A big bite of fried rice went into Chen Mo's mouth, and he chewed slowly, savoring it.
At his current level, as long as he's cooking in the food truck, he won't stop until all the progress bars that appear are perfect. So, the fried rice he was eating now was already the eighth attempt.
"Huh?"
After swallowing, Chen Mo stopped, looking at the bowl of fried rice with some curiosity.
The rice grains were shiny with oil, and they didn't have the so-called golden wrapping, just the normal color of rice grains.
The other ingredients were also very simple, but for some reason, there was a very special feeling in the mouth.
"Delicious, let's have two more bites."
Saying it was two bites, a large bowl of rice was finished by Chen Mo in no time, and he happily burped, made a cup of European hawthorn juice, and drank it. The taste was odd, somewhat like a mix of apples and red dates.
