When they left the apartment, Claire followed beside him in silence just keeping a bit of distance. She found the situation highly suspicious.
There was no way someone could just start a business and receive this many orders at once. To satisfy her curiosity, she decided to follow him.
"You're not planning to scam my mother again after all that, are you?" she asked, staring at him intently.
He just smiled while looking forward, "I won't, trust me" he said then finally they have arrived at the market since it's not that far.
At the market he went to a butcher and bought some chicken first, checking the color and firmness of the meat to make sure it was fresh before handing over the money.
He followed it up with flour, seasoning, and cooking oil, inspecting the seals and expiration dates carefully, knowing that one bad ingredient could ruin everything.
After counting the plastic bags and setting aside a small buffer in his pocket, he let out a quiet breath, satisfied that everything he bought was enough and in proper condition.
In total, he had spent about 2,350 pesos. The many plastic bag handles dug into his hands so badly that his veins felt like they were about to burst from the weight.
There were simply too many bags to carry, and he could barely manage the load since the chicken alone weighed over eight kilograms.
Claire remained quiet the entire time, simply observing from the side.
As unbelievable as it was, she did not know much about cooking, let alone how to check whether ingredients were expired or spoiled.
So she just watched not bothering to ask or disturb. Watching how carefully he selected each ingredient and how serious and focused he was.
Claire slowly began to believe that this man might truly be changing for the better.
"Can you carry all of that?" she asked, since it looked far too heavy to manage with just two arms.
Even if she helped, it would still be difficult, "We can just hail a tricycle," he said.
With that he called one, and after they arrived back at the apartment, he headed straight to the kitchen since time was running out.
"Do you want to stay and watch?" he asked, knowing it would probably be boring for her.
"Yes, if it's distracting then very, very, yessssss," she replied, clearly trying to annoy him.
Seeing how silly and cute when she said those, he only smiled in response.
With that he started first after the morning batch which is the used oil, he lets the oil cool completely instead of adding anything new to it.
While it is still slightly warm but no longer hot, he strains it using a clean cloth he had prepared to remove burnt flour, crumbs, and garlic bits, because those are what make oil turn bitter.
Next, he checks the oil by smell and color. If it smells neutral or lightly savory and is still golden, it is safe to reuse, but if it smells sharp, sour, or looks dark brown, he discards it immediately because bad oil will ruin the chicken and the customers will notice.
Because in the night selling now, he does not rely on the old oil alone. So with that he mixes it with fresh oil, usually half old and half new, which restores the frying quality, keeps the aroma clean, and saves money without sacrificing taste.
Seeing how experienced he was while cooking, Claire who had been quietly watching from the side, found this side of him unexpectedly attractive rather than annoying.
Realizing what she was thinking, she slapped her cheeks with both hands. There was no way she would like someone like this lowly guy.
On the other hand, John focused on his work, lightly coating the chicken in seasoned flour before lowering the first five pieces into the oil one by one, listening to the steady crackle as garlic scented heat rose almost immediately.
Watching the coating turn golden and the bubbles settle, he flipped them calmly, knowing from the texture, sound, and aroma alone that this first batch was cooking exactly the way it should.
Finally, everything was done. He placed the fried chicken into a large container, releasing a powerful aroma that immediately drew Claire's attention.
Her stomach growled as the smell hit her nose thus leaving her mouth dry. Seeing her reaction, he could not help but laugh inwardly.
"You can try some if you want. I bought plenty so it won't be a problem," he said as he continued his work.
Claire just snorted in response and looked away, but her eyes kept drifting back to the large pot. Her body urged her to take a bite, and she found it hard to resist.
Remembering that he was the one who had told her to try it, she finally stopped holding herself back and took a bite.
The moment she bit into it, her casual expression shattered, her eyes widened slightly as the crisp gave way to a burst of heat and flavor that made her pause mid-chew, clearly caught off guard by how good it was.
"Yummy~~~" she screamed inwardly.
Noticing her own behavior, she froze and hurriedly glanced at John. Seeing that he had not noticed her, she sighed in relief.
She then finished the piece until only the bone was left, even licking her fingers before taking another one.
After finishing that she grabbed another, and then another, until she had eaten five pieces in total.
John, who had just finished the next batch and was about to place it into the pot, was completely stunned.
Glancing up at Claire, he saw that her cheeks were puffed up, with crumbs of fried chicken clinging to her face.
The most obvious proof was the five bare bones on the table, making it clear how much she had eaten.
Seeing this, he was astonished as she looked at her figure. He could have never imagined that she could eat that much.
Even he had not eaten any yet, despite having finished most of the first batch. Even saying 'almost' was just a polite way to put it.
"You… you…" he said pointing at her, totally speechless.