Fake Dates and Mooncakes [antikvár]

Something's burning. Aunt Jade says if the smoke's white, it's all good. But if the smoke is yellow, I'm in trouble. Which means I have to decide whether I shoiild save the fried radish and egg pancake I forgot to flip or the five sticks of pork satay blackening on the grill. As the charred scent wafts through the kitchen, I dive for the sticks of skewered pork cubes. The fat on the meat bums with a ton of smoke, and if the fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers kick in, we're all screwed. Megan snatches the pan with the sizzling pancake off the fire. She shoots me a look. "Dylan, weren't you supposed to be watching the chye tow kuay?" "T-minus three on order number thirty-eight, sixteen xiao long bao!" Tim calls through the serving window. He's eleven, so he's not allowed into the war zone, but he's handling the counter like a boss, taking orders online and from walk-ins. Tim wrote an algorithm to crunch data and determine T, the time hangry customers detonate and cancel their orders. "And Aimtie Heng's still waiting for her Hokkien prawn mee!" "I'm on the xiao long bao!" I snatch the cover off the steamer basket