmm, smells so good! Definitely a mood booster." Next, the ginger. "Ginger for those who give up." Turning to face them again, I shouted, "Chicken!" and tossed in the pieces I’d chopped earlier. I laughed as they both jumped, startled by my sudden outburst. "Chicken, for the mistresses who claim what isn’t theirs." Levi dissolved into giggles. “Nanny! Funny, you startled me!" His laughter was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in.

In this book there are only foods whose ingredients are not in my fridge. After 5 minutes of looking for what I want, I finally got it too. Chicken soup might be perfect for the morning. I immediately took the ingredients from the refrigerator and immediately made chicken soup. As the name implies, the main ingredient needed is chicken meat that is still fresh and has been cut according to taste, approximately 400 grams. "It's best to use free-range chicken, but you can also cut chicken, but first coat the meat with lime juice and then let it rest for 10 minutes so that the distinctive smell of the chicken pieces is reduced." I said while reading the recipe book.

I fired up the flames, making sure the coals were glowing just right. The sizzling sound of the chicken hitting the grill was like music. I took a moment to inspect the chicken—each piece was seasoned perfectly, rubbed with a blend of spices. I flipped the pieces with a steady hand, feeling the heat and knowing exactly when to turn them. The scent of garlic, thyme, and paprika mixed in the air, and I could feel my focus sharpen as I continued. I pulled out a knife, slicing the chicken into smaller pieces, ensuring even cooking. I basted them with Liam's homemade sauce, coating them in layers of rich flavor. The chicken was starting to crisp up on the edges, the skin becoming beautifully cara

••• EPILOGUE ALEX I look down at the chicken I prepared. I just followed the stuffs that was in the cookbook and sigh when the outcome wasn't like it was on the picture. I slapped my hand on the book and it fell down on the floor. I did not dare to pick it up for I'm so annoyed right now. It's been almost a year after that very mind blowing prank--and surprise at the same time--Cade and Caine with the guys, have given me.

A plump, indignant, aggressively offended chicken. Before I can even speak, the damn thing flaps its wings violently and bursts out of her arms, soaring between us like a feathery missile gone rogue. I blink. “Why—why do you have my chicken?” “She ran away!” Alice snaps, scrambling after it. “It’s a farm, Alice! The chickens are supposed to be out.” “Well she wasn’t supposed to run in front of me like a lunatic! I thought she was hurt!” “Oh my God…” I rub my temples. “Please tell me you didn’t name her.”

I started with confidence. Step one: Season the chicken. I sprinkled salt. Then pepper. Then more salt because it didn’t look seasoned enough. Step two: Heat oil in a pan. I turned the stove on. Too high but I didn’t realize that. The oil started popping aggressively. I jumped back. “Why is it angry?” I placed the chicken into the pan. Instant chaos. Loud sizzling. Oil splattering everywhere. I squealed and grabbed a lid like a shield. “This is normal,” I told myself. “This is fine.”