#Bakers and Chefs BBQ Parts
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lithiumcreepblog · 1 year ago
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jancy weekend day 3: chefs AU
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Meals make the society, hold the fabric together in lots of ways that were charming and interesting and intoxicating to me. The perfect meal, or the best meals, occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself. - Anthony Bourdain
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Unspecified modern year. New York. Nancy is the chef de cuisine at a causal fine dining restaurant that specializes in modernizing classic French cooking. She’s formally trained at culinary school and hopes to open her own French bistro one day. Jonathan, a self taught baker and pastry chef, owns a small bakery right next door to Nancy’s restaurant. He makes familiar and comforting pastries every day, and finds the exacting nature of baking soothing. Nancy first meets him when she gets breakfast from his bakery, and they immediately hit it off and start dating soon after.
Their schedule is not very flexible; Jonathan has to wake up really early in the morning while Nancy usually works late nights at the restaurant. But that doesn’t stop them from spending quality time with one another. They have other interests– like photography and writing– but at the end of the day, food is their love language. Nancy loves introducing Jonathan to new food, laughing when he grimaces through trying oysters for the first time. They often go restaurant hopping, showing each other their own hidden gems in the city. Jonathan has an extensive list of unknown hole-in-the-wall places all over the city that Nancy hasn’t even heard of, and they try everything from hot dogs to Korean BBQ to crepes.
Nancy doesn’t really like to cook for herself after a long night at the restaurant, so Jonathan always prepares something for her when she comes home. Even after years of working in the food industry and tasting some of the best food in the world, Jonathan’s lasagna is still Nancy’s favorite food in the world. Jonathan didn’t like being adventurous with food before, but dating Nancy and taste testing her new menu ideas, he has begun to develop a broader palate. Similarly, Nancy, who hated how precise and scientific baking is, has an appreciation for the art now. She even makes Jonathan’s favorite cookies for him, adding something fun like marshmallow to the classic recipe.
Years after their first meeting, Nancy gets an opportunity to write a food column in Time Out, where she shares her thoughts about the restaurant industry and local businesses. Soon the column evolves to be a mainstay, sharing new recipes and highlighting small businesses in the city that deserve recognition with Jonathan taking all the photographs. That inspires the couple to publish their own book, part memoir, part culinary travelogue, that celebrates food and its importance to the human experience. Nancy has her own bistro now, and Jonathan has expanded his bakery, but they will never forget the first bite of food they shared together: a lox bagel shared under an umbrella because of the unforgiving New York drizzle.
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bbqtek · 3 years ago
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grillpartshub-blog · 4 years ago
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3 Pack Replacement Cast-Iron Burner for Bakers & Chefs, Sam’s, Members Mark, Grand Hall Gas Models
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frenchie-sottises · 4 years ago
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Skelebros Headcannons.
No one asked for these, but whatever. Also, there may be some triggers, so be aware. (It’s mainly trauma stuff.)
Also, this is like, super fucking long. I included quite a few versions.
Papyrus:
- Is over 7′9 without the boots. He’s 7′11 with them. - Smarter than he looks. (I might as well say that this is confirmed cause he apparently knows of Sans’s ability to prank people across time and space.) - Isn’t the best cook when it comes to dishes other than spaghetti, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn. Excellent baker though! - He didn’t jump out of the window because he forgot the door exists. It’s his way of being comedic. (And it worked.) - He loves Sans’s puns, but he only gets so salty because he feels like the timing could be better. - Almost burned down the house once when he tried to make spaghetti the way Undyne did it, so he learned to tone tf down. He only gets rambunctious when he cooks with Undyne cause, come on, it’s fun to go nuts every now and again. - Isn’t afraid to curse, but he doesn’t do it cause it’s rude.
Sans:
- Is over 5′2 and is literally big boned. (All the Sanses are, really.) - Doesn’t actually know that Papyrus loves his puns. - The jacket he wears is something he made, so this means he’s good at sewing. - He went outside without a shirt once, so when he made the joke about the cold going through him, he opened his jacket as the wind went through. He got sick like a dumbass hours later. - Speaking of dumbasses, he managed to get Papyrus to call him one for getting sick. He’s managed to get Papyrus to cuss also. (They still love each other dearly, don’t worry.) - He totally doesn’t have PTSD. Nope, not at all. It’s definitely not from the genocide routes and seeing his brother get killed multiple times. - Because of his trauma and not having the proper resources to help it, he suffers a form of CFS. (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.)
Edge:
- Is over 7′10 without the boots. Is 8′2 with them. - No one knows how he can wear heels in the snow. (He runs in them for crying out loud.) - Can be easily flustered when it comes to flirting, but when he’s in the mood to be saucy? Oh boy. - Is practically a professional chef and baker. Undyne’s lessons made him realize that he has to teach himself if he wants to provide decent meals. - Is rough with his brother, but he isn’t straight up mean. It’s more along the lines of him struggling to be kind and gentle out in public. - Half of his encounters usually don’t involve him doing anything. He’s just that intimidating. - People mostly know him for being loud and angry 24/7, but this isn’t always the case. He can control his volume when he needs to, and is actually pretty damn tame. It’s pretty rare to see him genuinely angry.
Red:
- Is the shortest Sans in this list standing at 5′0. - His sweating mostly comes from him trying not to piss off his brother despite the fact that said brother’s made it clear that he would never be angry at him. - He has PTSD, but due to the environment, his symptoms tend to be worse. - He’s resorted to cutting himself several times. His brother has no clue though. - Struggles with his moral code more than his brother. He’s torn between following his own path and suffering possible consequences from the king, and being loyal to the king at all costs to avoid his wrath. - His shoes are always untied, so it’s not uncommon to see him on the ground face down. - If given the chance to take his mind off of things, he will take it. Drugs are off-hands though. You can thank Edge for that.
Stretch:
- Is over 7′6 when he’s not slouching. - The cig’s gonna be lit, but he doesn’t smoke. He only does it cause it makes him look cool. - He actually doesn’t use any drugs, but he did get himself high one time via weed brownies for pure shits and giggles. Boy, was he high off his ass. - Unlike the classic Sans, his jokes have better timing. He’s made Blueberry laugh several times. - “I can make every dirty joke in existence... AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!” - Stretch at one point in time. - Has an endless supply of hoodies and it confuses his brother to this day. - He’s learned to give mercy while making you wish you were dead. (I may or may not have watched Rising of the Shield Hero.)
Blueberry:
- Is over 5′6 with the boots. Is only 5′5 without them. - Has a bod that screams the power to wrestle BEARS. - Someone teach him how to cook. He keeps overcooking the fucking TACO MEAT- - He has the body of a himbo, the personality of a himbo, and the mind of a himbo- okay, maybe the last one is a little inaccurate. He can be pretty smart. - May or may not be a bit of a perv. - His smile is so bright that it lightens up just about everyone’s moods. - Is a fantastic artist and no one can tell him otherwise.
Pup (Swapfell):
- Is over 7′3 when he’s not slouching. - Does actually smoke. - His blind eye was given from his brother playing far too rough. - He likes to rob people, but will learn to stop if the victim is shown to be far too powerful for him to handle. - Despite his not-so-welcomed attitude, when he’s put in a place where there is no threat of his brother, he can be quite friendly. - Has tried to feel people up in the past, but constantly keeps having his ass handed to him. - Makes only dirty jokes.
Blackberry (Swapfell):
- Is over 5′7 with the boots. Is only 5′4 without them. - Really needs his ass handed to him. - He can say he loves his brother all he wants. Doesn’t excuse why he treats him like shit. - He tends to poison his food when it comes to others. It could possibly contribute to why his brother steals other’s money. (And by “poison”, I mean he’s not a good cook. At all.) - Although he fights a lot, his body doesn’t quite match up to par, and he hates it. - Is easily jealous and possessive. - Surprisingly doesn’t actually swear when he swears.
Slim (Fellswap Red):
- Is over 7′3, and he doesn’t slouch. - Has the fluffiest jacket in existence and wears a lot of the bigger collars. - Is an absolute sweetheart when his brother’s not around. (More so than Red.) - Although he often drinks hot sauce, he’d rather prefer BBQ sauce. - Actually handles his PTSD better than his other lazy counterparts. - Has a bad habit of falling in love too easily. - Is very reserved and quiet for the most part.
Bloodberry (Fellswap Red):
- Is over 5′9 with the boots. Is only 5′6 without them. - Has a bad tendency to be saucy with someone he likes. - Is a decent cook when it comes down to it. - Also struggles with being kind in public. - Has taken a liking to archery. He’s even become good at it. - He hates the queen, but mainly because she’s always cruel to her subjects. He hopes to overthrow her for the betterment of the kingdom. - Unlike Blackberry, he does care for his brother.
Wine (Fellswap Gold):
- Is over 7′4, and he doesn’t slouch. - Since he mostly writes, he’s become a very good writer and artist. - Whenever he’s given a compliment, he sits in silence. He usually doesn’t receive them, so when he does, he kind of just.. breaks. - Like his blacklist, he has a list of names of those who have been extremely kind to him. - Tries not to become someone who has to depend on someone else. - He has days where the braces on his canines hurt like all hell, so he’ll wind up with tears in his eyes. - The constant oppression gets to him sometimes. He isn’t violent, but he will continuously cry and whimper.
Coffee (Fellswap Gold):
- Is over 6′0 with the boots. Is only 5′10 without them. - Wants to try and fix the kingdom so its people aren’t so oppressed. - Will be there for his brother within seconds. - Learned to be a decent cook for his brother. - The oppression gets to him also, but it’s mainly from the people. - A lot of the clothes he and his brother wear are from his own hands. - Has taught his brother some military fighting to protect himself as he is related to someone who the people hate.
Axe (Horrortale):
- Is the biggest Sans on this list standing at 6′7. - Is also the strongest in terms of physical strength. - Really needs to stop seeing human flesh and regular food as the same thing. - To those he cares for, he becomes almost like a guard dog but 10x scarier. - None of the Sanses and Papyruses aside from his own brother mess with him. - If someone is not scared of him for whatever reason, he has some respect for that. He just doesn’t really show it. - Gets easily spooked by really loud noises.
Everest (Horrortale):
- The tallest Papyrus standing at 9′2 with the boots. He’s only 9′0 without them. This also assumes he isn’t slouching, but he always is. - After being without food for so long, he struggles to not eat human flesh. - His kindness challenges classic Papyrus’s. - He hit a growth spurt far too early, and it’s why he’s slouching. (It’s kind of like he suffered Gigantism, but he stopped growing eventually.) - Compared to the other active counterparts, he’s the weakest. - Because of him being so thin, he tends to freeze far more easily. - When he’s pushed in a corner, he will fight back, but it’s best if his brother is with him.
And that ends that. I had these ideas going for a while, so I decided to spill them here. Hope y’all like these.
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jadekitty777 · 4 years ago
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Baker’s Dozen, Part 1
Oh my god we are at the home stretch and I am still amazed I managed to do all eight days. This is a two-parter, so the second chapter will be up tomorrow.
Day 7: First Morning @taiqrowweek
Rating: K
Words: 6,000
Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]
Ao3 Link: Baker’s Dozen
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Early Saturday afternoon found downtown L.A. bustling with traffic on the sidewalks and the road. Qrow found himself in the heart of Pershing Square, lying on the grass and enjoying the midday sun beaming down on him, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.
“Oh my god! Qrow Branwen?!”
His eyes shot open, seeing a small gaggle of women hurrying his way as every head within earshot turned to look right at him.
Oh right.
That was why.
He shot to his feet, yelling over his shoulder as he sprinted away, “Sorry! No autographs today!”
He thanked whatever gods might be out there that his last role forced him to stay in excellent shape, because he was easily able to outdistance his pursuers. Unfortunately, as he skirted around the foot traffic, their yells only seemed to be attracting more attention his way. He ever spotted one desperate teenager pulling a phone from her purse.
He was about to be all over Instagram, wasn’t he?
Knowing this called for every actor’s Superman disguise, Qrow pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shoving them onto his face as he took the first alleyway he could find. Coming out on the other side, he slowed his pace to a fast walk, lowering his head to avoid further detection and slipped into the doorway of one of the businesses a few doors down before the other crowd could catch up.
He sighed, grateful for the dark atmosphere inside the building as he pulled out his phone. Alright, time to call his driver and get out of dodge.
“Table for one?” The question had him jerking around, seeing a young woman in a cowboy getup smiling his way from a little podium. Her golden hair was particularly eye catching, long and untamed in a way that reminded him of his twin sister’s. Her name tag, which was in the shape of a star, read ‘Yang’.
He took in the environment around her, noticing the array of booths and tables that made up the majority of the room, and realized he’d ducked right into a restaurant. “Uh, no sorry I uh-” He started to say, only to trail off as he actually considered it. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like he’d eaten, and it would take his driver about the same time to get there when having to slog through the weekend traffic. “I mean, yeah, just me. Can I get a booth as isolated as possible?”
“You got it!” Yang agreed, picking up one of the menus and leading him to a booth in the back. He couldn’t help but notice she even had spurs on her boots that clanked when she walked. The walls were decorated with a similar Texan flair, bull horns and deer antlers interspaced with paintings of farm homes and woodland creatures and metal lone stars. How quaint.
Despite the aesthetics though, it was obvious from the minute he sat down and the bench creaked loudly, that upkeep wasn’t a priority. Or, he reassessed as he took note of the lack of patrons despite it being the lunch hour, it probably just wasn’t in the budget. That probably wasn’t a promising sign on the quality for his upcoming meal.
“Ruby will be with you soon.” Yang said, setting the menu before him. The cover had the name ‘The Dragon’s Den’ proudly printed across it. Wait, that wasn’t southern. Did he somehow run all the way to Chinatown instead?
“Uh, thanks.” He flipped the menu, but with the lighting so low, he couldn’t read the finer script. He pulled off his sunglasses, setting them on the table before looking through his options. Despite the slightly confused name, everything within seemed pretty par for the course; roast beef, fried chicken, catfish, and a large array of barbequed meats that any Tramp off the street would gladly steal for his Lady.
“Howdy there, can I get you started w- Oh my god!”
Ah, shit.
He looked up, seeing yet another starstruck gaze aimed at him by a petite girl in a similar get up to the hostess but was a few years younger – was she even old enough to work here?
He held up his hand in a desperate attempt to ward off any screaming. “Kid, I swear to give you the best tip of your life if you keep quiet.”
His waitress pressed her notepad against her mouth, a muffled squeak escaping around it. After a moment, she took a breath, then lowered the notepad slightly to reveal a sly smile. “I’ll make sure Yang seats any customers far away from you if you promise me an autograph and a picture too.”
He snorted. What a devious little brat! He could appreciate that. “Deal.”
“Hehe, yes!” She gave a little hop before quickly composing herself, placing her pen to the page. “Alright stranger that I’ve never met and do not know the name of, what would you like to drink?”
“Don’t oversell it kid. And water’s fine.”
“Coming right up!” She scurried away. He watched her detour towards the front, dragging the blond woman to the back where they disappeared behind a set of swinging double doors.
He counted down from five in his head.
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!” Came two screams from the kitchen.
Right on cue.
“OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!!” Was the next shout he heard, the tone definitely masculine.
Yang came back out first, her gaze lingering his way before she hurried away, giggling all the while. Ruby was next, setting a glass of water on his table along with a straw.
“Your drink, mon-sir.”
He laughed. “Did you mean monsieur?”
“Yeah, that one!” She giggled good-naturedly. Despite the fact she was an obvious fangirl, he found himself taking a liking to her.
“Heard a bit of yelling back there.” He gestured towards the doorway.
“Yeah, dad just thinks we’re being dumb. He doesn’t believe you’re out here.”
Dad? Well, that might explain why it seemed this rustic establishment was getting away with breaking child labor laws. “Eh, it’s probably better that way anyways.” Kids were cute; but adults fawning over him was always a little weird, especially if they were around his age.
“He wouldn’t know how to appreciate the moment anyways.”  Ruby clacked her heels together, spurs chiming when she did. “So were you ready to order or did you want a few minutes?”
He glanced down towards the menu. He wasn’t really used to food like this. Growing up, his dad would favor getting the rice cooker going rather than tend to the BBQ gathering dust outside. As for now, his career tended to call for strict dietery needs depending on what shape he needed to be in for each role – none of which ever called for anything steeped so heavily in grease and fat. “Any suggestions?”
“Ooo,” She tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully. “Well dad just took out the kolaches a half hour ago, so those are extra good right now.”
The question was out of his mouth before he could think to fake it, “What’s a kolach?”
“Oh, it’s a Texas thing. Basically, it’s a pasty with filling. Today’s strawberry, which is my favorite.”
“Trying to sell me dessert before the main course?”
“Well yeah! That’s like the highlight of being an adult, right? When I move out, that’s how I’m gonna do it.” Ruby said proudly. “But if you want to be all traditional about it, then by far dad’s best dish is the country-fried steak.”
He knew what that dish was at least. Steak fried in batter and slathered in gravy. It sounded like a heart attack on a plate. He closed the menu decisively, handing it to her. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Great!” She quickly wrote it down.
As the girl hurried over to go place his order, Qrow took the opportunity to look up the address and text it to An. ‘Pick me up in forty-five?’
‘Certainly sir.’ She replied.
He had just switched back to his browser, when Ruby came back, setting a small plate in front of him. The Kolach was about the size of a cookie, with a breading cooked to a nice golden brown and the bright red strawberry filling dusted over with powdered sugar.
“Here you go! The best dessert you’ll ever have.” She proclaimed.
It certainly looked good, but it wouldn’t have anything on his mother’s Ichigo Daifuku. “Maybe second greatest kiddo.”
Ruby looked about ready to defend her dessert’s honor when a call of ‘waiter’ had her drawing back. “Um, gotta go. Enjoy!”
Picking up the pastry, Qrow turned his attention back to his phone. He eyed the 2.9 rating the restaurant had on Yelp, his stomach turning with trepidation as he took his first bite. The outer crust had a nice crunch but the inner dough was fluffy and light, with a hint of butter. The sweetness also hit with less punch than he was expecting, the strawberry standing mostly on its own with only the sugar on top adding to it. Just the way he liked it.
He was right, it didn’t out beat the Daifuku… but it was pretty close.
As he polished it off, he pulled up the reviews, scanning through them.
‘Great food but the decor is just awful. Pretty sure the place hasn’t had an upgrade since the 70s.’
‘Nice staff but everyone looks like they should be operating out of a western drama.’
‘Terrible! The kid waiting on me didn’t even look fifteen. She was super clumsy too. Dropped a whole cup of BBQ right on my sweater. When I demanded to speak to the owner about it, the hostess gave me attitude about how he was too busy and called ME a blowhard! What a circus show! Never coming back!’
‘The food’s amazing, but the wait times are ridiculous. Forty-five minutes for a rack of ribs? Is there only one cook back there?’
And on they went. Complaints about the location, the confusing name, more on wait time and the staff. But, beyond a few issues on the food arriving too cold, there was nothing but stellar compliments for the taste. He lent back in his seat, hearing it give another dying groan. He watched Yang sit another table of five while Ruby bustled about to get their drinks. Eyed his crumb-dusted plate, realizing the treat was probably offered to him because someone hungry was more likely to notice the wait for the main course. What a sad state. Apparently great food but poor management and lack of funds to fix anything. The place probably wasn’t going to last another year.
Ruby was all smiles when she came back to him, clearing his dish. “So, did you like it?”
“It was excellent, just like you promised.” Qrow told her honestly. For a split second, he almost let that be the end of it all. To just have his meal and leave, forgetting all about the reviews that foreshadowed the Dragon Den’s closure and the innocent kid whose family would be facing thousands of dollars in debt.
Instead he found himself strangely invested. Perhaps it was just human curiosity or pure boredom, but whatever it was, something made him lean forward, cross his arms over the table and ask, “So Ruby, you said your dad’s the one cooking, but who runs the place?”
“He does.”
He arched a brow. “He’s the owner and the chef? And he makes his kids work here?”
She shifted on her feet. “Uh well, I only help out on weekends and maybe a weekday here or there when dad really needs me. Yang’s got it real bad tho. She has to rush from her classes at Cal State to here five times a week.”
As the suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, he almost asked, but figured the deliberate omission about the whereabouts of their mother was all the answer he needed.
“There’s no other waiters?” He asked instead.
“No, we’ve got a few part timers, just not enough for a full day. Dad keeps saying when business picks back up he’ll hire a few more and a new chef too but,” Ruby averted her gaze. “That was a year ago.”
“What happened?” He pressed.
She shook her head. “We kept losing staff and now I just think he’s too busy. He sometimes doesn’t even come home. He’ll just sleep at one of the tables and then be up for the next day.”
“He’s here every day? From open to close?”
“Yeah.”
He whistled low between his teeth, placing his palm under his chin. He’d had some rough shoots over the years, but at least he had the solace of taking breaks. “Wow. That’s awful. And I bet a teenager like you hates having to work when you’d rather be at home playing video games.”
“Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Ruby refuted, before amending shortly after, “Uh well, most times, at least. Jerky customers kind of ruin my day. But otherwise, it’s okay.”
He had a feeling it was anything but. “You sure ‘bout that?”
“Yeah. I mean, when we first moved here, this place was dad’s dream.” She waved vaguely in the air as if to encompass the little establishment. “He always loved making people happy by cooking for them. Even when I was a kid he’d tell me that the gift of a good meal is the smile on someone’s face when they eat it.” She faced him, resolute and steady. “I know it’s important to him, so if I can help him keep this place by working here every now and again, then that’s just what I’ll do.”
He studied her carefully, but nothing he could see seemed imply she was lying in any way. It was a value he could certainly respect, as he and his sister had grown up being told the importance of caring for and respecting their elders. But living in America taught him that not all families operated this way. It was surprising, but uplifting, to see it here. “That’s rather admirable of you.”
Before they could say more, a hiss of ‘Ruby!’ drew her up short, and then Yang was sidling over, an impressive stack of plates balanced precariously along her left arm. “Table 3 needs their check before they bounce on us.”
“Oh right.” She paused, just long enough to place the pastry dish on top of her sister’s already full load with an overly sweet smile.
Once his waitress had left, Qrow said, “Guess I’m distracting her.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. You can distract half the nation.” Yang replied. “Must be awful, never having enough privacy.”
He shrugged it off, as if he hadn’t sprinted several blocks twenty minutes ago. “Comes with the business.”
“Well, I’d hate it. I get enough attention as it is.” She shifted some of the weight on her arm.
“Ah, what? You’re the total heartthrob in school or something?” He could see that. She had other assets that matched Raven’s – and he remembered how often that had the boys trailing after her like stray dogs desperate for affection.
“Or something.” She echoed vaguely. “I’m going to go check on your meal.”
It was only as she turned away, he noticed her right hand as it caught the faint light from above. The shine to the skin too bright to be natural and its immobility too revealing that the limb was anything but real.  
Or something indeed.
God, maybe he should pitch a show because this was starting to feel like a classic TV sitcom. A single dad, running a failing restaurant and just struggling to get by to provide for his two kids, one of whom was disabled and the other was sacrificing the last of her childhood. Ruby, with her boundless optimism, would be the star of course. Yang would be the sassy, fiery-tempered co-host. Their dad would be a bumbling fool with a heart of gold. It would either top the charts or fail after the first season.
Not having much else to do as he waited, he texted the inane thought off to his agent.
Your writing leaves a lot to be desired. Stick to acting Qrow. Willow ordered.
He chuckled silently, replying: Is this why you gave your daughters such icy names? Because they were born from someone so cold?
Watch your tongue Branwen or I’ll tell Tommy Wiseau you want to co-star with him.
Ouch, I’ve got freezerburn.
I’m again questioning why I work with you.
You love me. He sent an obnoxious amount of kiss emojis along with it just to really annoy her.
She sent back swords. Ah, she was the best.  
He decided to leave her alone, switching over to one of his racing game apps and immersing himself in the competition. Every now and again, he’d catch sight of the girls in the corner of his eye. Ruby taking orders and checking on customers. Yang fetching refills or cleaning up. His red Alpine racer was just passing the finish line of the second race when Ruby was coming back.
“Here you go, the best meal in the house.” She set down the dish before him. It was an excellent presentation, like it came right out of a cooking magazine. The fry-battered steak was a light, golden brown, slathered with a brownish-white, peppered gravy. A generous helping of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and bright yellow corn, both flecked with more pepper, completed the meal. All of it was framed by the plate with its dark blue flower trim that made the colors pop and really sold the southern charm.
“Thanks kiddo.” He said, feeling his stomach grumble.
“Enjoy!” She hesitated, adding in a small rush, “Just um, call me if you need me!”
He unrolled his utensils as she hurried away, shaking his head. She was probably hoping he’d call her every five minutes, just so she’d have more of an excuse to talk to him. Poor kid probably thought she was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. He didn’t let it bother him. After all, everyone who’s ever sat down with an interview with him knew he was a terrible conversationalist.
He cut down into the steak, finding it came apart easily and was perfectly cooked through. He dripped the bottom in the gravy, twisted it around on his fork, said a silent prayer to his arteries, and took the first bite.
Oh.
Oh.
Holy Mother of Mary.
The fried breading crunched nicely but the steak practically melted into his mouth, combining with the gravy and a series of spices he couldn’t even begin to name but knew it was doing something wonderful to his taste buds.
He hummed happily. It was good. It was beyond good. As he cut another piece and took another bite, finding it as delectable as the last, he still couldn’t believe it. There was just no way anything could be this delicious.
He was over three-quarters of the way through the steak by the time Ruby came to check on him.
“Sooo,” She glanced at his plate then to him, smirking, “You like it, don’t you?”
“Don’t look so smug.” Qrow replied halfheartedly, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and hearing her fading giggle.
He didn’t get it though; with food like this, the place should be packed. If people could wait in line to get his autograph for six hours, then why couldn’t they wait a measly half hour for an incredible meal?
“Hey kid.” He said when Ruby came back around again, this time to collect his empty plate.
“Yeah?”
“We still got to take your picture. Any chance I can give my compliments to the chef while we’re at it?”
“If Yang can be in it too, you got yourself a deal.”
He chuckled. Should have expected that. “You got it.”
“Eeeee!” She squealed, hopping in excitement. “Okay, okay, let’s go now!”
He obliged, finding it hard to move at first. Wow, he was stuffed. He managed to follow Ruby to the back, seeing her wave her sister over before he was led through the double doors.
Walking into the kitchen was like walking backstage on a set – wherein the stage was just a collection of pieces meant to play their positions and what was behind the curtain was where the magic truly happened to bring it all together. But instead of sound design and lights, it was sizzling grills and knives chopping down. And instead of half a dozen people rushing about, there was only one. He was mincing up an onion with a swift finesse only the best of chefs had while singing along with a cassette player that was peddling out country tunes.
“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nooow.”
Singing badly, Qrow thought, cringing inwardly.
“Dad, no!” Ruby cried. Not even looking their way, the man just continued on, more loudly and off-key then before.
“Oh god, please smite me.” Yang groaned as she walked in, hiding her face in her hand.
Her sister raced across the room, pulling at his sleeve, hissing insistently. “Dad, we have company.”
“Meaning I have an audience that actually appreciates my performance?” His laughter was hearty as he peered over her head. The cutting stopped immediately. “U-Uhh…” Was all he managed to splutter before looking down at his daughter. “Uh?!”
“Told you he was here.” She said in a know-it-all sort of tone.
Used to this, Qrow just cleared his throat, introducing himself even if it felt a bit arbitrary. “Qrow Branwen. A pleasure to meet you.”
The man didn’t reply straight away, still taken aback by his very presence – or perhaps, from the faint lines of panic crinkling his brow, weighing over the fact he’d just served a celebrity without actually knowing it. Whatever it was, he seemed to catch his bearings, setting down his knife and crossing the kitchen. As he introduced himself in turn, he held out his hand, “Believe me, pleasure’s all mine. Name’s Taiyang Xiao Long.”
Xiao Long? Strange, he didn’t appear to have any Chinese in him, which likely meant he was married into the surname. At least now he really understood the restaurant’s title. Qrow shook his hand, surprised by the strong grip. He could feel the calluses built onto his hands from years of using cooking utensils.
“I apologize,” Taiyang said as he pulled back. “Had I taken my daughter’s word for it, I would have offered you a meal more extravagant. Or at the very least, some good wine.”
He had to keep himself from chuckling at the way Ruby stuck out her tongue at her dad’s back. “That’s alright. If I’m being honest, that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in quite some time.”
The chef’s cheeks turned a little rosy but his smile was just like his daughter’s, toothy and bright. “That’s mighty kind of you to say.” Heh, cute. He even talked like the aesthetic.
Before they could converse more, the ringing of a timer drew Taiyang’s attention. “Ah, pardon me.” He hurried to the stove, pausing only long enough to wash his hands.
“Sooooo,” Ruby stretched out the word as she slid back over, pulling out her phone. “Picture?”
“Wait, hold on!” Yang ripped off her hat, finger-combing through her golden locks. “Does my hair look okay?”
Her sister gave her a thumb’s up. “Like a rat’s nest. So yes- Ack!” She got smacked in the face with the hat.
“Girls, don’t be bothering him like that.” Their father chastised, stirring something in a large pot.
“We’re not!” Yang claimed.
He shook his head, but it was hard to tell if it was at her or at the soup he was tasting. “Really Mr. Branwen, you don’t have to.”
Ruby looked scandalized. “What?!”
“He owes us. I kept all the other customers away from him.” His eldest explained.
His head whipped around. “That’s worse! A man shouldn’t have to pay for his privacy!” As he pulled down some spices, he continued, “What you two ought to be doing is just appreciating the moment.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea dad. Now if only I had something to capture it with and keep it forever. Oh wait!” Ruby waved around her phone violently. “I DO!”
Unable to hold it in anymore, Qrow started to laugh. He was right; they would make a good sitcom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such interesting people.” He addressed the chef, “It’s alright, really. I did promise them.”
Taiyang opened his mouth to protest further, but another timer went off – how many did he have? – so he just said, “To each his own I suppose.” Before he turned to go check something in the oven.
Taking the opportunity for what it was, he held up his arms. “Alright, bring it in ladies.”
Ruby tossed her own hat next to Yang’s, giggling as his arm came around her shoulders. Yang was a little more uncomfortable, so he let his hand rest on her shoulder, above where he assumed her arm ended, and felt her relax almost instantly.
“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” They all smiled widely as the camera shutter clicked. They pulled away and Ruby looked it over to make sure it was good, before squealing happily. “Oh gosh it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re – oof! – welcome.” He huffed out when she nearly tackled him with a hug. He pat her back. “Now, I believe I promised an autograph too?”
She grinned hugely. “Right, yes!” She grabbed Yang, “Come on we got to find something for him to sign!” The two hurried to a small office, and he caught Ruby saying, “He could even sign your arm!”
“You think?” Yang’s voice faded to the background, overtaken by a loud sizzling.
As Qrow came as close as he dared, Taiyang said, “Thank you for this. You really made their year.” He was stirring the onion he had minced earlier around a nice heap of melting butter in a hot pan.
“Like I said, it’s fine.” He echoed.
“Still, it’s appreciated.” The burner was flipped off and the pan taken from the heat, but the onions continued to sauté.  “‘Fraid I can’t offer you much in compensation though, beyond giving you your meal free.”
He tilted his head. “Can you afford that?”
“Really, I insist. As they say, happiness is priceless.” Was the curt reply.
Only the rich say that. He scoffed at the obvious farce – not that Taiyang noticed as he turned away to attend to something else. Subtlety by words had never been his strong suit, and it wouldn’t be in the next five minutes either. So, he cut to the chase, “Listen bud, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know everything, but it’s pretty obvious from the state of this place to the lack of non-relative employees, that you’re not exactly in good standing.”
“An astute observation, but I don’t believe you needed to bring up all that just to make a case to pay for your meal.” He was back to chopping – this time, potatoes. Stubborn as a mule was a term invented for this guy, wasn’t it?
“It wasn’t.” Qrow assured. “It was a case to buy your restaurant.”
The knife chopped down so hard, it went right into the wood. Taiyang turned around to stare at him. A clatter to their left caught Qrow’s attention. The girls were both standing just outside of the office, the things they’d brought for him to sign now strewn across the ground.
No one spoke.
A beeping filled the air, and still no one spoke.
“Uh. Timer?” He said, awkwardly.
Taiyang seemed to blink out of whatever daze he was in. He came forward, almost aggressively enough that Qrow tried not to shrink back, but the other man only reached over his shoulder to turn off the timer, side-eyeing him as he walked away.
“Really?” Ruby’s small but hopeful voice shook the tense air.
Yang’s was more suspicious. “You do know you’re buying a failing business, right?”
He offered the duo a smile. “Won’t be failing when I’m done with it. This place just needs a bit of sprucing up. More staff. Maybe a new location-”
Slam! Went a cooking sheet on the countertop.
“No.” Taiyang said rigidly.
Unperturbed, Qrow carried on. “Alright, no new location. Kind of a bad move but I can work with that. But the name has got to-”
“Stop.” He commanded. “Do not treat me like a fool. I may not have grown up here, but I learned rather quickly that folks around here will do a lot for 15 minutes of fame. I will not allow you to do the same to my family.”
“What, dad-!” Yang started
“Can’t you just-!” Ruby spoke over her.
“Quiet, both of you!” He bellowed, before turning his back to them, grabbing some tongs to turn the racks of ribs around a bit more aggressively then needed. “The answer is no, and that’s final. Now, I will thank you kindly to take your empty offer and walk it out the door.”
When the girls started to raise protest again, Qrow was the one to silence them this time, raising a finger to his lips, before he took a few steps closer to the chef. “Believe me when I say the offer is not empty. Your daughter over there tells me how much this place meant to you when you first got it, but now you’re letting it rot under your feet. Is that really how you want it to go out?” The other man’s jaw clenched and he refused to look at him. He took that as a good sign, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you and your family.”
For his efforts, a set of tongs were shoved so close to his face, they almost touched his nose.
Behind the makeshift weapon, Taiyang’s eyes bored into his own. He spoke steady and sharp, “Mr. Branwen, I will say this once and only once. I have put everything I got, my entire heart and soul, into this restaurant. It is the only thing I have for my girls and I am NOT about to gamble it away on some publicity stunt to stroke a rich man’s ego. So, you ask me to believe you? Then come back with a lawyer and a contract full of terms we both agree on, as I will settle for nothing less. Am I understood?”
The storm brewing in those blue eyes didn’t intimidate him, because this close, he could see the dark circles etching a deep exhaustion around them. The mark of a person desperate and at the end of their rope. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Qrow could tell that he was a good man, as well as aggravatingly hardheaded.
“Got it.” He told him, reaching into his pocket to fetch his shades. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”
As he pulled them on and turned away, he thought perhaps he heard Tai give some biting remark about how tomorrow, perhaps he’d be offered the moon. But he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he crossed over to where the girls still stood, frozen – but unlike their father, they did nothing to hide the tentative hope on their faces.
Qrow lent down, fetching the sharpie and two sheets of paper, using a nearby counter to pen out the autographs. He even took the time to add his signature calligraphy, making the tail of the Q look like a feather. He offered each one in turn, “Ruby, Yang. Thank you for the pleasant experience.”
Yang was slow to take hers, as if she might say something. In the end she only thanked him.
Contrastingly, Ruby’s vibrancy was back, an almost nervous energy pitching her tone as she quickly offered to walk him to the door. It didn’t take him long to figure out why, as she hid her face in her treasured autograph and groaned. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s just so, so, embarrassing!”
“He’s not so bad.” He refuted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Against his fingertips, he felt the buzz from his phone signaling an incoming message – no doubt An letting him know she’d arrived. “He’s playing it smart. Even I don’t do a job without a contract.”
“Still, he could have been more polite.”
Her tone allowed no argument, so he didn’t bother to tell her that for him, it was actually a refreshing change of pace. He had all sorts of people tripping over themselves to fawn at his feet and, while some celebrities ate up all that attention, Qrow had certainly never been one of them. It was nice being talked to like an equal – a privilege often reserved only to his closest coworkers and manager.
There was also just something so honestly genuine about Tai. Call it simple intuition, but he knew what it took to play all sorts of characters and he could say without a doubt that the blond wouldn’t be able to fool a preschooler if he tried. He was the kind of man who hid nothing and wore his emotions right on his sleeve.
Qrow, who shuttered his behind fake smiles and sunglasses all day, could really appreciate a quality like that.
“It was really amazing to meet you.” Ruby said as she pulled open the front door for him. “Like, as in the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-me amazing.”
“You’re setting the standard pretty high there, considering it won’t be the last time you see me.” Qrow said, stepping outside.
Her expression lifted, her youth seeing to shine through in her eyes. “You mean, you’re really coming back? Ever after dad was, well, a total jerkwad?”
“Well, you know what they say. You feed a crow once, and it’ll come back to roost.” He pulled down his sunglasses, enough to wink at her. “See you ‘round kiddo.”
“Y-Yeah! See you! Thank you so much, Mr. Branwen!”
He was pretty sure she waved after his car long after it left the street.
~
Three days would pass before Qrow would return to the Dragon’s Den. Like a knight readying for battle, he stood in front of the door over an hour before opening time.
When Tai finally arrived, he almost dropped his keys in the gutter at the mere sight of him.
“Why hello thar pardner.” Qrow drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”
For a moment, he just stared blankly. But finally, a snort escaped him. “You need to do more westerns if that’s the best you got, pardner.” He stepped forward, adding more softly, “You, came back.”
He nodded. “’Fraid I don’t have the moon to offer you, but I got the next best thing.”
Taking his cue, the gentlemen standing nearby fixed up his tie and strode forward. “Mr. Xiao Long? I’m Hei Xiong. I work in property management. It’s my understanding Mr. Branwen here would like to strike a deal with you.”
“Does he now?” That same bite Qrow’d heard in the kitchen was back, the blonde’s hackles already raised. Not missing a beat, Hei ruffled through a few papers in his folder, pulling out the top one to show him. Tai read it aloud. “Claim of co-ownership?”
“Yes. Mr. Branwen is interested in becoming your business partner.” The manager supplied.
“…Does he now?” He echoed as he looked towards Qrow, but the fiery attitude he’d expelled like a shield had doused some.
“We would be happy to discuss it in more detail this morning, if you’ve available?” Hei asked.
Anticipation held Qrow’s breath and anxiety jumped his heart as he waited for the other man’s response.
For the second time, he was rewarded with another of Tai’s bright and toothy grins. “I certainly am.” He stepped past them both and opened the door to the Den. “Please come in.”
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365elephantsoap · 4 years ago
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MEATLOAF
I wanted to make a proper Sunday dinner. In our house, growing up, lunch on Sundays was a big deal. We would all gather around the family dinning room table and Mom would cook a pot roast or a ham or something like that. There would be side dishes and rolls. There would be more effort put into the making of the Sunday meal than what was usually spent during the week. I have attempted to implement a Sunday meal in my adult life a number of times, but Sundays usually end up being chore days. Michael is rarely up before noon on a Sunday. By the time he gets up, I’ve already had a decent breakfast and I am not interested in a lunch. Dinner rolls around and I’m starving because I ended up eating a handful of tortilla chips at 2:00. I am also unenthusiastic about cooking anything elaborate because I scrubbed the house from top to bottom.
This has changed slightly since Michael and the Cabbage are home all the time. Chores happen during the week. I don’t have to spend a lot of time on Sundays getting ready for Mondays because there just isn’t that much to prepare. I have more time to spend on prepping food and testing out some experimental recipes, like potato and cactus enchiladas. That was a recipe I found online and it was a bust. The cactus part was good, but the recipe was more potato than cactus. I think I will try a mushroom and cactus filling next time. This is not the first time I have followed a recipe found online that has left me disappointed. The first time I made a meatloaf with Beyond Meat patties, I used their very own recipe from their website. It wasn’t that the meatloaf turned out badly. It was that it was lacking flavor and a bit boring. I have been hesitant to make another attempt because Beyond Meat is not cheap.
When we sat down to plan the menu for the week, I decided that maybe I needed to try again with the meatloaf. We would have a traditional Sunday dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with brown (mushroom) gravy and green beans. A few people have asked me what is in a Beyond Meatloaf. I couldn’t tell if they were asking me how I made me meatloaf or what is in Beyond Meat. Beyond Meat is a plant based fake meat product that I think tastes like ground beef. I’m not really a good judge of that because I haven’t had ground beef in so long that I do not remember what it tastes like. Michael says that Beyond Meat doesn’t taste like ground beef, but he thinks it is pretty darn tasty. I don’t rely too much on fake meat products. I use them in recipes more now because that is the easiest way to get Michael to eat a vegetarian meal. What I like about Beyond Meat is that it is made of beans and brown rice and is not filled with tofu or gluten.
But what’s in my meatloaf?
That’s a very good question. I used a mixture of garlic butter croutons and saltines for my bread crumb mixture. I think it was a cup. I chopped some mushrooms and two shallots in the food processor. I sautéed this just to soften up the shallots. Then I mixed one package of Beyond Meat ‘ground meat’ with the mushroom/shallot mixture, bread crumbs, some garlic powder, some pepper, some basil, some tarragon, some tomato paste, maybe half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and some Worcestershire sauce. I smooshed it into a loaf shape and baked it in a bread loaf pan at 375 for thirty minutes, covered. After thirty minutes, I removed the aluminum foil and poured a mixture of BBQ sauce, ketchup, Tamari and a fancy mustard all over the top. Then the meatloaf cooked for another thirty minutes, uncovered.
I think this was the tastiest meatloaf I have ever made, real meat included, but I am an inventive chef. I make a better meal without a recipe. Some is my form of measurement. That is probably why I am not that great of a baker. Exact measurements are boring. I mean, I can do it if I have to, but luckily for me this is not a baked goods kind of household. There is quite a bit of creativity happening when I start cooking without a recipe. I like to imagine that I am Remy from Ratatouille. I cook from the heart.
It is incredibly frustrating for anyone who wants to repeat something I have made.
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grillpartszone-blog · 7 years ago
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laresearchette · 3 years ago
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Thursday, July 01, 2021 Canadian TV Listing (Times Eastern)
WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: TOP CHEF AMATEURS (Food Network Canada) 9:00pm/9:30pm
WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT NO SUDDEN MOVE (Premiering on July 02 on Crave at 9:00pm) THE MIGHTY ONES (TBD - YTV) IMPRACTICAL JOKERS AWARDS SHOW (TBD)
NEW TO AMAZON PRIME/CRAVE/NETFLIX CANADA/CBC GEM:
AMAZON PRIME THE IMPOSSIBLE JERRY MAGUIRE JUMANJI (1995) LAWRENCE OF ARABIA SOULMATES (Season 1) WHAT MEN WANT
CRAVE TV NO SUDDEN MOVE THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY THE HOBBIT: THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG H.APPINESS *SHORT FILM REVOLUTION OF THE DALEKS *DOCTOR WHO: SEASON 12 SPECIAL KING KONG THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION TOP GUN
NETFLIX CANADA A.P. BIO (Season 1-2) AUDIBLE BEETLEJUICE THE DEBT DISTURBIA DYNASTY WARRIORS EYES WIDE SHUT FIVE FEET APART GENERATION 56K I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS THE IMPOSSIBLE JANE EYRE JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 3 – PARABELLUM LARRY CROWNE LEGO: CITY ADVENTURES (Season 1) MAX & RUBY (Season 4) MONEYBALL MORNING GLORY MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM HATHAWAY NICKY, RICKY, DICKY & DAWN (Season 2) OUTBREAK POKEMON JOURNEYS: THE SERIES (Parts 1-4) SAILOR MOON CRYSTAL (Season 1-3) SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS (Season 7) SPY KIDS SPY KIDS 2: THE ISLAND OF LOST DREAMS SPY KIDS 3: GAME OVER SPY KIDS: ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TOM AND JERRY: THE MOVIE UP IN THE AIR WAR OF THE WORLDS WILD ROSE YOUNG ROYALS
MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Mariners vs. Jays (TSN4) 9:40pm: Giants vs. Diamondbacks
THE SUMMER HOUSE PARTY (Cottage Life) 5:30pm: The virtual music festival is featuring a diverse, all-Canadian lineup; the interactive three-hour festival is bringing together Canadian musicians, celebrities, contests, giveaways and more, celebrating everything Canadians love.
WIMBLEDON TENNIS (TSN/TSN5) 7:30pm: Primetime
CANADA DAY SPECIAL (CBC) 8:00pm: Traveling virtually across the country for an evening that highlights the excellence of Canada's artists and artisans with a spotlight on those who light up lives with culture and beauty.
RUPAUL’S ALL STARS DRAG RACE (Crave 2) 8:00pm: All Stars compete for $100,000 and a chance to be inducted into RuPaul's Drag Race Hall of Fame. NBA BASKETBALL (SN/SN1) 8:30pm: Hawks vs. Bucks - Game #5
THE GOOD FIGHT (W Network) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE):  A flashback to 2020 reveals how the team at Reddick, Boseman & Lockhart experienced the year's major events.
THE BUTCHER BAKER: MIND OF A MONSTER (Investigation Discovery) 9:00pm/10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): In the 1980s, a mild-mannered family man ran a bakery in Anchorage; unknown to those who knew him, he also hunted and murdered dozens of women; see inside the warped mind of Robert Hanse.
MLS SOCCER (TSN3) 9:30pm: Austin vs. Portland
FIRE MASTERS (Food Network Canada) 11:00pm: The BBQs are fired up and so are the chefs in the Wildfire round; a game of fins or tentacles in the Crossfire round; in the Feast of Fire, the chefs take on French cuisine for the win.
CANADIAN REFLECTIONS (CBC) 11:30pm: Nadia's Songs/Shadow Nettes
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dust1feather · 7 years ago
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This is basically my declaration of love for Sterek, the best ever OTP, and for the amazingly talented Sterek fandom which has given me so much joy and happiness throughout the years. Here's hoping the years post-canon will be even better and brighter. #eternalsterek
Big thanks to @halekingsourwolf for the beta! (Also on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12178566 )
For Sterek
You meet for the first time on private property – 147 pounds of pale skin, fragile bones and sarcasm, and a majestic wolf with bunny teeth in a too big leather jacket.
Derek Hale: you're the king on Stiles' chessboard, his anchor, the prettiest alpha with the flower crown and Stiles your flower queen. You're the alpha of Stiles' heart.
Stiles Stilinski: you're Derek's anchor, his second in command, the emissary in training, the most loyal member of his pack. You're Derek's mate.
Mieczysław and cousin Miguel. You meet each other in a thousand different ways, in a thousand lifetimes. You impress each other with your Polish roots and fluent Spanish skills. Together you suffer through endless family dinners and visits to Grandma's only to be interrogated about your intentions. You'll have your informal occasions, too: relaxed get togethers and movie nights and bbqs in the backyard, letting the pack and your respective families mingle. You're no strangers to loss but the tragedies of the past make you appreciate your self-made families all the more.
Perhaps you're orphans and make your own families. Or you meet as kids and become instantly inseparable. Or you meet in school but have a hard time fighting through your different social cliques to reach out and make your special brand of jock and nerd work, connecting through mutual love for pop culture or music or literature. University fraternities may try but they can't keep you apart forever.
Sometimes you meet later in life, when you already have kids, but all that friendly neighbourhood DILF will charm your pants off. Often enough you get to have your kids together, carry your own pups and join your beautiful everything (Herald being the infamous exception, of course).
You communicate via notebooks full of scribbles in sparkly pens, you text and sext and skype and type and call using few words or none. The anonymous postcards are instantly recognizable and always welcome. And when you're not using words, you know to interpret each other's eyebrows and the eyerolls. Your love translates without sound or sight, with a simple sign or touch.
You're studying for your exams, learning anatomy bone by bone while lying in bed. You connect the multitude of moles, admire all those brilliant tattoos covering each other's bodies, magical and ordinary alike. You make having gray hairs okay because getting them means growing old together.
But first you're still young and you meet in the forest, lay on a rock and share a smoke. It's a club –  it's always a club – dark, loud and full of people invading your space. You leave the wolfsbane laced drink and craft beer behind and move to the dancefloor where your sweaty bodies gyrate together, following the beat of the music while you learn each others' curves and angles by heart. Later you're in no hurry, you're vegging indoors, tangled on the sheets, kissing and watching the smoke twist and curl up, up, and up in lazy patterns. Taking turns shotgunning your spirits and dreams from lips to lips. You lose your virginities together... maybe you lose it to save your life, to avoid becoming the next sacrifice, but it always, always means something. Because you're soulmates, your innermost thoughts and desires appearing on your skin, helping you to find your missing piece, connecting you two old souls time and again.
Then the wildest dreams of your high school band come true and you love and play and break up and make up while touring and conquering whole continents. You give and take dance lessons, to seduce and be seduced; you clash your classic and street style backgrounds, a strict follower of rules and the other forever bending them, creating something altogether new just for the two of you. You paint each other like one of the French girls; you do portraits, make sculpture and pottery and nude drawings, sometimes in secret and sometimes in plain sight. You participate in the theater club, and the whole audience will get to witness your first kiss.
You travel the world with your magical circus; you are firemen, enjoying their pies. You meet as police officers and delinquents, as actual superheroes or vigilantes. You're PIs or FBIs. You're cowboys on a ranch, vagabonds, florists and tattooists, doctors and patients, bakers, chefs, sportsmen, football players representing rival teams. You're hot mechanics getting down and dirty under the hoods and jeeps. You're thieves, magicians, horse trainers, students and teachers and professors. You own a bookshop, magic shop; you work in a library, you're a TA. You drive a tow truck and you have a thing for your dispatcher who is calculating the shortest distance from you to him. You're a rentboy surviving on a stranger's kindness; you're a rich sugardaddy who starts with all the material goodness and ends up giving his heart and soul. It's omegaverse and neither of you believes in the society's unyielding hierarchy, yet there you both are, reluctantly taking part in the annual heat run.
The UST between you two is legendary and it burns hotter than a thousand suns. And when you finally snap, you do it against the wall, in and on the Camaro, in every single room and on every available piece of furniture to christen your new apartment. You do it on a motorcycle in space despite the raving zombies all around. You do it in captivity, not minding Derek's beta form in the least. You do it in secluded cabins in the woods, surrounded by snow, far from the rest of the civilization. Knotting is your thing. And despite what anyone might think, your BDSM and private club performances and role plays are fifty shades of okay.
And when it comes to porn, you're naturals. Made for recording videos online, letting the camera love your angles. It really is all about Neckz'n Throats. And in a real studio, you're famous stars colliding but doing it like professionals all the same. You have a good time, many many times, several times in a row, in several different positions, and yet it's the undeniable power of human love which penetrates you the deepest.
Everyone else sees what you have before you do. The witches teach you a lesson. You have to narrate your own life or you can only talk by singing or you are forced to speak your mind or you can only speak the truth or hear each other's thoughts or you are physically bound together until you learn better. And even if magically stolen away, your love will grow back organically, like the plants in the strong earth of the garden because there is no stopping such a force of nature.
You're involved in politics: the first son and his long suffering but lifesaving bodyguard. You're celebrities, you're famous models and authors, actors and larger than life movie stars returning home and given another chance at making things right. You're bloggers and vidders. You're food critics. You own restaurants and bars and work in diners and cafes and make coffees as black as your soul with a lot of sugar and extra cream.
You're royalty throughout the ages. In modern day, you hide from paparazzi and try to reign in your desire in the face of social expectations and pressure from the media. In ancient times, you struggle with archaic laws and wars, fighting for your countries and sending your most trusted knight or assassin to turn the course of war for you, to win the war for you and it's the biggest sacrifice every time. Or you're heirs or less important sons needed to seal the alliance of your kingdoms, to be wed to maintain the peace and strengthen the union of your countries. You've only ever seen a portrait of your intended, a horrible troll of a creature, and you can't believe your eyes when your fiancé turns out to be love at first sight. Or it's regency and you hesitate with even the slightest touch; you barely dare to dream of holding hands and yet a single look across the room makes everyone else disappear, leaving just the two of you with your unparallelled chemistry.
Stiles, you're Squirrelinski, a fennec fox, you are the fox to Derek's wolf. When you're given the bite, you become the most natural beta ever, challenging Derek's alpha at every turn but matching him step by step. Derek, your seedwolf makes the most adorable minifriend Stiles has ever had. And then there are sheepgoats and bunnywolves, androids being built and mermen coming ashore. There are demon creatures summoned and adopted. There's more than enough to handle in one set of you but sometimes it's either the Stilinski twins or a Derek's doppelganger and the only available option is to groupsex it away.
You're possessed by demons and chased by hunters. Even death can't keep you apart. You make a perfect werewolf-vampire couple or haunt each other as ghosts, or go to purgatory and back to fix it, to prove everyone you're not done yet and that you never will be. You're driven together by a curse, magic or fairies make you do it. It's fate or chance or accident. But that's only the beginning. It's what happens after, when you learn from each other, show respect and understanding, trust each other, and inevitably and irrevocably fall in love. Every single time.
And even when the whole world is on fire, you serve through the World Wars to see each other again. It's the apocalypse and the zombies are roaming the earth, they have spread all over the galaxy and you're fighting for your survival, still not letting each other go. Werewolves are known, there's slavery, you're kidnapped and held in captivity. You join forces, start a revolution and fight against the oppressors. You are each other's lifeline, you pull each other through it all and end up saving your city, your nation, your world, the universe while re-discovering your humanity with your love. And when you return to civilian life the war has left its mark on you, as the veteran with PTSD, you have your scars and battle wounds but sometimes the invisible scars can only be seen without sight and you manage to mend them together.
Your love transcends time. You travel back and forth through different timelines, you cross multiple universes just to be together. You chase after hurricanes and want to start all over. You take a gap year, you go on a roadtrip to see the world but the further you drive, the closer the two of you get and all that breathtaking scenery pales in comparison with your self-discoveries and budding love.  
So, just so you know, Derek, Stiles is not afraid of you and he hasn't been for a long, long time. There's no need for ripping any throats out with teeth. Though it's still Stiles' house and Stiles' rules, buddy, whenever he's harbouring your fugitive ass. And Stiles, if one of these days you get lucky, Derek will show you that big ol' fist and you can be sure it's not the only big thing the big bad wolf has in store for you. But, most importantly, you trust each other now and you still need each other to survive, still keep each other alive and won't ever let go.
You're drift compatible, you fit together in every possible universe with every version of yourselves. You're Diego and Sid, the abominable snowman and sourwolf, you're big bad wolf and not so little red with the trusted baseball bat or the lacrosse stick. You two make a pretty good pair.
You belong to fandom. You belong to no one. You belong to each other.
Stiles and Derek. Derek and Stiles. Your love is eternal.
Canon is closed. You're finally free.
Long live Sterek.  
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sciencespies · 4 years ago
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In Times of Conflict, How Can We Support the People Who Keep Culture Alive?
https://sciencespies.com/history/in-times-of-conflict-how-can-we-support-the-people-who-keep-culture-alive/
In Times of Conflict, How Can We Support the People Who Keep Culture Alive?
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The fate of Armenian cultural heritage sites in Nagorno-Karabakh is unknown. A recent Smithsonian magazine article highlighted why scholars and cultural institutions are calling to protect Armenian heritage in the landlocked mountainous region in the South Caucasus.
The report succinctly described the situation leading into the current conflict.
Legally recognized by the international community as part of Azerbaijan, Nagorno-Karabakh has been controlled by an ethnic Armenian majority since 1994, when the clashing nations agreed to a ceasefire. Following the war’s conclusion, the region’s Armenian residents established a “separatist, self-declared [but unrecognized] republic … backed by the Armenian government,” per BBC News. The countries have been locked in a tense stalemate punctuated by occasional violence, such as a period of fighting in early April 2016, according to the Council on Foreign Relations.
While a Russian brokered peace deal remains precarious, the status of Armenian heritage sites on lands that have been ceded to Azerbaijan is a growing concern. Not only have those from Azerbaijan, known as Azeris, launched intentional attacks on heritage sites, like the Holy Savior Ghazanchetsots Cathedral, they have also intensified a campaign to assert alternative historical narratives for the heritage in the region. Heritage once again finds itself at the crosshairs of conflict.
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Targeting heritage sites (above: Ghazanchetsots Cathedral took missile fire in October 2020) is a powerful tool in the arsenal of modern warfare.
(ԶԻՆՈՒԺ MEDIA, Wikimedia Commons )
“Azeri aggression against the rich and irreplaceable cultural heritage of its indigenous Armenian people has only just begun,” wrote Christina Maranci, professor of Armenian art and architecture at Tufts University.
These sites, despite being historic locales, are integrally tied into present realities. They are spaces where people create and affirm their identities, meet with friends and family, or even make their livings, whether acting as priests at a small medieval church or setting up locally run B&Bs to cater to tourists. Many heritage sites are not inert buildings that are purely vessels of history but are also living and breathing entities that are very much situated in the daily lives of those that live around them.
Take for example the Associated Press’ haunting photos of the situation, including a couple getting married in Ghazanchetsots Cathedral surrounded by rubble and debris. Just days before the 19th-century cathedral had been relentlessly shelled by Azeri military forces. Targeting heritage sites, whether through physical destruction or historical revisionism, is a powerful tool in the arsenal of modern warfare. Examples of heritage in conflict abound, ranging from ISIS’s staged demolition of Palmyra in Syria to the destruction of the Old Bridge of Mostar (Stari Most) during ethnic conflict in Bosnia and Herzegovina in the 1990s.
Following the conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh, media outlets, cultural institutes, dignitaries and scholars, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the New York Times, Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov and UNESCO general director Audrey Azoulay released statements denouncing the destruction of sites and calling for documentation, monitoring and preservation of the region’s cultural heritage. While these appeals for safeguarding and monitoring heritage are necessary, they often view cultural heritage as immobile, tangible spaces without taking into account the living, intangible qualities of heritage—music, dance, song, cooking, craft and storytelling, to name a few.
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Many heritage sites are not inert buildings that are purely vessels of history (above: Dadivank, the 9th to 13th century Armenian monastery) but are also living and breathing entities that are very much situated in the daily lives of those that live around them.
(Photo by Safi-iren, Wikimedia Commons )
Calls to action, which denounce the physical destruction of sites, should also spotlight the threat heritage decimation has on people and their cultural livelihoods. The trope of a universal, common heritage that must be saved for future generations is heralded and helps to stir international attention and assistance, but we must equally take into consideration a need to support the people who have a hand in keeping their culture alive and thriving. In addition to contributing humanitarian aid, we should be supporting and creating spaces that allow cultural ingenuity and heritage expression to flourish. While not a perfect solution, this action would give agency back to those who have experienced attacks on their history, heritage and identity.
In times of struggle, supporting a peoples’ collective creative output helps to generate hope and resiliency. In the summer of 2018, the Smithsonian Folklife Festival showcased two international regions in the programs—“Catalonia: Tradition and Creativity from the Mediterranean” and “Armenia: Creating Home” on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. While the Festivals are planned and organized years in advance, that summer happened to mark a period of political turmoil and unrest for both Catalonia and Armenia.
In October 2017, the semi-autonomous region of Catalonia had voted for independence, a move declared illegal by Spain’s Constitutional Court, which led to the Spanish government dissolving the Catalonian parliament and ordering immediate regional elections. Just weeks before the Folklife Festival, Catalan nationalists in June regained control of the region, ending Madrid’s direct rule.
As tensions flared in Catalonia, Armenians were experiencing similar social unrest, with the April-May 2018 Velvet Revolution, where civilian protesters won against the deep-rooted corruption and oligarchical nepotism that had infiltrated Armenia’s post-Soviet government. Yet in the midst of all this political upheaval, more than 100 participants flew from Armenia and several hundred from Catalonia to share their culture, heritage, and hopes for the future with the hundreds of thousands of tourists who descended upon the National Mall to enjoy the Folklife Festival activities.
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Stonemason Ruben Ghazarayan, one of the thousands of Armenians serving on the frontlines, was a participant at the 2018 Folklife Festival.
(Gregory Gottlieb)
The synergy between the two groups and their love for their craft and heritage was palpable. As a presenter at “Armenia: Creating Home” and an ethnographer conducting field research, I spent a great deal of time with the participants from both Armenia and Catalonia and witnessed a heartfelt enthusiasm as they shared their songs, stories, crafts and food with each other and with visitors. The Armenian participants were familiar with the Catalonian struggle, both through their recent Velvet Revolution, but also in their ongoing plight with Azerbaijan over Nagorno-Karabakh.
There was a language barrier between Armenians and Catalonians, but they found unique ways to communicate. Joint programming often fostered this communication, like when Catalan baker Angel Zamora and Syrian Armenian chef Andranig Kilislyan cooked together on the Hatstatoun (Armenian for “bread house”) stage to prepare coca de recapate and lahmajun, Catalonian and Armenian snacks centered around a favored ingredient: bread. But there were also moments of impromptu heritage connections, like how Catalonian and Armenian presenters would burst into song and dance in the hotel after Festival work hours, often playing improvisational music that seamlessly and surprisingly wove together the heritage sounds of both regions.
On the last evening of the Festival, after the crowds had all gone home, several Armenian participants and food vendors beckoned their Catalonian counterparts over to their performance tents and stages set up the Festival grounds. Armenian BBQ was passed around, wine flowed and the Armenian musicians played traditional dance music.
There, in the shadow of the Washington Monument, we danced in a shared expression of communal euphoria in a closing-night celebration of the two-week summer Festival. It was a demonstration on a large scale of how heritage practices—singing, dancing, and the sharing of food brings people together. One Armenian participant noted of her new Catalonian friendships, “I never thought I would find a group louder and more boisterous than Armenians, but I think we’ve met our match!”
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Participants from both Armenia and Catalonia (above: Catalonians demonstrate their tradition of human tower building) witnessed a heartfelt enthusiasm as they shared their songs, stories, crafts and food with each other and with visitors.
(Pruitt Allen)
While the evening was celebratory, it also reified a deeper bond: a connection both groups felt through their shared socio-political struggles. As one Armenian American reflected about Catalonia’s presence at the Festival and the simultaneous conflicts happening in both regions, she recalled, “I viscerally understood, to be this country [Catalonia] surrounded by adversaries and in danger and to fight for freedom is something we [Armenians] knew very well.”
Unfortunately for Armenians, that fight has now escalated into a war. On September 27 this year, Azerbaijan, backed by the Turkish government, launched an offensive on Nagorno-Karabakh as a means to take over the regain. Thousands of Armenian soldiers were called to the front lines to protect and defend Nagorno-Karabakh.
Ruben Ghazarayan, a participant at the 2018 Folklife Festival, was one of the thousands of Armenians that served on the frontlines. Ghazarayan along with his brother Karen, are self-taught stonemasons from Yeghegnadzor and constitute some of the only artisans who continue to practice khachkar (cross-stone) making in Armenia. I remember their joy and enthusiasm at the Festival as they interacted with visitors who asked countless questions about their craft, even letting some curious onlookers take a hand at carving. Visitors were fascinated with the Ghazarayans’ limestone khachkars and their masterpieces sold out in the Festival Marketplace; the first time their work was ever offered for sale outside of Armenia.
They left excited for the growing possibilities and admiration for their craftsmanship, and when I visited them a year ago in Armenia they were overjoyed to show me their newly renovated workshop at the base of the Areni-1 archaeological cave complex; a harmonious example of how heritage sites, cultural production and living go hand-in-hand.
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Historic locales (above: the 19th-century Ghazanchetsots Cathedral before it was attacked in October 2020) are integrally tied into present realities. They are spaces where people create and affirm their identities, meet with friends and family, or even make their livings,
(Vladimer Shioshvili, Wikimedia Commons)
This past October, as Ruben Ghazarayan fought on the frontlines of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, his brother Karen turned to making and selling their khachkars to Armenian diaspora abroad to support their families during the conflict. Despite the uncertainness of war, Karen took to his hammer and chisel to produce cultural heritage as a means of sustenance and resilience because as he says: “In these hard times, khachkars are our places of worship (church).”
Karen continues to work, despite not having his brother by his side, because as he says: “Now more than ever it is important to talk about Armenian arts and Armenian culture. Our khachkars are a small wish and hope for our diaspora, our friends, and our relatives abroad.” While conflict still broils in the region and the fate of Armenian heritage sites in Nagorno-Karabakh remains in a precarious state, Armenians continue to produce and sustain cultural practices despite direct attempts to erase their heritage.
#History
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bbqtek · 3 years ago
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grillpartshub-blog · 4 years ago
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armeniaitn · 4 years ago
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I wanted to make sure I represent Armenian tolma in the best way possible: Louisa Sharamatyan ...
New Post has been published on https://armenia.in-the.news/culture/i-wanted-to-make-sure-i-represent-armenian-tolma-in-the-best-way-possible-louisa-sharamatyan-42297-22-07-2020/
I wanted to make sure I represent Armenian tolma in the best way possible: Louisa Sharamatyan ...
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Armenian-American TV personality Louisa Sharamatyan is now participating in Food Network’s famous The Worst Cooks in America TV show. Louisa, who is also known for her participation in the Worst Bakers in America, confesses that the most responsible episode for her was cooking Armenian tolma, because she knows how important this traditional food is for Armenian culture. In her interview with NEWS.am STYLE the Food Network star also talks on her Armenian roots, favorite dishes and expectations from the show.
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Louisa, how did you decide to take part in The Worst Cooks in America? Did you really want to improve your cooking skills, or just wanted to be a part of the famous TV show?
I was previously on Worst Bakers in America last year, so the network was already familiar with my “skills” in the kitchen. When the opportunity came up for Worst Cooks in America, I was very excited. For me it was more about improving my skills in the kitchen and making my mom proud. I wanted to make a strong comeback and prove, that I can succeed in the kitchen. I am so grateful for the opportunities the Food Network has given me. They truly embraced and welcomed my love for the Armenian food and culture. Strong comeback after Worst Bakers in America and this was my chance.
How often were you spending your time on cooking before participating in the show, and has something changed now?
Before the show I would shadow my mom in the kitchen but not fully prepare meals by myself. I think my mom is so used to cooking everything for me. That is very common if you live in an Armenian household (laughs). A lot has changed now, this show has opened up a new world of cooking for me. I cook at least once a week now. I am much more confident in the kitchen. Now, I feel so satisfied and responsible after I make dinner from start to finish. I am currently practicing the art of chopping an onion. I really want to make Chef Alex Guarnaschelli proud. She inspires me so much!
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As you have mentioned, you’ve also taken part in Worst Bakers in America. What can you say about your experience?
Yes, you are correct. Last year, I had the honor of joining the cast of Worst Bakers in America, Season 2. It was a pleasure to meet and work with world-renowned bakers like Chef Lorraine Pascale and Chef Jason Smith. The experience was incredible and eye-opening. I was drastically out of my comfort zone. Baking is hard and leaves no room for mistakes. If you miss one step and rush, you have to start all over again. I was eliminated very early on. I mixed in baking soda instead of baking powder and my cake was ruined. I enjoy cooking much more than baking. Keeping track of measurements for someone like me, who doesn’t bake is difficult. Also, some deserts require stuffing and glazing which is a whole different level of difficulty including food thermometers. That’s not to say that I’ll just give up on baking. I sometimes experiment in the kitchen and teach myself while watching youtube videos. I’ve also purchased a variety of cookbooks…two of them are by my mentor, Chef Alex Guarnaschelli… Old-School Comfort Food and The Home Cook. She is also releasing a new cookbook in October called, ”Cook with me: 150 Recipes For The Home Cook”.
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Returning to The Worst Cooks in America, let’s remember the first episode of the show, when you made Armenian dolma. Was it your first time cooking it?
At home, I usually film my mom rolling the grape leaves. My followers love to see what my mom is making in the kitchen. I love to document how she cooks and bakes. It was definitely my first time making tolma alone with no assistance from anyone. I was very nervous. As you know, being Armenian yourself, food plays a big part in our cultural and heritage. I wanted to make sure I represent Armenian tolma in the best way possible. I was proud about the presentation of the tolma, but not the taste. I ran out of time and the stuffing was undercooked. After the show, my tolma cooking skills have gotten so much better. I enjoy all the steps of preparation now. I taste my food as I go, and I am much more relaxed in the kitchen. I also experiment a lot with stuffed bell peppers and tomatoes.
What’s your favorite Armenian dish, besides tolma, which you would like to cook for the TV viewers?
I have so many favorites. There are several dishes I would love the non-Armenian viewers to experience. I would love to make traditional Armenian barbeque (khorovats) with shish kabobs and traditional skewers on the grill. It would be nice for the viewers to see how we marinate before grilling. Also, we have so much range when it comes to be Armenian BBQ… lamb, pork, beef, chicken, veal, etc. That would be a wonderful experience. Throughout history, Armenian cuisine has fallen under the Middle Eastern cuisine umbrella. We share similar dishes with the Persians, Arabs, and Greeks counterparts. My family and I love lahmajun, hummus, tabbouleh Cheekfuta as well.
What’s the most important thing/skill, you’ve learnt during this show?
 I learned so many things, it’s hard to just say one. Chef Alex always says “Clean as you go”, and that was difficult to do at first. I then realized how important it is to be clean and organized while cooking and not just after when you actually clean and throw away the trash. She also told me not to overthink so much while cooking and to just do it and some dishes are meant to look messy and full of life. Seasoning, Seasoning, Seasoning! Never underestimate the power of salt. I also learned the power of “Mise en place” which is basically preparing and gathering all the ingredients, utensils needed for your dish.
Louisa, what cooking show will be the next? Do you think one day to appear at Master Chef?
Wow, it would be an honor to appear on Master Chef. For now, I am working on perfecting my cooking skills. I am excited to see what the future holds.
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How do you estimate your chances of winning the competition?
To be honest, each episode that I was not eliminated was very surprising for me. I had NO idea I had it in me to cook and focus like that. You have to wait and see….
Louisa. I would like also to speak about your Armenian roots…
I was born here in America, specifically in Los Angeles. I live in Glendale, where there is a very large Armenian community. I have been raised with traditional Armenian values and my parents tried to preserve the Armenian culture as much as they can. My parents made sure I know how to read and write in Armenian. My parents are proud owners of a child daycare called “Hayastan Daycare” and my whole life I have been surrounded by the love for Armenian culture. They also used to run an Armenian Saturday day school, which I would attend. I love Armenian literature and cinema. My grandmother and I read literature by Paruyr Sevak, Silva Kaputikian, William Saroyan, Hovhannes Shiraz, and more. It’s important for me not to forget how to read and write in Armenian. We are such a talented and creative race.
Do you come to Armenia frequently?
Unfortunately, I do not, The last time I visited Armenian was in 2005. I am planning on visiting very soon.
Syune Arakelyan
Photos by Louisa Sharamatyan’s personal archive 
Follow NEWS.am STYLE on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram
Read original article here.
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wiremagazine · 5 years ago
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SOBEWFF: EVENTS
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By Rafa Carvajal & Michael Bustamante | Photos by Seth Browarnik. worldredeye.com
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SOBEWFF 2020 will include more than 100 events taking place in Miami-Dade, Broward and Palm Beach counties.
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FESTIVAL FAVORITES:
Bacardi's Beach Carnival hosted by Andrew Zimmern
Beachside BBQ hosted by Guy Fieri
Chicken Coupe hosted by Tyler Florence
Goya Foods' Grand Tasting Village featuring Grand Tasting Tents & Publix Culinary Demonstrations
Goya Foods' Swine & Wine hosted by Enrique Santos & Fernando Desa
Heineken Burger Bash hosted by Rachael Ray
Intimate dinner experiences hosted by some of the country's most celebrated, critically-acclaimed chefs
Italian Bites on the Beach hosted by Giada De Laurentiis & Dario Cecchini
Southern Kitchen Brunch hosted by Trisha Yearwood
Tacos After Dark hosted by Danny Trejo
Tribute Dinner with Master of Ceremonies Andrew Zimmern – part of The New York Times Cooking Dinner Series
Oyster Bash hosted by Josh Capon
Wine Spectator's Best of the Best
Wine Spectator Wine Seminars
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BRAND NEW EVENTS:
Chef Mash-up hosted by The Naughty Fork
Gospel & Falafel hosted by Zak the Baker
Nu Deco Ensemble Concert featuring Special Performance by Rev Run & Late-Night Bites by Politan Row Miami
Sliced: A Genuine Pizza Party hosted by Michael Schwartz
Sips & Dips hosted by Adam Richman
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CRAVE GREATER FORT LAUDERDALE SERIES:
Brunch hosted by Katie Lee & Geoffrey Zakarian
Dinner hosted by Cat Cora & Paula DaSilva
Dinner hosted by Joel Ehrlich
Dinner hosted by Marc Forgione & Jorlian Rivera
Dinner hosted by Michael Lomonaco & Johan Svensson
Drag Brunch hosted by Carson Kressley
Foodie Movie Night in the Park
Sandwich Showdown hosted by Jeff Mauro
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This was originally published in Wire Magazine Issue 3.2020
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prettyediblestylist · 5 years ago
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Tandoor Flatbread
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Very excited to be cooking up a wonderful Tandoor extravaganza for all the lovely (and hungry) crowd at Latitude festival this year. Both myself and master of EVERYTHING BARBECUE and live-fire cooking, plus official ‘wood whisperer’ Mark Parr aka Lord Logs (London Log Company) will be creating a gorgeous feast whilst providing lots of top tips & fuss-free techniques to arm you with recreating delicious, fuss-free BBQ food at home. Without wanting to give too much of the action away, some of the delights will include spicy, more-ish chargrilled buttermilk Tandoor-spiced chicken kebabs and Pepper, Red onion and Baby Courgette Shashlik, along with barbecued avocado, Tandoor-spiced squash and cauliflower steaks...all of which will be served in our winning Tandoor flatbread along with freshly-grated coconut chutney and a salad show-stopper dressed with apple blossom flowers and our all-time favourite YUMMY buttermilk & peppery mustard sauce 👌🏼 The festival runs for the whole weekend from the 18th - 21st July & every year proves to be a fun-filled, family-friendly occasion that’s always packed full of joy. It would be wonderful to see (and feed!) as many of you food lovers out there that can make it…the beautiful surroundings of Henham park in the Suffolk countryside are worth the visit for alone. I’ve been so busy getting everything ready for the weekend that not all of the recipes are posted here yet, but this will be on the blog as soon as possible I promise. Looking forward to seeing many old and new faces along the way. Our demo will be kicking off on Saturday at 5p.m outside the food theatre! :) 
Tandoor Flatbread You can buy some great ready-made versions now, but nothing quite beats the pleasure of making it yourself at home. Here’s the recipe for all you budding bakers (which makes it sound quite tricky, but it really isn’t!) I love to add chopped fresh coriander to the dough when kneading, plus a sprinkling of cumin powder for extra pep. Olive oil is essential for keeping the bread lovely and soft once cool, but if you like things a little more indulgent add 25g diced cold butter to the flour and water in the electric mixer (and remove 25ml vegetable oil). For a garlic butter version, take 50g cubed butter and place in a microwave safe bowl along with 2 cloves of freshly crushed garlic. Microwave together just until the butter is completely melted in 20 second bursts. Use to brush onto the hot, fresh flatbread before serving. 
For the starter: x4 500g strong flour 500ml water
1. This needs to be done in batches. In an electric mixer with the whisk attachment, mix together the flour and water on medium speed till the mix is stringy and leaves a trail.  Empty into a large container that can hold 10kg. Repeat this process three more times. 2. Place the lid on this mix (or cover with a damp tea towel) and leave in a warm place for 12-16 hours. 3. By this point it should have risen and the dough should be bubbly. Place in the fridge - or put outside in the winter months (if you only need for occasional use) For the dough
1kg starter  500g atta (or any wholemeal wheat flour) 50g sugar 25g salt 200ml water
1. Mix all ingredients with the hook attachment until you have a smooth dough that comes away from the sides of the bowl. 2. Store in a large container or bowl as the dough will rise and you want to avoid it spilling over. Cover with a damp cloth and leave somewhere warm for 3/4 hours (or as long as it needs till it rises) 3. Once risen, knock the dough back and return to the container, then refrigerate if you are using the next day or start to portion out 100g balls into a large tray, dipping the dough balls in sesame (and I also like to dip into nigella seeds) before arranging spaced apart on the tray. 4. Prove for a couple hours and either use straight away or refrigerate for the next day.  -2.5 teaspoons - 240ml warm milk 60g plain yoghurt beaten with one egg 60ml veg oil 360-420g all purpose flour (start with 360 and add of need to get to desired consistency) 2 tsp sea salt 1 tsp baking powder 1. Dissolve the yeast In warm water with a tablespoon or two of the flour. Mix into a paste and leave for 15 minutes in a warm place. 2. Add your yoghurt mixture. Mix flour, salt and baking powder for a minute or two until mixed well, then add the liquid mix in parts and knead for 5 minutes. 3. Leave to rest for 2 minutes, then knead again for another 2-4 minutes whilst mixing in the oil. I would like it wetter so I wouldn’t add any more flour as it firms up after the first prove. 4. When you have your desired consistency, form a ball and keep in a well oiled bowl with a damp cloth over the top. Leave in a warm place for 2 hours. 5. Knock it back and reform the ball. Return to your oiled bowl or container and keep in the fridge for the next day. Oil the top and cover loosely with cling film or damp cloth. 6. Form into desired size into a tray, oil the top and line the tray with clingfilm or a clean bin bag. 7. Preheat oven to 240C/fan 220C/gas 9 with a pizza stone (baking stone) until stone is hot. (Using a baking/pizza stone will help to give the flatbread a similar intense heat as a clay tandoor. You can also use the base of a large ceramic dish inverted) 8. Scrape out your balls individually and apply sesame/nigella seeds if you like. Roll using a little flour if needed and stud with a fork to prevent it from rising too much (try not to use too much flour so it doesn’t burn when you are cooking them) Lay on top of preheated baking stones. Bake until puffed and golden on top which should be about 2–3 minutes. Brush with garlic butter and top with fresh coriander, if desired. Repeat as desired with more flatbread. 
Recipe: Kian Samyani (Head chef at Berenjaks and Brigadiers, London) 
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Chicken Kebabs with Tandoor Spice I love what I like to call the ‘double skewer method’ which makes the skewers much easier to thread and handle when cooking on the barbecue. You can alternatively use the standard method if you prefer by cutting the chicken into cubes, then threading the meat onto single skewers the traditionally way. 
Serves 4-6 Cook 25 mins (plus marinating) You will need: about 12 wooden (soaked) or metal skewers 3cm piece of ginger 2 cloves of garlic 150g natural yoghurt (or you can use 150ml buttermilk) 2 tbsp olive oil 60 ml tomato passata ½ tsp garam masala ½ tsp chilli powder ½ teaspoon smoked paprika ½ teaspoon turmeric 10-12 skinless, boneless free-range chicken thighs (or mix with chicken breast)
1. Peel and finely grate the ginger, peel and finely chop the garlic, then place in a large bowl with the yoghurt (or buttermilk), oil, passata and spices. Stir well. 2. Slice the chicken thighs (and breast if using) in half , coat well in the marinade, then season with sea salt and black pepper. Cover with clingfilm and refrigerate for 2 to 3 hours. 3.  If using the double skewer method, thread each thigh or breast onto two skewers horizontally about 6cm apart, then barbecue or grill for 25-30 minutes, or until golden and evenly cooked, turning occasionally. Serve with lots of fresh coriander and mint and my Spinach and Peashoot salad with edible flowers and buttermilk/mustard dressing plus a good drizzle of natural yoghurt. Or the gorgeous fresh coconut chutney we showed you at Latitude. (Recipe coming soon!) 
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