His chopsticks clicked as he plucked a slice of duck. He chewed slowly, the panel waiting for his expression.
Finally, he said, "This balance works. The duck fat is heavy, yet the citrus cuts through it nicely. The Sichuan pepper lingers but not aggressively, it has restraint. Someone here understands moderation."
Lili straightened proudly. "That was my idea.." she said quickly.
Mianmian kept her eyes lowered, her hands folded neatly before her apron.
The second judge, Madame Liu, a stern woman known for her French training, shifted her attention to the rice. She scooped a small bite, her eyes narrowing as she tasted. Then, unexpectedly, her expression softened.
"Ah. This is clever.." she murmured. "Duck confit, an unmistakably French preparation reborn in a wok. The rice is humble, yes, but elevated with orange zest. Each grain glistens. It is… not rustic, but dignified. An honest dish."
Her eyes flicked briefly to Mianmian, as if she had guessed the true hand behind it.
