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rainconfettis · 7 years ago

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Obligatory Coffee Shop AU (Sanders Sides)

As promised, maybe a little later than planned, my obligatory coffee shop au that will probably be shortened to OCSAU

Part 2

Anyways tag list: @virgilswritings and @creative-robot you sweet sweet beans

Roman was tired of monotonous days. He was tired of living the same day-to-day life that he always did. He wanted action! He wanted excitement! He wanted passion. No one could deny him these basic rights. He was going to find his next thrill, and he knew his heart would lead him right to it.

He huffed out a breath, and when the bell rang, pushed his elbows off the counter. He straightened (heh) his uniform and called out, “Welcome to Royal’s Coffee and Treats.”, then turned to shoot a dazzling smile at the customer. This customer wasn't even looking at him. Which was for the best, because Roman almost choked.

In a pristine black button-up, a man strode toward the counter, glaring at his phone through his thick-rimmed glasses. Even though he looked irritated, Roman thought he was cute. And his distraction gave the barista the opportunity to admire.

By the time the mystery male was at the counter, Roman had successfully deduced that he was definitely around the same age, and intelligent, if Newton’s Principia Mathematica poking out of his bag was any indication. He finally looked up, locking eyes with Roman for the time it took him to utter the sentence, “Give me 30 seconds.” and succinctly moving them to the menu above Roman’s head. Roman tried to hold in a smile when he noticed the other’s warm brown eyes were a few shades darker than his own and stunning.

“Of course, fire when ready.” Roman winked, even though the other couldn’t see it.

“Please, I don’t have the authority to fire you. Only your boss does.” He responded simply, not even bothering to take his eyes off the menu. Roman wasn’t sure if that was a witty remark or completely serious. Nevertheless, he was willing to try.

“You sure could boss me around, though.” he shot back without missing a beat.

Finally, the stranger’s eyes landed back on the barista’s face, “Again, I’m not sure I’m qualified to.” He spoke with such a flat tone, but Roman’s heart flipped when he detected the slightest of smiles pull at his lips. So he was playing.

Roman gave him a dazzling smile, “Are you ready to order, or are you gonna scan me like that menu?”

This time when he winked, the stranger blushed, and couldn’t help but smile as he said, “Medium caramel latte, iced please.”

“One caramel latte for you. $6.50,” he said, pulling a cup off the stack beside him and waiting for the stranger to get out his exact change, of course, “and I will need your name.”

He looked up from getting the money out of his wallet, clearly confused, “Isn’t that a Starbucks thing?”

Roman whipped his head around quickly, then bent over the counter slightly and in the most fake whisper ever, said “Shhhhhhhh, you must never name that devil company in our authentic coffee house.” he then straightened (heh) up, and laughed, “Nah, we don’t do that, but I’d just like to stop referring to you as the ‘handsome stranger’.”

Again, a small smile, still not wide enough to show teeth, and he held out his hand to give Roman the money, “Logan.”

“Logan, exotic.” They both snorted at that, and Roman took the money from Logan, resisting the urge to do a cliche hands lingering moment, “I’m Roman.”

“Like the empire?”

“Like the empire.”

Roman turned to start the drink, shooting a glance toward the other customers as he did so. A regular was typing on their laptop, not even bothering to throw away the empty cups that are slowly piling up beside them. The other man didn’t seem to be busy with anything, but scrolled through his phone with haste nonetheless.

“So Newton is your fancy? I'm more of a Whitman and Cervantes guy myself.” Roman didn't bother looking back at Logan as he talked. He didn't want to mess this drink up. For this man, he was gonna make the perfect latte.

“Newton is an excellent scientist, yes, but I'm actually more interested in psychology. Pavlov, Skinner, and more modern ones.”

“Not Freud?”

Logan snorted, “Yeah, no. Freud was a garbage person. But the scientists who use his work to improve it? They're the interesting ones with something useful to say.”

Roman nodded, sticking that in his brain to sound smart later, and finished making the coffee. He put the lid on, swirled it for effect, and stuck a straw through, “I would have written my number on it to be cheesy, but it’s iced so it’s hard to do after the coffee is in it, and I didn’t think ahead of time to do so.” He looked up to meet Logan’s eyes, glad to see the other smiling back, “So I guess I’ll just wait for you to ask.”

Logan looked down at his coffee, and took a sip. He swished it around, to make a show of it, and smiled, “I’ll consider it, if it means I get another coffee like this.”

The words made Roman’s heart flutter. Of course, he’d been in a playful flirting match before. Just not like this. Logan was obviously intelligent, and obviously willing to play along, but with the looks and the brains, he was out of Roman’s league. The barista watched the man take his seat at one of the countertops facing him. He pulled out his laptop and shot Roman one more glance before starting to type. Roman had no idea what he was doing, but he could guess schoolwork or personal passion.

After Logan pulled out his laptop, a few more customers entered. He took care of their orders, taking “subtle” glances at Logan along the way, and catching him staring a few times. Once the last in line was cared for, Roman checked the clock and then leaned on the counter, placing his elbows on the surface and his chin on his palms. He cleared his throat to get Logan’s attention, and as soon as the other looked up, he batted his eyelashes, and said, “What are you up to?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop a smile, “I’m writing a critical review of Principia. Ten pages in currently.”

“Ten pages?” Roman pushed off the counter, and rushed into the back and through the door connecting the back room to the customer area, slowing his pace to stride over to Logan, “Ten pages?”

Logan laughed, “You do know that the Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica is over 900 pages long, right?” Roman’s mouth opened, and then closed, so Logan went on, “Ten pages doesn’t even cover the major theories he had. Of course, I don’t need to go into depth about the hypotheses that are incorrect, but it doesn’t hurt to cover them. I’m guessing I can shorten down what I’ve already written after I’m finished writing, then revise and maybe shorten it some more. After that it could be anywhere from twenty to thirty pages long.”

As he was babbling, Roman was distracted. Logan’s eyes lit up when he talked, and his hands started to gesture, compact and calculated even though it was unconscious. Roman thought it was adorable. He really did try to listen, but he was so impressed and overwhelmed by the idea that someone could write a thirty page book report that he realized how thoroughly smitten and screwed he was. This man was too good for him. This man was good.

So they talked until another customer came in, and talked when the customer left. Roman learned he was a double major in mathematics and astronomy-an odd combination-at the college about 15 minutes away. Roman told him that he was a theatre arts major at an online college, and also worked/volunteered (he only sometimes got paid, they’re a small theatre group) at the theatre downtown. Roman also learned that this nerd was a fan of many of Roman’s favorite shows, even though they disagreed on some of the theories and plot points, and that the more he learned about Logan, the more time he wanted to spend with him.

At the end of Roman’s shift, he was convinced to ask Logan out. He had to. So he greeted the person coming in for next shift and packed up his stuff, going as fast as possible to get to Logan. He pushed his way through the door and walked up to him, admiring the way his eyebrows came closer together when he was focused, and his lips pursed ever so slightly. He shook his head, and said, “Hey Logan, my shift is ending, so-”

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Logan looked up from his laptop after saying it, catching Roman’s eye just in time to see the barista’s face turn bright red.

“I-uh-you, yeah!” Roman burst out, and covered his mouth, taking a deep breath and not looking Logan in the eye until he could feel the heat in his cheeks diminish, “Yes, I was actually coming to ask you that.”

Logan grinned, and pulled out a pen, writing on a sticky note. He turned to Roman and handed him the sticky note. In near perfect (of course), blocky numbers, was Logan’s number, and his name. Once again, Roman’s heart fluttered, and he squeaked out a good-bye before promising to text.

He left the shop, grinning, and didn’t stop until he was safely inside his apartment. His roommate, Patton, wanted to know what happened, but Roman couldn’t comprehend the words to explain how incredibly lucky he got, so he just looked down at the number now saved in his phone, and choked out, “Cute boy. Date. Number.” and stumbled to his room as gracefully as he uttered the sentence. That night, he probably wouldn’t sleep, and if he did, he would be dreaming of certain boys and their big dumb books. His heart had lead him to someone thrilling, all right.

So apparently there might be a part two, because i felt there wasnt enough here to really be considered a finished storyline. I suppose I’ll do it if I get some positive feedback

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #holy shit i almost forgot romans name i only wrote it a hundred times during this #obligatory coffee shop au #ocsau

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tymc · 2 years ago

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Download The Golden Ass -- Apuleius

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years ago

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October, the month dedicated to the Most Holy Rosary

October 7 is the feast of the Most Holy Rosary.

THE BATTLE OF LEPANTO - Part 2 by William Thomas Walsh

Conclusion of THE BATTLE OF LEPANTO

About two o'clock in the morning of Sunday, the seventh, there came up a fresh steady wind from the west, across the Ionian Sea, sweeping the stars and the wide bay clear of the wraiths of fog. Don Juan, lying sleepless in the cabin of his Real, saw that he was in the middle of what seemed a huge lake, flooded with moonlight. He gave the word, the great anchors were weighed and the sails unfurled, the whips cracked over the straining backs of the galley slaves, the great ships hove through the choppy waters, as if racing the dawn to the Albanian coast. When the sun came flaming up over the Gulf of Lepanto, Doria's lookout, in the vanguard, sighted a squadron of the enemy about twelve miles away, returning from a scouting trip to Santa Maura. The signal flag agreed upon was on the masthead of the royal frigate, where Doria was on watch.

"We must conquer or die here," said Don Juan, exultantly, and ordered a green banner displayed as a sign for all to get in battle array. The multiple banks of oars on the six great Venetian galeasses plunged into the sea, driving the massive hulks to their positions, two of them a mile in front of each of the three sections of the battle line.

The Venetian Barbarigo, with sixty-four galleys, veered as closely as possible to the Aetolian shore, to prevent an encircling movement by the enemy on the north. Don Juan commanded the center or batalla of sixty-three galleys, with Colonna and Veniero on either side of him, and Requesens in the ship behind him. Doria's squadron of sixty took the right wing, nearest the open sea, the most dangerous post of all. Thirty-five vessels were held in reserve in the rear under the Marques of Santa Cruz, with orders to give help wherever it might be needed. Thus the great fleet advanced into the Gulf of Patras, in a long arc extending over a league-and-a-half sea and gradually stiffening into a straighter line as the enemy came in sight.

The Turks, having a total of 286 galleys (for Hascen Bey had just arrived with 22 extra ones from Tripoli) against 208, had decided to fight, and were clearing their decks for action. Mohammed Siroco with 55 galleys opposed Barbarigo. Ali Pasha and Pertew with 96 faced the batalla of Don Juan. Aluch Ali with 73 took the side nearest the open sea, opposite Gianandrea Doria. There was also a squadron of reserve in the rear. The wind had shifted to the east, bringing on the Turks with bellied sails, while the Christians had to use their oars. Toward noon it almost died away. Four hours passed while both fleets made their preparations for combat.

Doria meanwhile came back in a swift frigate to consult with Don Juan and the others. According to one account he was averse, at the start, to giving battle to an enemy with so large a preponderance of heavy ships. He wanted a council of war, at least. But Don Juan cried, "It is time to fight now, not to talk"; and so it was agreed. Cabrera says Doria not only drew up the final battle order of the fleet, but suggested that the Generalissimo have the espolones cut away from the bows of his galleys. These were sharp spurs, fourteen feet long which could crash through the side of an enemy ship, doing great damage when propelled by the arms of a hundred galley slaves. It was obvious that in fighting at close quarters, hand-to-hand, ship locked to ship, they would be useless. Without them, too, Don Juan could place his bow guns lower, and hit the Turkish hulks nearer the water line. The plan was adopted. One after another down the long line the espolones splashed into the calm sea.

The young Admiral, now in his golden armor, went in a fast frigate from ship to ship, holding up an iron crucifix for all to see. "Hey, valorous soldiers!" he cried. "Here's the chance you wanted. I have done my part. Do you now humble the pride of the enemy and win glory in this holy fight. Live or die, be conquerors; if you die, you go to Heaven." The sight of the gallant young figure and the sound of his fresh voice had an extraordinary effect. A mighty shout answered him from each ship. There passed across the sparkling sea a long broken cheer as the Pope's banner of the League with the image of Christ Crucified catching the glint of the high sun, rose above the Real beside the blue flag of Our Lady of Guadalupe. On the forward mast of his flagship Don Juan had hung a crucifix which alone of all his effects survived the fire in his house at Alcala.

As the Turks advanced in a great half-moon he knelt on the prow and in a loud voice begged the blessing of God on the Christian arms, while priests and monks throughout the fleet held up crucifixes before the kneeling sailors and soldiers. The sun was now directly overhead. The clear water, almost unrippled, flashed back a tremulous replica in vivid colors of a thousand standards, streamers, pennons and gonfalons, the cold brilliant glitter of weapons and armor, the gold and silver of armaments, all wavering kaleidoscopically between the blue sea and the dazzling sky. A hush like that which comes just before the consecration of the Mass fell over the whole Armada. The Turkish side replied with the usual blood-curdling chorus of screams, hoots, jibes and groans, the clashing of cimeters on shields, the blaring of horns and trumpets. The Christians waited in silence.

At that moment the wind, which had thus far favored the Turks, shifted to the west and sped the Christian galleys on to the shock. Ali Pasha, in the Moslem center, opened the battle with a cannon shot. Don Juan answered, with another. As the Turkish oarsmen churned the sea, the six great galeasses of Venice opened fire with their 264 guns. This bombardment was not as devastating as had been expected, but it had the effect of breaking the enemy's line. The Turkish right was racing now to gain the open water between the Venetians and the Aetolian shore. Five ships closed upon the galley of Barbarigo, while the Moorish archers let fly clouds of poisoned arrows, which they preferred to firearms and used with more deadly effect. Ship to ship they were lashed now, fighting hand-to-hand. Huge Barbarigo fought like a lion, until, taking his shield from his face to shout an order, he was pierced through the eye with an arrow.

It was the Christian right that stood the heaviest attack. Doria was held in fear and respect by the Moslems. Moreover, he occupied the most dangerous post, where strategy and good sailing counted. If there was a match for him among the mariners of the Mediterranean, it was Aluch Ali, the Italian apostate. As the Turkish left tried to gain the open sea, to attack by poop and prow, Doria extended his line farther to the right, leaving a space between his squadron and the batalla. Aluch Ali swiftly changed his course and came crashing through the open space with his best ships, while his slower sailing galleys took the Genoese on the side toward the open sea. Doria, heavily outnumbered, fought a magnificent engagement. On ten of his vessels, nearly all the soldiers were killed in the first hour of the conflict. The handful of survivors fought on, desperately holding their ships in the hope of succor.

Santa Cruz' reserve, however, had gone to the aid of some of the Venetians on the left, and the whole batalla was locked in mortal conflict with the Turkish center. As soon as Ali Pasha saw where the holy flags flew over the galley of Don Juan, he drove straight for it. The two enormous hulks crashed prow to prow. Ali's ship was higher and heavier, and manned with 500 picked Janizaries.

The wisdom of Doria's advice to cut away the espolones was now apparent; while the Turk's artillery fired through the rigging of the Real, Don Juan's poured death into the ranks of the Janizaries as the ships grappled. Hand-to-hand they fought from one deck to the other, for two hours. Seven Turkish ships stood by to help the Sultana. As fast as the Janizaries fell on the decks, they were replaced by others from the hulks of reserve. Twice the horde of yelling Turks penetrated the Real to the main mast, and twice the Spaniards thrust them back. But Don Juan, with heavy losses, had only two ships of reserves. Fighting gallantly in a little ring of chosen Spanish cavaliers, he was wounded in the foot. His situation was extremely perilous, in fact, when Santa Cruz, having saved the Venetians, came to his aid and rushed 200 reserves aboard.

Heartened by this fresh blood, the Spanish threw themselves on Ali and his Janizaries so furiously that they hurled them back into their own ship. Three times the Christians charged, and three times the Turks cast them out over decks now red and slippery with blood, piled with heaps of dead men, ghastly mangled trunks, severed arms and legs still quivering. The two fleets were locked in the embrace of death, ships lashed by twos and threes in water already streaked with crimson from floating bodies and limbs. The din of musketry, screams of rage and pain, clash of steel on steel, thunder of artillery, falling of spars and lashing of bloody waters between rocking timbers resounded horribly all through the Sunday afternoon. Splendid and terrible deeds were done. Old Veniero, seventy years old, fought sword in hand at the head of his men. Cervantes arose from his bed of fever to fight and to lose his left hand. Young Alexander of Parma boarded a Turkish galley alone, and survived the experience. The moment was critical, and the issue still in doubt, when the magnificent Ali Pasha, defending his ship from the last Christian onslaught, was laid low by a ball from a Spanish arquebus. His body was dragged to the feet of Don Juan. A Spanish soldier triumphantly pounced upon it and shore away the head. One version says that Don Juan reproved him for this brutality. Another, more likely, says that the Prince impaled the head on the end of a long pike and held it up for all to see. Hoarse shouts of victory burst from the Christians on the Real, as they brushed the disheartened Turks into the sea and hoisted the banner of Christ Crucified to the enemy masthead. There was not a single hole in this flag, though the spars and masts were riddled, and the mainmast bristled with arrows like a porcupine. From ship to ship the shout of triumph was taken up, with the word that Ali was dead and the Christians had won. A panic seized the enemy, and he took to flight.

As the sun sank over Cephalonia, Doria's right wing was still furiously engaged with the Algerians. Gianandrea was red from head to foot with blood, but escaped without a scratch. When Aluch Ali saw that the Moslem fleet was getting the worse of it, he skillfully withdrew between the right and the center of the Christians. In the rear of Doria's fleet he came upon a galley of the Knights of Malta, whom he especially hated. He pounced upon it from the stern, slew all the knights and the crew, and took possession of the vessel; but when Santa Cruz attacked him, he abandoned his prize and fled with 40 of his best ships toward the open sea and the crimson sunset. Doria's fleet pursued him until night and the coming of a storm forced him to desist.

The Christians took refuge in the port of Petala, and there counted their casualties, which were comparatively light, and their booty, which was exceedingly rich. They had lost 8,000 slain, including 2,000 Spanish, 800 of the Pope's men, and 5,200 Venetians. The Turks had lost 224 vessels, 130 captured and more than 90 sunk or burned; at least 25,000 of their men had been slain, and 5,000 captured; 10,000 of their Christian captives were set free.

Don Juan at once sent ten galleys to Spain to inform the King, and dispatched the Count of Priego to Rome. But Pius V had speedier means of communication than galleys. On the afternoon of Sunday, October seventh, he was walking in the Vatican with his treasurer, Donata Cesis. The evening before he had sent out orders to all convents in Rome and nearby to double their prayers for the Victory of the Christian fleet, but now he was listening to a recital of some of his financial difficulties. Suddenly he stepped aside, opened a window, and stood watching the sky as if astonished. Then, turning with a radiant face to the treasurer, he said,

"Go with God. This is not the time for business, but to give thanks to Jesus Christ, for our fleet has just conquered."

He then hurried to his chapel to prostrate himself in thanksgiving. Afterwards he went out, and everybody noticed his youthful step and joyous countenance.

The first news of the battle, through human agencies, reached Rome by way of Venice on the night of October twenty-first, just two weeks after the event. Saint Pius went to St. Peter's in a procession, singing the Te Deum Laudamus. There was great joy in Rome. The Holy Father commemorated the victory by designating October seventh as the Feast of the Holy Rosary, and by adding "Help of Christians" to the titles of Our Lady in the Litany of Loreto.

From the very first Don Juan ascribed the triumph of his fleet to the powerful intercession of the Rosary Queen. The Venetian Senate wrote to the other States which had taken part in the Crusade: "It was not generals nor battalions nor arms that brought us victory; but it was Our Lady of the Rosary."

#october 7th feast of the most holy rosary

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ascendantent · 4 years ago

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Latinx literary agent New York

While we know about the requirement for different books and that Latinos are a developing segment, getting a book distributed by a respectable press can be an overwhelming errand. For Latino scholars the trip can be so steep, it may appear to be unimaginable. Let’s see some latinx literary agent New York:

Laura Dail Artistic organization addresses Guillermo Arriaga, Foundation Grant assigned screenwriter of "Loves Perros," "Babel," and "21 Grams." She most as of late joined the dazzling journal of José Carlos Agüero, the child of Sparkling Way extreme left-wing agitators in Peru. Her inspirational statements to Latino scholars looking for portrayal: "Great comps consistently go far, however inquiry letters are a test for each essayist and entire books are expounded on it. Yet, Hispanic writers can realize that book distributing has woken up and we need to discover and create and advance assorted voices and stories and points of view." With regards to what she searches for in a different writer, there are two principle things: "I need to hear the writer's credible voice and experience; and afterward I need every one of the things that perusers need from each book: an extraordinary story, exact, lovely language, great pacing, nuanced, authentic characters, new thoughts, shocks.

Another latinx literary agent New York is Adriana Dominguez addresses a scope of Latino writers like Reyna Grande, writer of the Public Book Pundits Circle Grant Finalist diary "The Distance Between us," Angela Cervantes, writer of the awardwinning center evaluation novel "Gaby Lost and Found" and Rafael López, grant winning artist of a few picture books for kids, including "Drum Beauty queen" by Margarita Engle. Over portion of the creators she addresses are Hispanic. As a Latina, she says she is intensely mindful of the requirement for more Latino writers to more readily address this developing segment, particularly with regards to youthful perusers.

Leticia Gomez addresses among others, long time columnists Tony Castro and Sylvia Mendoza, just as grant winning Chicana/Latina creator Graciela Limon. She appraises that around half of her customer list are Latino and other ethnic minority creators. "I've generally felt these are the journalists who are periodically underrepresented, distorted or more regrettable yet, not addressed by any means," Gomez said. She suggests that Latino journalists put their best exertion into their work while questioning an abstract organization. Latinx literary agent New York are forward looking.

#latinx literary agent #latinx literary agent new york #literary agent nyc #latinx literary agent manhattan #latinx literary agent philadelphia #top literary agents in new york #best literary agent

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artistmitchy · 2 years ago

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I think young Sunny would be the kind of kid who would want to play with any cape or cloak she sees.

#Giant Robo #ジャイアントロボ #Giant Robo OVA #ジャイアントロボ OVA #Giant Robo The animation #ジャイアントロボ THE ANIMATION #Sunny #Sunny the magician #Cervantes #Cervantes the dazzling #Dazzling Cervantes #Mitsuteru Yokoyama #横山光輝 #Vintage manga #Vintage anime #My art

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years ago

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What to Eat at Costa Rica’s Dazzling Mercado Central

Breakfast at Soda Tala: coffee, aguadulce en leche (panela or unprocessed cane sugar in warm milk), a Talapinto with salchichón, and a tortilla con queso.

Wander the maze-like aisles of San José’s historic market for gallo pinto, picadillo, and anything else you could ever want

When navigating Costa Rica, landmarks are your main guide. Though street and house numbers definitely exist, the country has never fully developed a nationwide address system. Instead, you find places according to their proximity to other places: houses that belonged to famous historical figures, government buildings, statues, restaurants, and even trees are all possible reference points. If it’s a well-known spot, it’s bound to be used in an address. And the Mercado Central is the best-known of them all.

Established in 1880 and located in the heart of downtown San José, the Mercado Central is the city’s main market and spans more than an entire block of the Avenida Central. It’s a winding labyrinth of alleys and narrow corridors overcrowded with herbal remedies, flowers, local handicrafts, leather goods, spices and, of course, food.

“People here like to think of it as Costa Rica’s first mall,” says Roberto Campos, the administrator of the Mercado Central. But to describe it as a mall would be underselling its cultural importance. The Mercado’s role in Costa Rican society is vast and nebulous; this is where home remedies, staple recipes, local crafts, and traditions have lived on for more than a hundred years. The building was formally declared a cultural patrimony (a designated place of cultural importance) in 1995.

One of the most enduring parts of the market’s charm are the sodas — small restaurant stalls and cafeterias — many of which have been operating with the same menus for more than a century. These casual eateries are where you can find some of the best traditional Costa Rican cooking from all over the country. But without much in the way of signage, finding the best sodas takes a little work: Ask other customers or vendors and follow the crowds.

In fact, it is said there are two things that will happen to anyone visiting the Mercado, regardless of whether you’re a regular or a first-time customer: you will get lost, and you’ll get distracted. The way the Mercado is organized is the result of organic growth over time rather than careful planning, which might explain why you’ll find a soda selling empanadas next to a jewelry shop, and a flower shop plunked in front of a spice stall. Some of the sodas are easy to spot and others a bit hidden, so it’s best to ask around if you’re looking for something specific. Better yet, explore.

At the time of writing, the COVID-19 regulations issued by the Costa Rican Ministry of Health still require all bars and cantinas to remain closed, including those at the Mercado Central. But the food stalls and other businesses are open as usual, from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. every day. Some stalls accept cards and dollars, but Costa Rican colones are best. Here, then, is what to seek out for the ultimate taste of the Mercado Central.

Breakfast

The best-known breakfast dish — or possibly any dish — in Costa Rica is the gallo pinto, a magical concoction of rice and beans mixed together until the bean broth is completely absorbed by the rice. A typical gallo pinto breakfast is served with fried plantains, corn tortillas, slices of fresh cheese or a dollop of sour cream, and a protein of some sort: maybe bacon, sausage, a couple of fried eggs, fried cheese, or a steak.

At the Mercado Central, almost every soda offers its own take on the classic. Soda Tapia, a famous diner founded in 1893, serves a gallo pinto with plenty of olores (the Costa Rican version of the sofrito, with onion, cilantro, and sweet bell peppers) and optional sides including fried eggs, fried cheese, and slices of buttered bread.

Soda Tala serves another version of the gallo pinto known as the Talapinto: a thin egg omelet with chives at the base, a hefty portion of pinto, and a couple of slices of fried salchichón (sausage) on top. Natalia Cervantes (known as “Tala”) created the Talapinto at the behest of her customers, and it’s become so popular she’s trademarked the term.

Another popular breakfast dish here is the tortilla con queso or tortilla aliñada. Soda San Martín, founded in 1910, has two versions of this dish: the regular tortilla, which mixes fresh cheese into the white corn masa, and the tortilla rellena, a decadent riff stuffed with copious amounts of aged cheese and served with sour cream.

Gallos and Other Small Bites

A gallo, as defined by Costa Rican food historian Marjorie Ross, is something that can be wrapped up in a corn tortilla. That means just about anything can be a gallo, and virtually everything tastes better as one. One gallo is meant to be an appetizer; a couple make for a satisfying lunch, and you’ll find gallos at virtually every soda in the Mercado. Just pick your favorite filling.

At Soda San Bosco, which is right next to Soda San José, you can have a gallo de chile relleno (fried beef-stuffed peppers served over a couple of corn tortillas) or a gallo de barbudos (green beans, battered and fried). There’s even a gallo de canelón, which is a fried cannelloni filled with minced beef.

Gallos are also the perfect way to enjoy a good picadillo. The mixture of finely minced beef, vegetables, and spices is a requisite at any Costa Rican meal. Try the potato and chorizo version from Soda Flor del Carmen. The earthiness of the achiote, a red-hued spice commonly used throughout Central and South America, accentuates the heat of the chorizo.

The taco de camarón from Soda Flor del Carmen

And then, of course, there’s the almighty empanada, that stuffed-and-fried pocket of white corn masa that’s a ubiquitous street snack throughout Costa Rica, and much of Latin America. Recipes vary by region, and many are represented at the Mercado. The empanadas from Soda Puntarenas are considered some of the best in San José, perfectly spiced and crispy. The empanadas at Soda San Martín are known for their crunchy, herbed masa that goes great with cheese. The ones from Soda Flor del Carmen feature inventive fillings, like the pizza-flavored empanada and potato picadillo.

Lunch and Bigger Plates

Virtually every soda at the Mercado Central has its own twist on the Costa Rican casado, a combo plate of rice, beans, a protein of any kind (usually grilled or breaded chicken, pork chop, steak and onion, or fish) and salad. The formula is basic, but how each soda interprets it is what’s fascinating.

At Soda San José, the casado includes an option of chicken in tomato sauce or breaded fish, served alongside starchy sides including parboiled potatoes and spaghetti. The owner, doña Tere, always asks if you want an additional side of salad or tortillas. Soda Cristal’s casado, on the other hand, includes either breaded chicken or fish with accompaniments like a riff on Russian beet salad, spaghetti, tortilla chips, and picadillo, and a bowl of beef broth called sustancia.

Soda San Martín, which also offers casados, is known for another traditional Costa Rican dish — the olla de carne, a beef-and-vegetable stew boiled for several hours until the meat is soft and flaky. This version comes in three separate bowls: one with clear beef broth, another with meat and vegetables, and a third with plain white rice. You could try each bowl separately, but the idea is to gradually add the rice and vegetables to the broth, mixing them all together.

The caldosa — a type of Costa Rican ceviche served in a bag of Picaritas (a local brand of barbecue-flavored corn chips) — from Marisquería Costa Rica

The Mercado Central is one of the few places that still sells figurines of Nigüenta, a popular character in Costa Rican folklore, which are believed to bring good luck.

The Mercado Central is a point of confluence for many regional cuisines, and few are featured as prominently as the marisquerías, or fish shops, from the Pacific Coast. Seek out the arroz con camarones (stir-fried rice with shrimp) at the Marisquería Costa Rica, fish soup at Marisquería San José, or fried sea bass at Soda Cristal.

Coffee and Dessert

In a country known for incredible brews, a quick stop at Cafetería Central for a cup of coffee is mandatory before leaving the market. Ask for a café chorreado, a pour-over method specific to Costa Rica that uses a wooden stand fitted with a cotton sack in lieu of a paper filter.

For something sweet, La Sorbetera de Lolo Mora offers helado de sorbetera, or artisanal ice cream. “Sorbetera” is the Costa Rican Spanish word for the hand-crank ice cream maker. There’s only one flavor here, but it’s the only one you need: a delicately spiced vanilla ice cream with hints of nutmeg, cinnamon, and clove. It’s been made the same way by the Mora family for more than a century.

But if variety is your thing, try the specialty scoops at Soda Tapia in flavors like cas (a relative of the guava) and soursop, topped with chopped tropical fruits and heaps of cherry gelatin.

Lolo Mora’s famous artisanal ice cream with fruit, gelatin, and wafers

Sofía González is a Costa Rican food, culture, and technology writer living in San José.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2IpebyG https://ift.tt/3kmUoNA

Breakfast at Soda Tala: coffee, aguadulce en leche (panela or unprocessed cane sugar in warm milk), a Talapinto with salchichón, and a tortilla con queso.

Wander the maze-like aisles of San José’s historic market for gallo pinto, picadillo, and anything else you could ever want

Breakfast

Gallos and Other Small Bites

The taco de camarón from Soda Flor del Carmen

Lunch and Bigger Plates

The caldosa — a type of Costa Rican ceviche served in a bag of Picaritas (a local brand of barbecue-flavored corn chips) — from Marisquería Costa Rica

The Mercado Central is one of the few places that still sells figurines of Nigüenta, a popular character in Costa Rican folklore, which are believed to bring good luck.

Coffee and Dessert

But if variety is your thing, try the specialty scoops at Soda Tapia in flavors like cas (a relative of the guava) and soursop, topped with chopped tropical fruits and heaps of cherry gelatin.

Lolo Mora’s famous artisanal ice cream with fruit, gelatin, and wafers

Sofía González is a Costa Rican food, culture, and technology writer living in San José.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2IpebyG via Blogger https://ift.tt/38G1cDw

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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surejaya · 5 years ago

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Quichotte

Quichotte by Salman Rushdie

In a tour-de-force that is both an homage to an immortal work of literature and a modern masterpiece about the quest for love and family, Booker Prize-winning, internationally bestselling author Salman Rushdie has created a dazzling Don Quixote for the modern age. Inspired by the Cervantes classic, Sam DuChamp, mediocre writer of spy thrillers, creates Quichotte, a courtly, addled salesman obsessed with television, who falls in impossible love with a TV star. Together with his (imaginary) son Sancho, Quichotte sets off on a picaresque quest across America to prove worthy of her hand, gallantly braving the tragicomic perils of an age where “Anything-Can-Happen”. Meanwhile his creator, in a midlife crisis, has equally urgent challenges of his own. Just as Cervantes wrote Don Quixote to satirise the culture of his time, Rushdie takes the reader on a wild ride through a country on the verge of moral and spiritual collapse. And with the kind of storytelling magic that is the hallmark of his work, the fully realised lives of DuChamp and Quichotte intertwine in a profoundly human quest for love and a wickedly entertaining portrait of an age in which fact is so often indiscernible from fiction.

Download : Quichotte Quichotte More Book at: Zaqist Book

#book #zaqist #zaqistbook #zaQist Book : Read Latest eBook

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iwontdancenetwork · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

The Royal Ballet rehearse the Act III Pas de deux from Don Quixote (Naghdi, Sambé)

Love and friendship triumph in Carlos Acosta's vibrant production of this dazzling ballet. Yasmine Naghdi and Marcelino Sambé of The Royal Ballet rehearse the Act III pas de deux as part of the recent Insight event.

Don Quixote is one of Marius Petipa's much-loved 19th-century classics - its story is drawn from Miguel de Cervantes's classic novel and set to Ludwig Minkus's score. The ballet has long been acclaimed for its virtuoso dancing, beautiful and technically demanding 'vision scene' and the famously bravura and breath-taking Act III pas de deux.

Carlos Acosta's production was created for The Royal Ballet in 2013, and brings the sunshine of Spain and the exuberance of the entire Company to the stage. Acosta created new choreography for the gypsy scene in Act II, and uniquely for this production of Don Quixote added on-stage musicians. Warmth, charm and entertainment abound in this energetic and witty ballet, reflected too in the characterful backdrops of Tim Hatley's vibrant designs.

#royal ballet #ballet #ballerina #dance #dancers #videos

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global-books-blog · 5 years ago

Photo

📚 Buy it through our online bookstore. - In a tour-de-force that is both an homage to an immortal work of literature and a modern masterpiece about the quest for love and family, Booker Prize-winning, internationally bestselling author Salman Rushdie has created a dazzling Don Quixote for the modern age. Inspired by the Cervantes classic, Sam DuChamp, mediocre writer of spy thrillers, creates Quichotte, a courtly, addled salesman obsessed with television, who falls in impossible love with a TV star. Together with his (imaginary) son Sancho, Quichotte sets off on a picaresque quest across America to prove worthy of her hand, gallantly braving the tragicomic perils of an age where “Anything-Can-Happen”. Meanwhile his creator, in a midlife crisis, has equally urgent challenges of his own. Just as Cervantes wrote Don Quixote to satirise the culture of his time, Rushdie takes the reader on a wild ride through a country on the verge of moral and spiritual collapse. And with the kind of storytelling magic that is the hallmark of his work, the fully realised lives of DuChamp and Quichotte intertwine in a profoundly human quest for love and a wickedly entertaining portrait of an age in which fact is so often indiscernible from fiction. https://www.instagram.com/p/B2YrEKggmmJ/?igshid=kje8c3lemxru

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tirsaroundtheworld · 7 years ago

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Philippines

After a night of indulging in the luxury of Singapore airport, I arrived in Manila nicely on time for Bamsi's arrival. How great it was to be reunited after 7 months!! 👯 We literally took hours to catch up still at the airport. 😂 The remainder of the day we spent designing our itinerary, before we took off to start our 5 weeks of adventure. As the situation in the south was very unstable, we decided to stay on Luzon. Our stay in the Philippines ended up to be short, but sweet. Of the 9 days that we spent exploring Luzon we probably spent over 50% in any type of bus, but luckily many adventures happened along the way and these were the highlights: # After a night in Manila we made our way up north to Vigan, an old Spanish colonial city with a lovely old center. The Spanish street style combined with the horses and carriages, the old buildings, the helpful and friendly people, the magical fountain show and the shining sun made it a perfect place to warm us up to Luzon. 🌞 # Using a public bus, 3 different but all very local and overused minivans and a typically Philippino jeepney we made our way past countless stunning views from Bitalag to Cervantes to Abatan to Bontoc and finally to Sagada. This sleepy village in the heart of the cordillera used to be home to the Igorot tribe that has some interesting traditions for the burial of their ancesters. The deceased men who past 80 years of age are buried in foetal position in tiny coffins that hang from the wall of a cliff. This way they are closer to nature and closer to heaven when they decease. The women and younger deceased are buried inside various caves. Over the years with the American influence, more and more people became catholic so this type of burial isn't very popular anymore. There are however still some people opting for a hanging afterlife and the newest coffin was placed in 2010. An interesting tradition with an interesting view! # Being in such tiny places with rich histories and little modern developments is very interesting, but has some disadvantages as well. One of them became very real in Sagada; we could not get any money from the only ATM in town, our cash was running out quickly and not a single place would accept any of our cards. Sooner than planned we thus continued our way to our next destination, hoping we could get some cash in the larger Bontoc on the way. When in Bontoc, with the next 1 hour jeepney to Banaue already full and waiting for us to leave, we tried all ATMs, banks and other possibilities but none would accept our cards. Oh oh... This left us only one option: to go out of the way to the closest big city. This city was Baguio, located a 6 hour drive away in exactly the opposite of our desired direction and we did not even have enough cash left to pay a ticket for the bus. 😫 Luckily we met the friendliest local lady who prepaid for our tickets, had her husband fetch us upon arrival in Baguio, took us along different ATMs until we found one that would give us cash and then got us back on a minivan that took us straight back past Bontoc to Banaue through the night. So a 14 hour detour, a LOT of hassle and discomfort later we finally reached Banaue. A big shout out to this lady and her family, if it wasn't for them we would not have made it!! 🙌 # Completely exhausted we first checked into a little hostel to catch some sleep, before we continued our travels to the tiny village of Batad. For first part of this route we took a tricycle, but the last part of the route to Batad, located in the midst of the mountains and countless terraces of rice, can only be crossed by foot. On this last bit of the route we were overtaken by a local guy carrying a large number of concrete bricks running down the narrow and rocky path, who stopped to ask if we were interested in a local guide. We were, so we would meet each other in the village and he ran off. At the end of the path we were welcomed into Batad with the most breathtaking view of the bright green ricefields with stunning stone walls covering the mountains as far as we could look, decorated with the tiny village in the valley and a river running along its side. The sun was shining and countless colourful dragonflies flew around us; what a beautiful place!! The guy with the bricks introduced us to a local homestay and after a short lunchbreak his wife Eliza took us along into the valley. Eliza was an amazing guide, telling us all about the history of the rice terraces, the life in the communities and the local traditions. While we walked up and down the steep mountains and through the terraces on the narrowest paths with 5m drops, she amazed us with her stories about that the rice harvest isn't even enough to feed the local communities, that richdom is measured in the amount of children one has and that insane prices are paid for pigs and buffalos for traditional celebrations. After a rather intense walk we reached the highest viewpoint, which gave us a majestic view over all of Batad and behind and it absolutely blew our minds! Still dazzled, we descended into the village of Cambullo where we visited local homes and baught some ridiculously overpriced water before we headed back to Batad for the night. In the morning Eliza took us all the way down the valley to the waterfall, where we had a lovely refreshing swim before we had to climb right back up the mountain. On the way we passed tiny local shops selling "I survived Batad"-shirts in different colours, quite on spot! 😂 It sure wasn't easy, just like our adventures to get there, but the struggle was worth it for sure. Batad truly is an amazing place!! 🙌 Another nightbus took us from Banaue back to Manila, where we spend a final day of riding jeepneys, visiting malls and exploring the rather disappointing Intramuros and surrounds. And then it was time to head back to the airport, with mixed feelings and so much ground left unexplored. I will have to come back to the Philippines one day, but for now: off to Indonesia! 👯🏝🇲🇨

#Vigan #Sagada #Banaue #Baguio #Batad #Manila #Philippines #traveling #aroundtheworld #blog

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spicynbachili1 · 6 years ago

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Soulcalibur VI review | Rock Paper Shotgun

Developer: Bandai Namco Studios Writer: Bandai Namco Leisure

Launch: Out now On: PC From: Steam Value: £50, $60, €60

That is Hooves. He likes to stab and parry and slash and communicate in an alien tongue about how good he’s in any respect of these issues. Hooves additionally enjoys setting people on hearth, and paralysing individuals with horrifying runes, which has led some observers (me) to dub him “Horse Geralt” after the hero of The Witcher three. Unbeknownst to Hooves, he is a clone of the Witcher. That’s proper, poor horsey doesn’t even know who daddy is.

Though this backstory of Hooves’ is my very own dumb invention, it’s no extra fanciful than any of the opposite tales in preventing sport Soulcalibur VI, a rampant, fun-loving area of swordplay and silliness.

To get one thing out of the way in which: I’m a preventing video games dabbler. An indignant wee toad, not a champion. I wouldn’t swear on a replica of Road Fighter II in court docket, however I benefit from the odd bust-up in Tekken 7 or For Honor or Absolver. There’s a tense satisfaction in memorising the appropriate button-slaps for a vaulting deathkick or a flurry of needle-like pokes. And much more satisfaction in stunning your self, and finishing up these dance-like combos in the course of sloppy battle towards some nervy skeleton in a giant costume. However extra on the odd warriors of this explicit preventing sport in a second. First, we should contemplate the constancy of its stabbing. That’s crucial.

The fundamentals are easy sufficient. There are horizontal assaults, vertical assaults, kicks and a guard button. It’s simple stuff, largely. Every character’s movelist is split into totally different pages. A single web page provides you all their predominant assaults: the slashes and lunges and heelstomps you’ll discover most helpful. It’s a strong introduction to every swordsperson. Maxi is a dandy who likes to hit individuals with nunchaku, for instance, after which he does a somersault, most likely from pleasure. Xianghua is a lady with a wobbly sword. She is blood kind B, and likes to carry out the next strikes: murdering you.

There’s additionally an honest tutorial constructed into the “Libra of Soul” mode. This can be a sort-of-RPG through which you journey round a map preventing pc enemies for factors. It’s largely good for studying the fundamentals by preventing an AI sensei early within the journey, who tells you the best way to parry correctly. All these educating strategies and coaching modes make the sport really feel like a great place to shuffle into the Soulcalibur world, and for a Tekken boy like me, that’s largely true. However being a Tekken boy, I’m additionally immunised towards a sure flaw of 3D fighters: terrible storytelling.

The story mode here’s a dangerous anime folded upon itself a number of occasions, like a soggy origami crane. Every character will get their very own paper sculpture of cringey dialogue and scatterbrained plot on prime of the vanilla marketing campaign. For loreheads, perhaps there’s something in these tales, however there wasn’t for me. And I’m guessing even followers care little about Xianghua’s quest for the sword of legend, or Kilik’s quest for the sword of legend, or Taki’s quest for the– you get the concept. The actual thrill is within the sidestep, the parry, the launcher.

Right here’s the place it will get complicated. Coming from Tekken or Road Fighter, the hidden sport of rock-paper-scissors-guard-throw-break-parry-reversal-counter leaves me a bit feverish. In multiplayer, the sport throws all its weight at you quickly sufficient. Making an attempt to take care of the onslaught, I delved deeper into the coaching modes, and shortly lumps of jargon have been sticking to my eyelids like gore. Deadly hits, guard impacts, reversal edge, run counters, soul cost, reverse impacts. Razzle dazzle preventing sport terminology. It’s nothing a diehard biffer received’t have the ability to swallow in a single gulp, however a slowpoke similar to I wants a little bit of time to sup.

However studying is nice. And you may solely actually study within the ring. Right here, glowing results and pop-up notes spotlight the risks. I do know when Nightmare (giant, impolite man whose solely good friend is a sword with a watch) spouts flames that he’s charging up an unblockable assault. I do know when Seong Mi-na (unremarkable lady everybody within the village needs to marry) twirls her pointy Guandao above her head that she is “soul charged” and can now do extra-damaging strikes. I do know when Cervantes (zombie pirate and creator of Don Quixote) strikes me with a crimson slash it means a “reversal edge”.

This can be a good ‘un, the previous reversal edge. It’s a cinematic second through which every participant has to decide to a single assault, or carry out a feisty dodge. It’s nice stuff, particularly whenever you each go for a similar transfer, clanging off one another and leaping again in a panic, earlier than taking yet another hectic guess. It’s a bit extra sophisticated than rock, paper, scissors. However mainly: a sideways slice will beat somebody attempting to kick you, a kick will beat somebody attempting to hack into you with a vertical hit, and a vertical chop will beat somebody swinging from the facet.

However when this and different strikes are all combined collectively by a well-trained participant, I fall to items. Which means two issues: I have to get higher. And that is extra sophisticated than it first seems to be.

Right here’s the place the “fight classes” are neat. These are small “the best way to” manuals for every assassin. They’re dry textual content dumps however in addition they break down the essential technique for every character. I thumbed by the recommendation for stick-swinging Kilik, for instance, and discovered the best way to maintain foes at vary with a handful of staple strikes: extensive, sweeping swings of his bo employees. Positive sufficient, after I went into an actual battle with that mentality, it labored. Wanting by Horse Geralt’s fight classes, I see that some strikes whip out his silver sword, which does extra harm to opponents pumped stuffed with soul cost. In different phrases, a great way to place down a raging bull of a participant.

These are the small print you usually have to search for in YouTube movies stuffed with impenetrable chess-like notations. I like these movies, however I’m glad to have some fundamentals defined within the sport itself, as a result of I’m an fool. 4 paragraphs in the past I wrote a couple of Guandao. I had no concept it was known as that. I needed to look it up by googling “chiense spear” [sic].

However I’ve been dancing across the true great thing about Soulcalibur VI lengthy sufficient. The character creator is the true star of this sport. It’s a feast of potentialities, providing you a bunch of fantasy races to base your character on, then forcing you to repeat and paste the preventing model of a predominant character into their slider-born physique. I’ve made a complete gang of lizard lads, and photographed them as in the event that they have been indulging in some reptilian stag do. I’ve created total Halloween boybands, mummies in waistcoats, orcs in hotpants, a skeleton with a bandana.

But all that is nothing in comparison with the hideous creativeness of the internet-at-large. Any individual has made Marge Simpson. Any individual made a Xenomorph. There’s Zoidberg and The Hulk and “Sexy Venom”. There are such a lot of good issues. Right here is Spiderman preventing a fully-functioning Magikarp.

The moment-to-moment preventing is robust stuff. While you and an opponent get right into a string of blocks and geese and parries, it takes on the power of a lethal tennis rally, and that’s all I actually demand from a preventing sport: a handsome injection of adrenaline. But it surely’s the preposterous and fantastic character creator that makes the entire thing stand out, offering sufficient daftness to take the sting of that adrenal hit. For lengthy stretches, I put aside the shoulder-hunching stress of ranked mode and simply frolicked in informal rooms, preventing shapeshifters and stone individuals and elves and inappropriately proportioned rabbit girls. Though, that model of fighter isn’t restricted to participant creations.

Leeriness is hard-coded into this sport. Girl swordsters duel with boobs akimbo, nipples perking by their leotards, asses clamouring to flee the claustrophobic boundaries of a HD monitor. Pull off the appropriate strikes and you’ll hit your opponent so arduous that their garments come off or deteriorate, and although this impacts all fighters, it’s arduous to not elevate a sceptical eyebrow at such a schoolboy characteristic, seemingly designed to let gamers lech a glimpse at Sophitia’s sideboob. None of this takes away from the clashing of spear and dagger, the standard of the preventing itself, however it nonetheless feels immature and embarrassing.

This lizard with a dick is ok although.

In all, I’m happy by my scrappy fights, and my tutelage of Hooves the horse man continues. One unhappy factor to notice is that £50 is a excessive worth, a fandom worth, and that’s a pity. As a result of the character creator, thorough tutorials and RPG-ish story modes are an open-armed invitation to people who would possibly usually run away from preventing video games with their arms flailing. I think about lapsed followers too, these bizarre vampires and demons and nightmarish Sonics would possibly assume to themselves: “I used to like Soulcalibur. Possibly I might…” However then they’ll see the worth tag, and all that good will and Dreamcast nostalgia will vanish like a closed browser tab.

If that’s you, I can’t blame you. You could possibly purchase a smelly armchair from Greg down the highway for £50, and also you’d most likely get simply as a lot adrenaline and problem from getting that into your third flooring house as you’ll preventing one other terrifying Voldo to the demise. However the second this goes on sale, good friend, the very second it drops its guard – you slice open your pockets and let it bleed. Since you’ll by no means have a good friend like Hooves.

from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/soulcalibur-vi-review-rock-paper-shotgun/

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