#Comte St. German

[the-last-tsar]

""My dream is some day to marry Alix H. I have loved her a long while and still deeper and stronger since 1889 when she spent six weeks in St. Petersburg. For a long time, I resisted my feeling that my dearest dream will come true."

When Nicholas made this entry in his diary in 1892, he had not yet established his temporary little household with Kschessinska. He was discouraged about the prospects of his interest in Princess Alix. Russian society did not share Nicholas's rapture for this German girl with red-gold hair. Mix had made a bad impression during her visits to her sister Grand Duchess Elizabeth in the Russian capital. Badly dressed, clumsy, an awkward dancer, atrocious French accent, a schoolgirl blush, too shy, too nervous, too arrogant—these were some of the unkind things St. Petersburg said about Alix of Hesse. Society sniped openly at Princess Mix, safe in the knowledge that Tsar Alexander III and Empress Marie, both vigorously anti-German, had no intention of permitting a match with the Tsarevich. Although Princess Alix was his godchild, it was generally known that Alexander III was angling for a bigger catch for his son, someone like Princess Helene, the tall, dark-haired daughter of the Pretender to the throne of France, the Comte de Paris. Although a republic, France was Russia's ally, and Alexander III suspected that a link between the Romanov dynasty and the deposed House of Bourbon would strengthen the alliance in the hearts of the French people. But the approach to Helene did not please Nicholas. "Mama made a few allusions to Helene, daughter of the Comte de Paris," he wrote in his diary. "I myself want to go in one direction and it is evident that Mama wants me to choose the other one." Helene also resisted. She was not at all willing to give up her Roman Catholicism for the Orthodox faith required of a future Russian empress. Frustrated, the Tsar next sent emissaries to Princess Margaret of Prussia. Nicholas flatly declared that he would rather become a monk than marry the plain and bony Margaret. Margaret spared him, however, by announcing that she, too, was unwilling to abandon Protestantism for Orthodoxy. Through it all, Nicholas nurtured his hope that someday he would marry Alix. Before leaving for the Far East, he wrote in his diary, "Oh, Lord, how I want to go to llinskoe [Ella's country house, where Alix was visiting] … otherwise if I do not see her now, I shall have to wait a whole year and that will be hard." His parents continued to discourage his ardor. Alix, they said, would never change her religion in order to marry him. Nicholas asked permission only to see her and propose. If Alix were denied him, he stated, he would never marry. As long as he was well, Alexander III ignored his son's demands. In the winter of 1894, however, the Tsar caught influenza and began having trouble with his kidneys. As his vitality began to ebb alarmingly, Alexander began to consider how Russia would manage without him. Nothing could be done immediately about the Tsarevich's lack of experience, but Alexander III decided that he could at least provide his heir with the stabilizing effect of marriage. As Princess Alix was the only girl whom Nicholas would even remotely consider, Alexander III and Marie reluctantly agreed that he should be allowed to propose. For Nicholas, it was a great personal victory. For the first time in his life he had overcome every obstacle, pushed aside all objections, defeated his overpowering father and had his way."

Nicholas and Alexandra | Robert K. Massie.

[aquagirl1978]

C H A T S

Another Family Meeting - No Pets in le Thermae

Can you tie a tie?

New Residents at the Mansion (IkeVamp Meets IkeSen)

The One Where Leonardo Accepted a NSFW Art Commission

The One Where Jean Got Horny During Mozart's Concert

Father's Day at the Mansion

The One Where Leonardo Fell Asleep at the Wheel

Leonardo? Napoleon? Who?

H E A D C A N O N S

Suitor Reacts to a Fight (Leonardo, Arthur)

MC Reaction to Being Mad at Suitor (Leonardo, Arthur, Comte, Vlad)

Suitors Giving You a Massage (Napoleon, Leonardo, Theo, Jean)

A R T H U R

Santa Claus is coming to town (NSFW)

Have You Ever? (NSFW)

Reflections (NSFW)

Morning Coffee

C H A R L E S

A Joyful Wish (NSFW)

C O M T E

Tempting Desires (NSFW)

Dear Diary (Comte de St. Germain x Reader x Vlad)

Bound (NSFW)

Miss You More (NSFW)

My Cherie Amour (NSFW)

Auld Lang Syne

D A Z A I

In Through the Window...

And Into the Bedroom (NSFW)

D R A K E

Summer Dreams (NSFW)

J E A N

Let's Make Mararons (NSFW)

An Afternoon Surprise

Stolen Kisses (NSFW)

A New Tradition (NSFW)(Napoleon x Reader x Jean)

Happy Birthday (NSFW)

Thank You for Loving Me

Silent Night

L E O N A R D O

Don't Make a Mess (NSFW)

A Gift for Lumiere (NSFW)

Ghosts of Christmas Past (NSFW)

Painting with the Master

Unexpected Plans

Cara Mia (NSFW)

The Night We Met

M O Z A R T

Daydreaming

Relax and Unwind

N A P O L E O N

A Bun in the Oven (NSFW)

More Eggnog, Please (NSFW)

Midnight Tryst (NSFW)

A New Tradition (NSFW)(Napoleon x Reader x Jean)

Warmth (NSFW)

Another New Year (NSFW)

Peekaboo

Kiss the Cook (NSFW)

T H E O D O R U S

Blue Velvet (NSFW)

Theodours Fedorus (NSFW)

Longing (NSFW)

A Walk in the Park

Morning Kisses

All Night Long (NSFW)

All I Want for Christmas is You

V L A D

Under the Mistletoe (NSFW)

Dear Diary (Comte de St. German x Reader x Vlad)

Unsatiable (NSFW)

Dance with Me

I Found You

A Light in the Darkness

Cruel Summer

Winter Wonderland

[whenfrasermetbeauchamp]

I stood quite still on the threshold, blinking. My meditations on the protocol of Royal disrobing faded into sheer astonishment.

The room was quite dark, lit only by numerous tiny oil-lamps, set in groups of five in alcoves in the wall of the chamber. The room itself was round, and so was the huge table that stood in its center, the dark wood gleaming with pinpoint reflections. There were people sitting at the table, no more than hunched dark blurs against the blackness of the room.

There was a murmur at my entrance, quickly stilled at the King’s appearance. As my eyes grew more accustomed to the murk, I realized with a sense of shock that the people seated at the table wore hoods; the nearest man turned toward me, and I caught the faint gleam of eyes through holes in the velvet. It looked like a convention of hangmen.

…

“We have heard of your great skill, Madame, and your…reputation.” Louis smiled, but there was a tinge of caution in his eyes as he looked at me, as though not quite certain what I might do. “We should be most obliged, my dear Madame, should you be willing to give us the benefits of such skill this evening.”

…

“Regardez, Madame.” The King’s hand was under my elbow, directing my attention beyond the table. Now that the candle was lighted, I could see the two figures who stood silently among the flickering shadows. I started at the sight, and the King’s hand tightened on my arm.

The Comte St. Germain and Master Raymond stood there, side by side, separated by a distance of six feet or so. Raymond gave no sign of acknowledgment, but stood quietly, staring off to one side with the pupil-less black eyes of a frog in a bottomless well.

…

“These two men stand accused, Madame,” said Louis, with a gesture at Raymond and the Comte. “Of sorcery, of witchcraft, of the perversion of the legitimate search for knowledge into an exploration of arcane arts.” His voice was cold and grim. “Such practices flourished during the reign of my grandfather; but we shall not suffer such wickedness in our realm.”

…

“Extensive inquiry has been made,” the King said, turning to me. “Evidence has been presented, and the testimony of many witnesses taken. It seems clear”—he turned a cold gaze on the two accused magic—“that both men have undertaken investigations into the writings of ancient philosophers, and have employed the art of divinations, using calculation of the movements of heavenly bodies. Still…” He shrugged. “This is not of itself a crime. I am given to understand”—he glanced at a heavyset man in a hood, whom I suspected of being the Bishop of Paris—“that this is not necessarily at variance with the teachings of the Church; even the blessed St. Augustine was known to have made inquiries into the mysteries of astrology.”

I rather dimly recalled that St. Augustine had indeed looked into astrology, and had rather scornfully dismissed it as a load of rubbish. Still, I doubted that Louis had read Augustine’s Confessions, and this line of argument was undoubtedly a good one for an accused sorcerer; star-gazing seemed fairly harmless, by comparison with infant sacrifice and nameless orgies.

…

“We have brought here a witness,” he declared. “An infallible judge of truth, of purity of heart.”

I made a small, gurgling noise, which made the King turn to look at me.

“A White Lady,” he said softly. “La Dame Blanche cannot lie; she sees the heart and the soul of a man, and may turn that truth to good…or to destruction.”

The air of unreality that had hung over the evening vanished in a pop. The faint wine-buzz was gone, and I was suddenly stone-cold sober. I opened my mouth, and then shut it, realizing that there was precisely nothing I could say.

Horror snaked down my backbone and coiled in my belly as the King made his dispositions. Two pentagrams were to be drawn on the floor, within which the two sorcerers would stand. Each would then bear witness to his own activities and motives. And the White Lady would judge the truth of what was said.

“Jesus H. Christ,” I said, under my breath.

…

Everything was extremely quiet. Candle smoke hung in a pall near the gilded ceiling, wisps drifting the languid air currents. All eyes were trained on me. Finally, out of desperation, I turned to the Comte and nodded.

“You may begin, Monsieur le Comte,” I said.

He smiled—at least I assumed it was meant to be a smile—and began, starting out with an explication of the foundation of the Cabbala and moving right along to an exegesis on the twenty-three letters of the Hebrew alphabet, and the profound symbolism of it all. It sounded thoroughly scholarly, completely innocuous, and terribly dull. The King yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth.

…

“Just one minute,” I said. “All that you say so far is true, Monsieur le Comte, but I see a shadow behind your words.”

…

“This woman lies,” he said, sounding as definite as he had when informing the audience that the letter aleph was symbolic of the font of Christ’s blood. “She is no true White Lady, but the servant of Satan! In league with her master, the notorious sorcerer, du Carrefours’s apprentice!” He pointed dramatically at Raymond, who looked mildly surprised.

…

“The Holy Bible says, ‘They shall handle serpents unharmed,’ ” he thundered. “ ‘And by such signs shall ye know the servants of the true God!’ ”

…

“That is not all the Bible says, Monsieur le Comte,” Raymond observed. He didn’t raise his voice, and the wide amphibian face was bland as pudding. Still, the buzz of voices stopped, and the King turned to listen.

“Yes, Monsieur?” he said.

Raymond nodded in polite acknowledgment of having the floor, and reached into his robe with both hands. From one pocket he produced a flask, from the other a small cup.

“ ‘They shall handle serpents unharmed,’ ” he quoted, “ ‘and if they drink any deadly poison, they shall not die.’ ” He held the cup out on the palm of his hand, its silver lining gleaming in the candlelight. The flask was poised above it, ready to pour.

“Since both milady Broch Tuarach and myself have been accused,” Raymond said, with a quick glance at me, “I would suggest that all three of us partake of this test. With your permission, Your Majesty?”

Louis looked rather stunned by the rapid progress of events, but he nodded, and a thin stream of amber liquid splashed into the cup, which at once turned red and began to bubble, as though the contents were boiling.

“Dragon’s blood,” Raymond said informatively, waving at the cup. “Entirely harmless to the pure of heart.” He smiled a toothless, encouraging smile, and handed me the cup.

There didn’t seem much to do but drink it. Dragon’s blood appeared to be some form of sodium bicarbonate; it tasted like brandy with seltzer. I took two or three medium-sized swallows and handed it back.

With due ceremony, Raymond drank as well. He lowered the cup, exhibiting pink-stained lips, and turned to the King.

“If La Dame Blanche may be asked to give the cup to Monsieur le Comte?” he said. He gestured to the chalk lines at his feet, to indicate that he might not step outside the protection of the pentagram.

At the King’s nod, I took the cup and turned mechanically toward the Comte. Perhaps six feet of carpeting to cross. I took the first step, and then another, knees trembling more violently than they had in the small anteroom, alone with the King.

…

“Drink, Monsieur,” said the King. The dark eyes were hooded once more, showing nothing. “Or are you afraid?”

The Comte might have a number of things to his discredit, but cowardice wasn’t one of them. His face was pale and set, but he met the King’s eyes squarely, with a slight smile.

“No, Majesty,” he said.

He took the cup from my hand and drained it, his eyes fixed on mine. They stayed fixed, staring into my face, even as they glazed with the knowledge of death. The White Lady may turn a man’s nature to good, or to destruction.

The Comte’s body hit the floor, writhing, and a chorus of shouts and cries rose from the hooded watchers, drowning any sound he might have made. His heels drummed briefly, silent on the flowered carpet; his body arched, then subsided into limpness. The snake, thoroughly disgruntled, struggled free of the disordered folds of white satin and slithered rapidly away, heading for the sanctuary of Louis’s feet.

All was pandemonium.

— Dragonfly In Amber

Photos: outlander-online.com, Season Two, Episode Seven, May 21, 2016

Photo Edit: outlanderhomepage.com, Season Two, Episode Seven, May 21, 2016 (King Louis XV)

Gifs: headoverfeels.com, Season Two, Episode Seven, May 21, 2016 (Claire)

Gif: outlanderhomepage.com, Season Two, Episode Seven, May 21, 2016 (Comte St. Germain)

Book: Dragonfly In Amber, Diana Gabaldon, 1992

Tumblr: October 3, 2018, WhenFraserMetBeauchamp 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿❤️🇬🇧

WFMB’s Tags: #Outlander #Season Two Episode Seven #S2E7 #Faith #Dragonfly In Amber #Chapter Twenty-Six #These two men stand accused, Madame, of sorcery, of witchcraft #We have brought here a witness, an infallible judge of truth, of purity of heart #A White Lady, he said softly. La Dame Blanche cannot lie #Claire Fraser #Comte St. Germain #Master Raymond #King Louis XV #Monsieur Forez #99 #100318

[lordhelpme0-0]

THE COMTE WITH SCISSORS OF TERROR IS HERE!!! Lol! Poor Leonardo dealing with snipping Comte~!

You may know use it in any context~!

From my series of Comte helping trolling Leonardo smoking habit~!

[ikemenlibrary]

ikemen vampire gift exchange masterlist

I just wanted to thank all the participants in my event for helping me bring this idea to life. I had an absolute blast getting to know each and every one of you and I’m so happy with how the event turned out! 

(p.s. I think I've gotten everything on here, but please let me know if anything has been forgotten)

Immortelle | Comte de Saint Germain x F!Reader - by @readerinsertfanfiction for @ikemenlibrary​

In Another Life | Napoleon Bonaparte x Arthur Wellesley (Duke Wellington)  - by @readerinsertfanfiction for @batteryrose

Quiet Bliss | Leonardo x Sunny (OC) - by @batteryrose for @saeyoungs-sunflower

You Only Have To Ask | Leonardo x MC - by @saeyoungs-sunflower for @aquagirl1978

Dear Diary | Comte de St. German x Reader x Vlad - by @aquagirl1978 for @tiny-wooden-robot​​

A Vampire’s Love | Le Comte de Saint Germain x Female Reader - by @tiny-wooden-robot for @ikemenlibrary

Entre Espoire et Peur | Theodorus van Gogh x Female Reader - by @tiny-wooden-robot for @ikehoe

My Promise To You | Arthur x MC - by @ikehoe for @toloveawarlord

As Deep as the Ocean | Mozart x reader - by @toloveawarlord​ for @efie-oshita​

Ta Chérie | Ikemen Vampire MC x Comte - by @efie-oshita​ for @ikemenlibrary​

And Like a Flower, This Love Blossoms | Vlad x Anya (OC) - by @ikemenlibrary for @readerinsertfanfiction​

Escape | Comte x MC - by @nad-zeta for @ikemenlibrary

First Impressions | Theo x MC - by @nad-zeta for @dear-mrs-otome

Misunderstandings | Theo x MC - by @nad-zeta for @dear-mrs-otome

Verlangen | Theo x MC - by @nad-zeta for @dear-mrs-otome

A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing | Theo/Female MC - by @dear-mrs-otome​ for @princessranran​

Double Trouble | Comte x Leonardo x MC - by @princessranran​ for @kazesuke​

Comte/MC mutual pining Leonardo fan fiction | by @kazesuke for @chaosangel767

One More Month | MC x Comte - by @chaosangel767​ for @crystal13unny​

Charles-Henri NSFW Fanfiction - by @crystal13unny​ for @daegupaksu​

Jean art - by @daegupaksu for @weird-profiterole

Chibi Jean x MC art - by @weird-profiterole for @atelier-maroron

William Shakespapa: Family Man (Part 1) | Shakespeare x Reader - by @atelier-maroron​ for @ikesimp100​

William Shakespeare x Ihana art - by @ikesimp100 for @devildomwritersposts

Stardust & Starlight | Shakespeare x MC/Reader - by @nad-zeta​ and @readerinsertfanfiction​ for @littlewitty​

Orpheus and Eurydice | Arthur x MC - by @littlewitty for @aminiatureworld

Harmony | Mozart x MC - by @aminiatureworld​ for @bluejay-writes​

Writer’s Block | Shakespeare x Vincent - by @bluejay-writes​ for @ikeromantic​

Arpeggio | Mozart x Penélope (OC) - by @ikeromantic​ for @ifeelredandblue​

Vincent, Arthur, and Theo art - by @ifeelredandblue​ for @tacogawa​

Arthur x MC art - by @tacogawa​ for @rubird--playsotome​

Napoleon x MC art - by @rubird--playsotome for @iphigeniainaulis

How do I love you? | Napoleon x F!MC - by @iphigeniainaulis​ for @xxsycamore​

Dirty Dance For Three | Arthur x Isaac x MC - by @xxsycamore​ for @scummy-writes​

University AU | Theo x Zeta (OC) - by @scummy-writes for @nad-zeta

Something More Beautiful Than Words | Arthur x Mary Ellen (Reader) - by @ikemenlibrary for @rhodolitesroseforclavis

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 16 November 1833

8 55

12 ¾

fine morning F48 ½° at 9 am - ½ my breakfast before and ½ after M. Christiani from 10 5 to 11 5 Lesson 21 then wrote out German translation and then till 2 50 reading different articles in Hooper’s medical dictionary - dressed - off at 3 ¾ to the Bluchers’ to dinner - dinner at 4 - nobody but the family and Mr. (Roger) Ferrall - off to the play at 5 ½ - Fra Diavola [Diavolo] - the king queen and royal family there - back at the Bluchers’ at 8 55 - tea - sat talking - mentioned Christiani’s telling me this morning I should not translate vermuthen by suspect - suspect only used in English in a bad sense - Comte de B- of Xtiani’s opinion - evidently thinking therefore he knew English better than myself as in vain I assured one might equally suspect a thing good bad or indifferent - a Latin German dictionary gave suspicor as one translation of vermunthen - I see the Comte has little relish for being found in the wrong – home at 10 ¾ - sat reading Granvilles’ St. Petersburg till 12 5 fine day – F52° now at 12 10 tonight

[microcosme11]

Mes relations avec le duc de Reichstadt, par le comte de Prokesch von Osten, Anton.

I’m reading a book translated from German, haven’t yet finished it, by an Austrian statesman who met Napoleon II in Vienna. The Austrian wrote a book on Waterloo that the Duke of Reichstadt loved. At this point in the book, Marshal Marmont has also entered the scene. He is embarrassed because everyone thinks he betrayed Napoleon, causing him to abdicate the first time. Napoleon II nobly told him, ‘I only see you as my father’s oldest brother-in-arms.’ 

I didn’t know that l’Aiglon at age 19 knew all about his father and had read the St. Helena memorials by Las Cases, O’Meara, Dr. Antommarchi and Montholon so he knew that his father was thinking about him while captive there. He had read his father’s will. No one hindered him from talking about Napoleon and he was understandably obsessed with him.

The statesman and the Duke of Reichstadt were always wary of Prince Metternich who could decide whether or not they were allowed to associate.

L’Aiglon was quite ambitious and hoped to be placed on the throne of France. It was highly unlikely because of his youth, inexperience, no qualifications, no battles, and a personality unlike his father’s (i.e. he was gentle and not a control freak). Not mentioned is that if he set foot in France he would probably be assassinated.

[gypsophiaa]

click for better quality!

don’t repost! reblogs appreciated (・ωｰ)～☆

meet Stella, my Blood Donation / IkeVamp Persona! more detailed description under the cut!

she's not that different from my Cradlesona, but i did change some stuff that are half true irl to make her fit well in the ikevamp universe. i mean i wish i can speak and understand several languages so i downloaded duolingo skskskksks

go make your own Blood Donation! Here's my lil reference you can use, I added some more details to fit in the story :) also, a big thanks to @trulipan for the inspiration of using the character screen!

*disclaimer: the character screen belongs to Cybird, the character info and sprite are fan made :)

Basic Info:

Nicknames: Stella, Sol (Leonardo), Peaches (Arthur and Comte)

Birthday: October 21

Age: 25

Height: 156 cm

Nationality: Filipina

Blood Type: A

Physical:

Eyes: bluish purple

Hair: gray platinum with bluish tips, short and wavy

Accessories: golden hoop earrings, sunflower pin (a souvenir she bought before arriving to the musee)

Features: beauty mark above her left lip, a fainter mark on her right cheek

Illnesses: sleep deprived (?)

Social:

Species: Human

Previous Occupation: Graphic Designer

Occupation: Right-Hand Woman (Assistant)

Relationships:

Arthur Conan Doyle, bickering writing buddy. They often get mistaken as siblings and it peeves them both. Stella dislikes his flirty and teasing personality a lot but she’s more than willing to lend a hand if he starts to run out of ideas (which is NOT her body). He loves to tease her and get her on her toes, which resulted to Sebastian lecturing him quite often. Ironically, they’re close friends

The Count of St. Germain, father-figure. They met when she accidentally dropped her sketch notebook. He complimented how she smelled like peaches and started calling her like that (which Arthur caught wind of and started teasing her for it). He spoils Stella rotten with chocolates, satiating her sweet tooth as much as possible to keep the smile on her face.

Leonardo da Vinci, language mentor. He was impressed when she understood what he was saying in Italian. Then tested her with Latin, German and Spanish. Stella was ecstatic to learn more languages causing his sly advances go over her head (much to everyone else’s relief). She organizes his room as best as she can as thanks.

Theodorus Van Gogh, mortal enemy but not really. He would always refer to her as “Arthur’s little sister” and it would often lead them to constantly bicker. However, both of them share the addicting love for pancakes and will eat it at any time of the day, this was one of the few times where they get along very well. Other times usually involve making Vincent happy and safe. Secretly, however, they look out for each other like actual siblings.

Sebastian, meme buddy. They converse in memes, confusing everyone else, when not too busy in work. She would often ask him historical facts about the others and appreciates him going the extra stretch (she likes listening to his history fanboying). He would also save her from Arthur’s teasing and Theo’s yelling, but sometimes he just stands at the corner and listen to them go mad because he finds it amusing.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, radio (I don’t know how to call it HAHAHAHA). Stella would intentionally pass by near his room just to listen to him play the piano, reminiscing the time where she had a violin. It had always been her dream to hear a live, professional recital of one of his pieces, so hearing him composing new ones just beyond a door made her very happy. Mozart knows she’s listening.

William Shakespeare, neutral but very afraid. Stella avoids him as much as possible, his words are very confusing and deep but she tries her best to understand and remain kind.

Napoleon Bonaparte, older brother figure. He knows her unusually strong peachy scent would attract others and he dedicated himself to protect her. She's probably the most casual one to wake him up — Stella earned the free slap card when he tries to kiss her as thanks for endearing his habit.

Jean D'arc, stranger. She hopes to get to know him better. She would always see him with empty eyes and worries for him. She would often secretly pray for his happiness. Jean knows this.

Osamu Dazai, laugh pill. Though she often gets startled when he enters through windows out of nowhere, its followed by laughter she couldn't control. He likes seeing her laugh and it encourages him to never use the door (much to everyone else's dismay).

Isaac Newton, neutral. They don't speak much. Stella would smile his way whenever she sees him but often receives averting eyes in response and a mutter of hello. She would sometimes lightly hop in Arthur's teases about apples.

Vincent Van Gogh, lover. Stella admires his works since forever and to see him alive and well in person brought tears to her eyes when she realized that everything happening around her was real. Their relationship grew gradually, taking soft steps together until they realized they were in love. She would always sit near him when he's painting at the garden and play with his pet raccoon. She melts when he smiles.

Personality: Artistic and bubbly, she finds beauty in everything. Very expressive, but she keeps a facade when she's sad and it is quite difficult to pin out. She's more than willing to help anyone with whatever she can do. She is easily pleased with the simplest things and gets overwhelmed with gifts. She's usually quiet but if you spark a conversation with her it can go on for a long while, she likes to listen to stories and experiences. She loves to learn different languages and cultures. Can be smart then a dumbass the next moment. Underneath the innocent face is a sultry attitude that she's mastered to control and portray to catch people off guard — though she gets flustered easily when complimented.

Before the Visit to the Louvre: A fresh graduate from BA Multimedia Arts, she earned enough money from commissions to travel to famous museums and relax before starting her work on an international news media site.

Likes:

Chocolates

Adobong Baboy (A Filipino dish)

Pancakes

All the pets!!

Flowers!!

Dressing up!!!

Warm colors

Modern day jokes

Performing

Fruits

Dislikes:

Arthur

Skirt chasers

Being belittled

"Arthur's little sister"

Not knowing what is happening

Being stagnant (not doing anything)

Washing the dishes

Skills and Special Abilities:

Can understand several languages because of her constant travelling, speaks Spanish and Filipino very fluently.

Paints

Writes short stories

Can act like a completely different person if needed

Can go for three days without sleep or sleep for three days, no in between.

Inhales food like Kirby, her stomach has a void somewhere and she gets full very rarely.

Plays the violin (when she was a kid, very rusty today)

Paired with:  Vincent Van Gogh

Life in the Mansion: On a daily basis, she helps Sebastian in his duties. Sometimes, she can be found talking business and assessing deals with Theo. She can also be seen in her room rereading Arthur's first manuscripts and editing them. When taking a break, she's sitting by the garden and having tea with le Comte, or watching Vincent paint. She would drop by the library an hour before bed to have a quick foreign language lesson with Leonardo.

Other Info:

She sings when painting very softly, especially when its raining where the pitter patter can drown out her voice.

Cries a lot in her sleep, mostly because of overthinking. She's gotten used to a life where she would be happy for one moment and devastated the next.

She bites. Metaphorically and literally. Arthur got hurt because of it one time.

Bribed easily with sweets — to an extent. She's not that stupid.

Always screams when surprised from behind while quickly whipping around to slap whoever jumped on her. She got a terrible childhood history with those kinds of surprises.

Slaps people by accident when she gets all panicky and will constantly apologize for such a rude habit.

Secretly very horny and has earned a PhD in self control. (Really makes you think that she's actually Arthur's long lost sibling)

She can't smell her peach scent which drives her nuts. A lot of people had told her that since coming in to the mansion. She's never even had peaches before.

The scent grows stronger after sex and bathing, which she found odd because none of the products she uses has peaches as an ingredient. She even uses a different perfume every time but the peach scent still somehow overpowers it.

Vampires are the only ones who can smell the scent, human don't.

Never touch her notebook. Ever. She's insecure about whatever notes and doodles she has. She's hidden it deep in her closet that even she herself forgets.

When questioned why she "doesn't look like a Filipina," she answers with deadpan eyes and a bored look. "We were colonized by the Spaniards for 3 centuries. My grandfather is Spanish." She's tired of being asked often.

Has acted for school plays all her life.

Laughs at everything.

Cries when mad, it adds annoyance to herself.

[cromulentbookreview]

What We Do in the New Orleans Shadows

♪ Long before the Superdome / Where the saints of football play / Lived a city that the damned call home / Hear their hellish roundelay / New Orleans! Home of pirates, drunks and whores / New Orleans! Tacky, overpriced souvenir stores / / If you want to go to hell, you should take a trip / To the Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississip / New Orleans / Stinking, rotten, vomiting vile... New Orleans! / Putrid, brackish, maggoty, foul / New Orleans! ♪ 

And by that, I mean: The Beautiful by Renée Ahdieh!

My sincerest apologies to the city of New Orleans, which I hear is quite lovely. I’d like to go there someday, but only when I can be assured that I, as a female, am considered a human being with rights in the State of Louisiana. Anyway, whenever I think of New Orleans, all I can hear in my head is the song from A Streetcar Named Marge. And then I think about beignets. Mmm. And how I never learned French, instead I spent all my time learning German, which is useless, unless you’re hoping to eavesdrop on German tourists (a note to German tourists: Rede keinen Scheiß, es gibt Amerikaner die dich verstehen können. Ihr kränkte uns...)

Anyway, on to The Beautiful. 

New Orleans! 1872! The crinoline is out and bustles are in! Corsets continue to be the worst! The Gilded Age is just getting started (even though the book won’t be published for another year) and Belle Époque is big in France! Imperialism is everything! Ulysses S. Grant is drinking whiskey under his desk! Meanwhile,  seventeen-year-old Celine Rousseau has fled her life as a dressmaker at one of the finest ateliers in Paris to join a convent in New Orleans. As you do when shit happens. Luckily, Celine made a friend on the boat ride over - Pippa, another girl fleeing shitty circumstances in favor of life in a convent. Once in New Orleans, both girls are enchanted by the city, and I absolutely have to hand it to Renée Ahdieh for knowing how to capture a setting. The way she describes it, you can practically smell the city of New Orleans. Especially the food. Dear God, the food. Mmm. 

I missed ALA Annual last year when it was held in New Orleans (and by “missed” I mean “couldn’t afford to go”) and just reading this book made me kick myself for not going. 

Back to Celine, though. The whole point of going to live at the Ursuline Convent of New Orleans is for her to lay low and find herself a good husband so she can escape the aforementioned shit that went down in Paris. Pippa has the same goal, though she is way more focused on the “finding a good husband” thing than Celine is. One day, while selling bric-a-brac to raise money for the convent, a strange woman named Odette compliments Celine on her sewing skills. Once she learns that Celine is a dressmaker, Odette immediately commissions Celine to make her a dress for a masquerade ball. Because, of course, it’s Mardi Gras. In fictionland, it’s never not Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

Anyway, Odette is high up in some shady New Orleanian society called La Cour des Lions which seems to be full of hyper-beautiful people with all sorts of special skills. La Cour des Lions is led by the mysterious and largely absent Comte de Saint Germain, and is rumored to be embedded pretty deep in local politics and business. While on her way to fit Odette for her dress, Celine, accompanied by Pippa, encounters the comte’s nephew and heir, the absolutely gorgeous Sebastian St. Germain, as he mercilessly beats an unarmed man in an alleyway for reasons that are never made clear. (Seriously, we never do find out for sure why he was beating up some dude in an alley, at least, not in the ARC text). 

Also, I like to imagine that Bastian looks like Taika Waititi.

Also I’d like to imagine he has Taika Waititi’s accent. 

When Celine encounters Bastian again at Odette’s club, they quickly go from being complete strangers to head over heels in love. Because teenagers. But that’s all interrupted when Pippa stumbles upon the body of a girl drained of all her blood. Suddenly the police are involved, led by rival love interest, Michael Grimaldi, who happens to be a former childhood friend of Bastien, and thus, the future love triangle is established.

Also, if you haven’t already guessed by now (I mean, the presence of the Comte de St Germain is a pretty big hint) La Cour des Lions are vampires. Because somehow, even though New Orleans averages a total of 216 sunny days per year, vampires live there.

Maybe Laszlo is onto something, there.

Still, vampires live there, sticking to the indoors and shadows (or managing to daywalk like Colin Robinson or something. Not sure as the book does specify that sunlight does kill these vampires...).  La Cour des Lions are in a centuries long feud with something called the Brotherhood, who are....I’ll let you guess.

Did you guess?

Oh, come on.

You know. 

I’ll give you a hint.

Yes, because warewolves and vampires go together like...warewolves and vampires, honestly why not.

So we’ve got all this going down with Celine smack dab in the middle. Now there’s a serial killer on the loose and they seem to be fascinated with Celine in particular...

So! The Beautiful. It’s a return to the YA vampire genre, so...yay? I dunno, vampires just aren’t my thing. Twilight was huge when I was in high school and college and I tried reading it, but...euch. No. Honestly, outside of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the O.G. Dracula, and What We Do in the Shadows, vampire stories just don’t do anything for me. I never bought into the idea of exchanging a mortal life with sunshine and never committing murder for one in which you can never go out during the day and have to murder people for food. Plus, immortality sounds like it really sucks. Who wants to outlive their whole family? Their friends? Literally everybody you’ve ever known? Immortality means having to watch all of your pets die, over and over again, forever. Yeah, no thanks. Not to mention the fact that, after a few decades without aging, people will start to notice. “Hey, it’s been thirty years, why do you still look like you’re 18 do you have a disease or something?” 

Yeah, I’d rather have my limited time and then be reincarnated. I like that idea way better than being ageless and alive forever and ever. Didn’t any of you read Tuck Everlasting? Winnie made the right choice, you guys.

So while the setting and the writing for The Beautiful are fantastic, as soon as the story brought vampires in, my brain just switched into “eeeehhh” mode. I also have a hard time with romances where the two love interests go from “hey person I just met” to “I love you and will die for you” very quickly. Again, not really my thing. Most of the problems I had with this book just stemmed from my own biases. YA Vampire romances just aren’t my thing. What We Do in the Shadows (movie and TV series!) is more my thing. 

HOWEVER.

Just because something is not my thing, doesn’t mean it’s not your thing. If YA paranormal romances featuring vampires and warewolves running around late 19th century New Orleans sounds like your jam, then in all likelihood, you will really love The Beautiful and I recommend you go and get it when it comes out. Remember: I’m just an idiot with a tumblr account, just because I’m meh on a certain book doesn’t mean it won’t be your new favorite thing ever. I’ll admit, if Renée Ahdieh wrote a New Orleans travel guide, I’d read it in a heartbeat because holy shit she knows how to transport you to a time and place. 

Have at it, YA Paranormal Vampire Romance fans. I’ll be over here, watching What We do in the Shadows. 

RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone fond of YA Paranormal Vampire Romances (see above), fans of historical fiction, anyone looking for something cool set in New Orleans

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Anybody not fond of YA Paranormal Vampire Romances.

RELEASE DATE: October 8, 2019

RATING: 3/5

VAMPIRE RATING:

[erikacousland]

Wallace Collection Online - The Collection | Result

Serving knife

Hans Sumersperger

Tyrol

Date:c. 1500

Medium:Iron or steel, copper alloy, antler, rosewood and gold, blued and engraved

Length:32.7 cm, blade

Width:5 cm, at shoulder

Width:5.8 cm, at widest part

Weight:0.76 kg

Inv:A883

*

Description

Serving knife, with a handle of flattened octagonal section, heavily mounted with brass and inlaid with panels of polished antler; engraved along the back strip: BON · FRED · VM · DICH ('Good peace [cheer] about thee') Arch-shaped pommel with short beak; grip inlaid with strips of polished antler and rosewood, and four ivory panels, carved in low relief, representing St. Barbara (?) and other saints the forward end of the brass hilt is extended at right-angles to support the blade; heavy broad blade, single-edged and straight-backed. It is decorated with a band of Goldschmelz along the hollow, bordering the back edge, and is stamped with a maker's mark in the form of an arrow. Tyrolese, made by Hans Sumersperger, c. 1500. Bailey, Knives and Forks, fig. 6 (2); Hayward, 'Early German cutlery' Apollo Annual, 1949, pp. 60-3, fig. Ill a, but with the caption interchanged with fig. Ill b. Provenance: Joyeau (?) (Un couteau d' écuyer trachant, du XVième siècle, 520 fr. [with un socle reliquaire]; receipted bill, 19 November, 1865); Comte de Nieuwerkerke. A like knife, bearing the same mark, is in the Metropolitan Museum, New York (De Cosson, Dino Collection, pl. 17, G45). This knife belongs to a group which Dr. Bruno Thomas has identified with Hans Sumersperger of Hall, near Innsbruck, who worked for the Emperor Maximilian I (1459-1519) and made his State sword, now in Vienna (Met. Mus. Bulletin, New York, February, 1955). The State Sword (das Lehnenschwert) of Maximilian I in the Imperial Treasury at Vienna (inv. no. XIV.4) is dated 1496 and signed 'Hanns von Hall'. B. Thomas (Waffen- und Kostümkunde, 1963, pp. 41-62) lists a number of additional weapons attributed to Hans Sumersperger of Hall, which do not include the knives and their présentoir in the Museo Correr, Venice. They include the so-called 'Hunting Sword' of Maximilian I in Vienna (inv. no. D11); a hand-and-half sword in the Badisches Landesmuseum, Karlsruhe, (no. G58); a 'Landsknecht' sword formerly at Karlsruhe (no. G59); the ceremonial sword of Hans Siebenhirter as Master of the Order of St. George, dated 1499 (Landesmuseum für Karnten, Klagenfurt); a two-handed sword formerly at Ambras, now in the Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich (no. W872); a ceremonial sword in the National Museum, Copenhagen (no. 4580; Thomas, Vaabenhistoriske Aarbøger, 6 b-c, 1950/1, pp. 105-84); a sword-blade in the Bargello, Florence (Thomas and Boccia, Österreichische Florenzhilfe, Historische Prunkwaffen, 1970, p. 48, pI. 6); a knife blade in the collection of John Hunt, found in the Thames, which Thomas suggests might have been a present to Henry VIII from Maximilian I; and a five-piece table garniture in its case, at Stift Kremsmünster, Upper Austria.

*

Marks/Inscriptions

Inscription: 'BON · FRED · VM · DICH' Maker's mark: Form of an arrow Stamped

[birdshirt1-blog]

extra-billowy dutch baby pancake

[Welcome back to ✨ Newer, Better Month ✨ on Smitten Kitchen, when I get update a few SK classics with new knowledge, new techniques, and with real-life time constraints in mind. Previously: Perfect Spaghetti and Meatballs and Extra-Flaky Pie Crust.]

Sometimes “newer, betters” emerge because the original recipe wasn’t as good as it could be. But most of them — like this — come from real life. Like, when you’re really tired on a Saturday morning and you look at a recipe that you swore by at some time in your life when nobody dragged you out of bed at 7am on a Saturday [and then, instead of handing you a cup of coffee for your troubles, as you’d once daydreamed they’d be trained to do by now, demanded pancakes] and say “WHUT.” A blender? No, I am definitely not getting the blender out right now. Wait, why am I turning on the stove and the oven? Do I really need this much butter? Why are there lumps in the batter? Why isn’t this as puffy as I thought it would be? Can I go back to bed yet? I mean, just for a random example that’s definitely not going down in my kitchen as we speak.

In the early days of this site, I told you about what my mom’s 1970s blender recipe insert called German Pancakes, confusing many German friends and readers, who had never heard of them. We better know these as Dutch babies — equally confusing, and said to have been coined by a corruption of the German deutsch — or David Eyre’s Pancakes, but they’re closer to popovers or Yorkshire puddings than anything else in batter. Because dramatic, rumpled crepe-like pancakes will always be more exciting than undramatic, unrumpled crepes, I’ve made a lot of versions over the years: buckwheat, cherry-almond and chocolate on the site; gingerbread (in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook) and a parmesan dutch baby with creamed mushrooms (in Smitten Kitchen Every Day). It was when I was working on the chocolate Dutch baby that took a closer look at dutch baby formulas I’d been using and found through trial but mostly error one that I preferred.

I found that an eggier batter led to a more billowy pancake. I found a little less flour and milk also increased rumples. I found that by adding the flour first, a lumpy batter was fully avoidable. I also realized that a lot of what makes a Dutch baby “work” — i.e. have a dramatic and Instagram-worthy finish — making sure you have the right amount of batter for you pan and, often, cooking it a minute or two further than merely cooked through. An extra couple minutes helps the shape of the waves set, and provides a nice crispy edge underneath.

On sleepy Saturday mornings, I did away with the blender and sometimes even the whisk, the stove, and even the requirement of an ovenproof skillet. I also realized that you don’t even need to choose a sweet vs. savory angle (read: break up any arguments from children who didn’t agree on flavors) before you bake the pancake. You can shower it with anything you choose after it exits the oven — sugar, lemon, fruit, or chocolate for sweet tooths; cheese, herbs, sauteed vegetables, and/or ham or bacon for savory cravings. You could make it right now; believe me, I already am.

Previously

One year ago: Melting Potatoes Two years ago: Easiest French Fries and Peanut Butter Swirled Brownies Three years ago: Nolita-Style Avocado Toast and Chocolate Peanut Butter Tart Four years ago: Black-Bottom Oatmeal Pie and Potatoes with Soft Eggs and Bacon Vinaigrette Five years ago: Double-Chocolate Banana Bread and Sizzling Chicken Fajitas Six years ago: Coconut Bread and Chocolate-Hazelnut Macaroon Torte Seven years ago: Carrot Cake Pancakes Eight years ago: Oat and Maple Syrup Scones Nine years ago: Baked Rigatoni with Tiny Meatballs, St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake, Breakfast Pizza Ten years ago: Pita Bread, Layer Cake Tips + The Biggest Birthday Cake, Yet and Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Cornbread Eleven years ago: Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake, Chard and White Bean Stew, Pasta with Cauliflower, Walnuts, and Feta Twelve years ago: Skillet Irish Soda Bread and Lighter-Than-Air Chocolate Cake

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Breakfast Burritos 1.5 Years Ago: Pizza Beans 2.5 Years Ago: Piri Piri Chicken and Chocolate Pavlova 3.5 Years Ago: Oat and Wheat Sandwich Bread 4.5 Years Ago: Herbed Tomato and Roasted Garlic Tart and Cauliflower Slaw

Extra-Billowy Dutch Baby Pancake

Servings: 2 to 4

Time: 30 minutes

Source: Smitten Kitchen

Print

The two key things to keep in mind when aiming for Peak Billows in your puffy oven pancake are 1. Baking it long enough that the center sets too, getting a chance to slightly rumple, although it may not always. This usually involves setting the timer for the suggested time and checking back every 1 to 2 minutes after until it’s just right. 2. Having the right size pan for the batter yield. If there’s too little, the pancake will not have the same dramatic heights. The yield here is intended for one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes, or even a 9×13-inch pan. If you pan is smaller, simply scale the recipe down. For the 2-quart oval casserole dish shown up top, I used 3/4 of this batter, i.e. 3 eggs, 6 tablespoons each flour and milk. Finally, I know people often balk at the amount of butter, and this uses less than some recipes, but it’s essential that there’s enough in the pan that the pancake can slide around and rumple over it; if there’s any even slight sticking, it will not.

2 to 3 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 large eggs

1/2 cup (65 grams) all-purpose flour

1/2 cup milk (ideally whole milk but most varieties will work)

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

If savory: Freshly ground black pepper, wilted spinach or sauteed greens, bacon or ham cheese, herbs or comte, herbs (shown here with ham, gruyere, and chives)

If sweet: Powdered sugar, lemon juice, syrup, fresh berries, shaved chocolate or chocolate sauce

1 tablespoon sugar both optional)

Heat oven to 425 degrees F with one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes inside.

In a large bowl, beat eggs thoroughly with a whisk or fork. Add salt and flour, whisk until lumps disappear. Add milk, whisking until smooth. If you know you’d like your pancake to end up sweet, you can add 1 tablespoon granulated sugar to the batter; if you know you’d like it to be savory, you can add freshly ground black pepper. But, you can also choose your own adventure when it comes out.

When oven and baking vessel are fully heated, wearing potholders, carefully remove skillet(s) or baking dish(es) from the oven. Melt butter inside and roll it around so it goes up the sides, too. If using one large dish, two-ish tablespoons is often sufficient; it’s best to use three tablespoons between two dishes, however.

Pour batter into buttered dish(es) and return it to the oven. Bake for 12 to 13 minutes to start, and then in additional 1 to 2 minute increments until the edges are deeply golden brown and the centers are just beginning to color. Have your finishes ready to go. Transfer to a cooling back or trivet. I finish sweet pancakes with lemon juice and a good coating of powdered sugar, and savory pancakes with grated cheese, vegetables and/or ham or bacon, and fresh herbs. Eat immediately; these pancakes are best hot from the oven.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2019/03/extra-billowy-dutch-baby-pancake/

[guideseeder67-blog]

extra-billowy dutch baby pancake

[Welcome back to ✨ Newer, Better Month ✨ on Smitten Kitchen, when I get update a few SK classics with new knowledge, new techniques, and with real-life time constraints in mind. Previously: Perfect Spaghetti and Meatballs and Extra-Flaky Pie Crust.]

Sometimes “newer, betters” emerge because the original recipe wasn’t as good as it could be. But most of them — like this — come from real life. Like, when you’re really tired on a Saturday morning and you look at a recipe that you swore by at some time in your life when nobody dragged you out of bed at 7am on a Saturday [and then, instead of handing you a cup of coffee for your troubles, as you’d once daydreamed they’d be trained to do by now, demanded pancakes] and say “WHUT.” A blender? No, I am definitely not getting the blender out right now. Wait, why am I turning on the stove and the oven? Do I really need this much butter? Why are there lumps in the batter? Why isn’t this as puffy as I thought it would be? Can I go back to bed yet? I mean, just for a random example that’s definitely not going down in my kitchen as we speak.

In the early days of this site, I told you about what my mom’s 1970s blender recipe insert called German Pancakes, confusing many German friends and readers, who had never heard of them. We better know these as Dutch babies — equally confusing, and said to have been coined by a corruption of the German deutsch — or David Eyre’s Pancakes, but they’re closer to popovers or Yorkshire puddings than anything else in batter. Because dramatic, rumpled crepe-like pancakes will always be more exciting than undramatic, unrumpled crepes, I’ve made a lot of versions over the years: buckwheat, cherry-almond and chocolate on the site; gingerbread (in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook) and a parmesan dutch baby with creamed mushrooms (in Smitten Kitchen Every Day). It was when I was working on the chocolate Dutch baby that took a closer look at dutch baby formulas I’d been using and found through trial but mostly error one that I preferred.

I found that an eggier batter led to a more billowy pancake. I found a little less flour and milk also increased rumples. I found that by adding the flour first, a lumpy batter was fully avoidable. I also realized that a lot of what makes a Dutch baby “work” — i.e. have a dramatic and Instagram-worthy finish — making sure you have the right amount of batter for you pan and, often, cooking it a minute or two further than merely cooked through. An extra couple minutes helps the shape of the waves set, and provides a nice crispy edge underneath.

On sleepy Saturday mornings, I did away with the blender and sometimes even the whisk, the stove, and even the requirement of an ovenproof skillet. I also realized that you don’t even need to choose a sweet vs. savory angle (read: break up any arguments from children who didn’t agree on flavors) before you bake the pancake. You can shower it with anything you choose after it exits the oven — sugar, lemon, fruit, or chocolate for sweet tooths; cheese, herbs, sauteed vegetables, and/or ham or bacon for savory cravings. You could make it right now; believe me, I already am.

Previously

One year ago: Melting Potatoes Two years ago: Easiest French Fries and Peanut Butter Swirled Brownies Three years ago: Nolita-Style Avocado Toast and Chocolate Peanut Butter Tart Four years ago: Black-Bottom Oatmeal Pie and Potatoes with Soft Eggs and Bacon Vinaigrette Five years ago: Double-Chocolate Banana Bread and Sizzling Chicken Fajitas Six years ago: Coconut Bread and Chocolate-Hazelnut Macaroon Torte Seven years ago: Carrot Cake Pancakes Eight years ago: Oat and Maple Syrup Scones Nine years ago: Baked Rigatoni with Tiny Meatballs, St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake, Breakfast Pizza Ten years ago: Pita Bread, Layer Cake Tips + The Biggest Birthday Cake, Yet and Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Cornbread Eleven years ago: Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake, Chard and White Bean Stew, Pasta with Cauliflower, Walnuts, and Feta Twelve years ago: Skillet Irish Soda Bread and Lighter-Than-Air Chocolate Cake

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Breakfast Burritos 1.5 Years Ago: Pizza Beans 2.5 Years Ago: Piri Piri Chicken and Chocolate Pavlova 3.5 Years Ago: Oat and Wheat Sandwich Bread 4.5 Years Ago: Herbed Tomato and Roasted Garlic Tart and Cauliflower Slaw

Extra-Billowy Dutch Baby Pancake

Servings: 2 to 4

Time: 30 minutes

Source: Smitten Kitchen

Print

The two key things to keep in mind when aiming for Peak Billows in your puffy oven pancake are 1. Baking it long enough that the center sets too, getting a chance to slightly rumple, although it may not always. This usually involves setting the timer for the suggested time and checking back every 1 to 2 minutes after until it’s just right. 2. Having the right size pan for the batter yield. If there’s too little, the pancake will not have the same dramatic heights. The yield here is intended for one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes, or even a 9×13-inch pan. If you pan is smaller, simply scale the recipe down. For the 2-quart oval casserole dish shown up top, I used 3/4 of this batter, i.e. 3 eggs, 6 tablespoons each flour and milk. Finally, I know people often balk at the amount of butter, and this uses less than some recipes, but it’s essential that there’s enough in the pan that the pancake can slide around and rumple over it; if there’s any even slight sticking, it will not.

2 to 3 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 large eggs

1/2 cup (65 grams) all-purpose flour

1/2 cup milk (ideally whole milk but most varieties will work)

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

If savory: Freshly ground black pepper, wilted spinach or sauteed greens, bacon or ham cheese, herbs or comte, herbs (shown here with ham, gruyere, and chives)

If sweet: Powdered sugar, lemon juice, syrup, fresh berries, shaved chocolate or chocolate sauce

1 tablespoon sugar both optional)

Heat oven to 425 degrees F with one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes inside.

In a large bowl, beat eggs thoroughly with a whisk or fork. Add salt and flour, whisk until lumps disappear. Add milk, whisking until smooth. If you know you’d like your pancake to end up sweet, you can add 1 tablespoon granulated sugar to the batter; if you know you’d like it to be savory, you can add freshly ground black pepper. But, you can also choose your own adventure when it comes out.

When oven and baking vessel are fully heated, wearing potholders, carefully remove skillet(s) or baking dish(es) from the oven. Melt butter inside and roll it around so it goes up the sides, too. If using one large dish, two-ish tablespoons is often sufficient; it’s best to use three tablespoons between two dishes, however.

Pour batter into buttered dish(es) and return it to the oven. Bake for 12 to 13 minutes to start, and then in additional 1 to 2 minute increments until the edges are deeply golden brown and the centers are just beginning to color. Have your finishes ready to go. Transfer to a cooling back or trivet. I finish sweet pancakes with lemon juice and a good coating of powdered sugar, and savory pancakes with grated cheese, vegetables and/or ham or bacon, and fresh herbs. Eat immediately; these pancakes are best hot from the oven.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2019/03/extra-billowy-dutch-baby-pancake/

[aquagirl1978]

Dear Diary - Comte de St. Germain x Reader x Vlad (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: This is my gift to @tiny-wooden-robot in the Ikevamp Gift Exchange - I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to @ikemenlibrary for organizing the fun event!

Pairing: Comte de St. German x Reader x Vlad

Prompt: angsty love triangle

Warnings: angst, Comte's real name, a little bit spicy towards the end

Dear Diary,

Earlier today, I ran into my friend with the flower cart. His name is Vlad. He seems so kind and sweet, and he has the gentlest smile...

“Hello again!” a familiar voice called out.

It was a beautiful sunny day; you were so distracted looking at all the pretty flowers in bloom that you almost didn’t notice your new friend standing in his usual spot with his colorful cart filled with flowers.

“Vlad!” A genuine smile spread on your lips upon recognizing him. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” His gaze flicked downwards to the flowers on his cart, clearly searching for one in particular. “Ah, for you,” he announced, proudly producing a single stem bearing a creamy yellow rose. He trimmed its end, and tucked it behind your ear, his fingers gently brushing your hair, barely ghosting your skin.

“There,” he said quietly as he stepped back, smiling proudly. “It’s perfect. Matches the yellow in your shirt. Though, it’s nowhere near as lovely as you are.”

You returned his smile; an unfamiliar heat uncurling in your belly. He’s just a friend, you reminded yourself. Who happened to give you flowers each time he saw you? Who also happened to pay you nice compliments.

What if I’d like him to be more than just a friend?

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I have another ball to attend with Comte – as his partner, of course. I know it’s likely not possible, but part of me wishes Vlad would be at the ball. I know he’s just a man who owns a flower cart, but the more time I spend with him, the more I want to be around him.

“Ma cherie, what’s troubling you?” Comte asked while offering you a glass of champagne.

“Thank you,” you replied, accepting the drink. You took a sip, and sighed while your gaze was fixed on the crowds of people dancing. A small part of you searching, hoping to see a certain white head of hair floating amongst them.

He took your hand in his, forcing you to acknowledge him. “Is this because I told you...”

“No,” you interrupted him before he could finish. You couldn’t bear to hear him say those words again – I'll never fall in love again. Especially not with a human. Forget these feelings now. Gazing into those deep pools of amber gold, a warmth you wish you could get lost in, but you won’t. You can’t. Swallowing those feelings, pushing them away just as he had asked you to, you feigned a quick laugh. “It’s my shoes. They’re new and they’re hurting my feet.”

He smiled, somewhat relieved. “Is that all? Let’s go sit down so you can rest.”

You weren’t positive but you felt a flicker of sadness or maybe disappointment flashed through his eyes.

Dear Diary,

I think I am falling for Vlad... I am finding more and more reasons to volunteer for shopping trips, looking for various excuses as to why I need to leave the mansion.

Why couldn’t Comte talk to me like Vlad does? Touch me like he does?

“A flower for the lady.”

Vlad presented you this time with a long-stemmed pink rose. Bringing it to your nose, you savored its sweet scent. He smiled at you gently. “The rose matches the blush on your cheeks.”

Averting your gaze, something stirred inside, tugging at your heart. While your frustration at Comte remained, you could feel it softening, melting like the last of winter’s snow, spring’s flowers ready to fill its space.

With his thumb under your chin, Vlad tilted your face up to meet his. “Why do you look so troubled?”

“It’s a long story,” you stammered. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Am I not your friend? Come,” he offered his elbow to you. “Let’s go sit over there.”

It would feel good to get some of this frustration off your chest, you admitted to yourself. Maybe not the best thing to discuss with a man you might have feelings for, but, as you gazed into Vlad’s crimson eyes... he was such a gentle soul. It couldn’t hurt to open up to him.

And open up you did.

As soon as you reached the park bench, you spilled everything – ok, maybe not everything. You kept the fact that you were from a different time hidden. As well as the fact that the residents of the mansion were all vampires. But the parties, the shopping trips, the dances – oh, the dances, especially that last dance – were all shared.

“He’s a fool,” Vlad murmured softly. “Does he have no idea of the treasure that lies before him?”

“I know. You should join me for dinner one night.”

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow, I'm meeting Vlad for dinner. I haven’t been this excited in some time...

There was a knock at your door.

You were seated at your vanity table, fussing with your hair, trying to decide how to style it for your... What exactly was tomorrow night, a date?

A flaxen haired head appeared through a crack in the door. “Ma cherie, do you have a moment?”

You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips. It had been some time since Comte had visited you like this.

He stood awkwardly while you remained seated. Looking up at him, his expression was unreadable.

"There’s a ball tomorrow night. I know it’s short notice, but...” His honey eyes glanced down at you; a familiar warmth dared to uncurl itself in your belly. “I was hoping you could join me?”

Sighing deeply, you wrung your hands in your lap. “I’m sorry, but I already made plans for tomorrow.”

“So, the rumors are true,” he asked, a hint of disappointment dripping from his voice.

Returning your gaze to the vanity mirror, you adjusted the clip in your hair.

“Yes,” you replied plainly.

“I see.” His hands hovered over your shoulders; his touch never coming though. Instead, they fell to fists at his sides.

“I hope he knows what a treasure you are,” he whispered before escorting himself from your room, his parting words haunting you.

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I am meeting Vlad for dinner at his house. I haven’t been this nervous or excited in so long.

The carriage Vlad had sent for you dropped you off at a castle – your breath suspended for a moment in awe, you felt as if you had stepped through the pages of a fairy tale.

You popped your head quickly back in the carriage. “Are you sure – ?”

The driver nodded. “Absolutely sure. This is where they told me to bring you.” And with that, he snapped the reigns and was off; all that remained was a cloud of dust in front of you.

“They?” You sighed, looking up at the imposing castle once more before glancing around the front where two figures stood in the shadows.

“You made it!” one said cheerfully, a bright smile adorned his pretty face.

There was a stern man next to him, a grimace graced his face. “Don’t mind him,” he said curtly. “You’ll find him in the garden that way.” He pointed to a gate; its arbor covered in dozens of red climbing roses.

You nodded your thanks to them, and proceeded to open the gate. On the other side was the most magnificent flower garden you had ever seen. In the middle of the garden was a man dressed in a regal black, cloak billowing behind him, his back facing you. The head of snow-white hair was unmistakable though.

“Vlad?” Your voice was a low whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace that surrounded this flower sanctuary.

He turned around slowly, that familiar, tender smile on his lips. You gasped; you were so used to seeing Vlad dressed in a plain shirt and apron, he was almost unrecognizable in this fancy garb. He looked so different; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a prince.

He took your hands in his, his gentle eyes gazing at you and only you. “I am so glad you came tonight.”

You returned his smile, admiring how the moonlight lit up his face. Much of your nervousness gone, your body relaxed, a welcomed warmth filled your body.

He brought his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks. “

His words filled you with a warmth you didn’t know was possible.

Embraced under the moonlight, Vlad dipped his head, his lips brushing against yours. He tasted sweet, like strawberries. A soft sigh fell from your lips as his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue entrance into your warm mouth.

Trembling, he soon broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, cradling the back of your head, gently stroking your hair.

“You are the most beautiful flower that ever drifted onto my path.”

You smiled at his words, a small part of you wondering if he was the most beautiful flower in your path.

Dear Diary,

Comte has been distant ever since our discussion the night before my date with Vlad. He was a gentleman, and politely asked how my evening went, but refrained from asking for any details. I can’t help but feel a slight chill whenever he is around. And despite that, I also cannot help noticing his eyes lingering on me, especially when he thinks I am not looking.

“I hate to ask, but I was hoping you could go to the market alone today. I have some things here that I need to attend to.”

“Of course, Sebas. I can manage on my own.” You took the list of items needed from his hand; a thankful smile spread on his lips.

“You’ll find the carriage ready for you out front.”

Grabbing your bag, you skipped off, your mind wandering to Vlad – maybe he will be out with his flower cart today. Humming to yourself, you were distracted with your thoughts so much that you didn’t see the man standing by the carriage.

“Waaaah!” you yelped when you bumped into the familiar figure. “I’m so sorry, Comte. I wasn’t expecting to see you, or much less anyone else out here now.”

“My apologies, ma cherie. I hope you don’t mind, but Sebas told me you’d be traveling alone today, and I was wondering if we could go together?” A glimmer of hope flashed in his golden gaze as he held his hand out to yours.

“I would like that, thank you.” Your hopes of seeing Vlad now dashed – how could you wander off to meet him with Comte in tow? – you took his hand as he helped you step into the carriage.

Thankful the ride was short and not completely awkward, you arrived at your destination sooner than you expected. Wandering through the stalls, you had one eye on the lookout for Vlad – that would be the only thing that could make this excursion any more awkward.

“Ma cherie, have you seen such beautiful flowers?”

Your body filled with dread as you turned, and found Comte standing before an empty but familiar flower cart. Your legs moved slowly, as if encased in concrete. Of all the flower carts to be out today...

You quickly glanced around the vicinity – no sign of Vlad, so that was a good thing.

Or so you thought.

“Hello, Abel,” a familiar voice called out.

Who’s Abel?

You spun around and glanced at Comte, a rare anger flashing in his narrowed eyes.

“Vlad.” His voice was controlled, but laced with ice; a chill filled you to your bones.

“Isn’t this awkward,” Vlad said as his eyes met yours, that gentle smile you’ve come to love still on his lips as he pieced together that you and Comte – or rather, Abel – were shopping together. Vlad turned to his flower card, humming softly as he selected a flower. “For the lady.” In his hand was a long-stemmed red rose.

You accepted the flower, not entirely sure what to do in this situation, as Comte glared daggers at the delicate bloom. Glancing between the two men, you chewed on your lower lip as you twirled the rose in your fingers.

Comte stretched his arm out in front of you, protecting you. “What do you want, Vlad?” Vlad simply stood there, staring into your eyes, smiling softly at you. Comte turned to you.

“Ma cherie.” His eyes met yours; there was an unmistakable waver in his voice. “How do you know him?”

Vlad chuckled. “We’re friends. She came to my home the other night for dinner.”

“That’s where you went the other evening....” The look Comte gave you tugged at you deeply – he wasn’t mad at you, he was heartbroken. You sighed loudly, wishing you could be anywhere else but here.

“She’s one of my residents, Vlad.”

“I know,” Vlad replied. You blinked; a chill crawled down your spine, your head felt dizzy. How, when did he know?

“Stay away, Vlad.” Comte’s voice was a low growl; you had never before heard him speak to anyone like this before. Not only did it make you jump in your spot, an unexpected warmth flooded your heart.

“She can make up her own mind, Abel.”

You looked to each man, your fingers still clutching the rose.

“Ma cherie?” Comte’s hand is outstretched, his golden eyes warm and welcoming, inviting you to come by his side.

Vlad’s hand was also outstretched. His gentle, tender smile beckoning you to be with him.

You closed your eyes tightly, your heart screaming one name. The answer was clear, and it brought a happy tear to your eye.

Dear Diary,

I love him. I love him so much.

The morning sun poured in through the windows, birds sang their sweet morning melodies, and you woke up in the bed of your lover, warm and embraced in his arms.

“Good morning,” you whispered, your voice still sleepy. Leaning over to give him a kiss, he tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you closer.

“Mhmmm,” he hummed. “Good morning, ma cherie. What do you want to do today?”

“Can we just lay here all day?”

He kissed the crown of your head and pulled you closer in his embrace. “Anything you want.”

You nuzzled into his chest, unable to remember the last time you felt this completely happy.

[talen77703]

Copyright semicasual

Real-deal Men In Black. Nothing to see here, move along.

Summary If the Sleepers were based in the USA, had a larger budget, and intimidating black suits, they'd be the UIB. The Unusual Incidents Bureau is a secret government organization with one goal: to make sure that the occult underground never goes public or does anything else to threaten the peace. No unearthly forces will ever threaten Uncle Sam while the UIB is on watch. History In the early 1940's, when the States was just starting to enter into the war against the Axis powers, Allied intelligence began to find more and more reports of Hitler's interest in the occult, suggesting that some secretive group of people with supernatural powers were supporting the Third Reich. Of course, conventional wisdom in the European occult underground today is that several of the top members of the Nazi party (people disagree on who, but Himmler is usually at the top of the list) were actually phobomancers, but at the time, no one really knew for sure what Jerry's deal was, and so the secret services of Britain and the USA decided to form a special group whose sole purpose was to investigate the supposed supernatural abilities of the German forces and find a way to counter them. The reason why you won't find this in any history book is party for reasons of national security, but mostly because the unofficial committee ultimately didn't help much with the war. The old underground truism that a knife in the heart works as well on an adept as it does on a normal person (usually) applies just as well to bullets, and the combined armies of the allies were more than enough to smash the German army and kill off most of their phobomancer support in the process. Mostly what the committee did was flail around trying to figure out how magick worked, with only the faintest clue what they were doing, and didn't have a concrete idea of what adept magick was or how to counter it until October of 1944, by which time their ability to contribute was fairly negligible. The head of the committee was a man named Edward Calvert. Calvert was a charismatic, driven man whose experiences with the occult during the war were unquestionably life-changing. He'd seen crazy people do terrible things to eachother for the sake of sanity-shattering power, and though he could do little himself to stop the Reich, his growing awareness of the supernatural prompted him to ask President Truman for permission to start his own, super-secret department: the Unusual Incidents Bureau. Initially, the stated mission the Bureau was to prevent Communist subversion via witchcraft, but later on their mission expanded to its current state. Calvert and his crack team of experienced field agents were quite skilled and rooting out and killing magick-users in their day, but the occult underground isn't something that can be easily contained. After decades of trying and failing to stomp out occultism in the USA for good (and accidentally starting a lot of urban myths in the process), Calvert decided that the Bureau's real goal should be to keep a lid on the underground, and study the nature of magick until they could find a way to finish it. Privately, Calvert has a goal of his own, one that he formed in the 1970's after a chance encounter with the Comte St. Germain: to foil the ascension of Invisible Clergy members in the hopes of stopping the world from being destroyed/recreated. Calvert's understanding of the Statosphere is fairly limited, but he sincerely believes that humanity hasn't developed to the point where they can be entrusted with making a new universe. Nowadays, the Bureau does the work the Sleepers wish they could do: hunt down and kill troublemaking adepts with impunity, and then blame and public fuss on swamp gas, or whatever. Of course, undergrounders will tell you that, often as not, they'll capture magickers or unnatural creatures alive to dissect them in a lab somewhere. Only the Bureau could tell you for sure, and they tend to respond negatively to close questioning. Resources It's a small group: somewhere between 60-80 members, mostly working out of an undisclosed location on the East Coast. They do, however, have a federal budget that they spend on military-grade weapons and surveillance gear. They recruit people by singling out anyone who tries to go public with any discoveries of an occult underground: if they're not completely crazy (and not adepts or avatars themselves), and they're willing to keep quiet in exchange for a decent federal salary, they receive some basic training and get set to save the world for supernatural threats. As such, their members tend to balance open-mindedness with mental stability, a winning combination in the underground, and they're always well-equipped. Plus, the Bureau has gotten very adept at pretending to be FBI or CIA and using illusory authority to shanghai local authorities into helping them find things and cover things up. They've also got a sizeable and ever-growing collection of occult lore. They take a decidedly empiricist approach to understanding the supernatural, which isn't always practical, but at least their library is better-organized than most. Last but not least, they've got Ed Calvert. The man is over 100 now, but still manages to keep the bureau running from behind his desk and several people who present themselves as the Director of the bureau in public. His body is withered, but his mind is sharp, and his force of will has kept him alive and active long past his sell-by date.

[riskcause9-blog]

extra-billowy dutch baby pancake

[Welcome back to ✨ Newer, Better Month ✨ on Smitten Kitchen, when I get update a few SK classics with new knowledge, new techniques, and with real-life time constraints in mind. Previously: Perfect Spaghetti and Meatballs and Extra-Flaky Pie Crust.]

Sometimes “newer, betters” emerge because the original recipe wasn’t as good as it could be. But most of them — like this — come from real life. Like, when you’re really tired on a Saturday morning and you look at a recipe that you swore by at some time in your life when nobody dragged you out of bed at 7am on a Saturday [and then, instead of handing you a cup of coffee for your troubles, as you’d once daydreamed they’d be trained to do by now, demanded pancakes] and say “WHUT.” A blender? No, I am definitely not getting the blender out right now. Wait, why am I turning on the stove and the oven? Do I really need this much butter? Why are there lumps in the batter? Why isn’t this as puffy as I thought it would be? Can I go back to bed yet? I mean, just for a random example that’s definitely not going down in my kitchen as we speak.

In the early days of this site, I told you about what my mom’s 1970s blender recipe insert called German Pancakes, confusing many German friends and readers, who had never heard of them. We better know these as Dutch babies — equally confusing, and said to have been coined by a corruption of the German deutsch — or David Eyre’s Pancakes, but they’re closer to popovers or Yorkshire puddings than anything else in batter. Because dramatic, rumpled crepe-like pancakes will always be more exciting than undramatic, unrumpled crepes, I’ve made a lot of versions over the years: buckwheat, cherry-almond and chocolate on the site; gingerbread (in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook) and a parmesan dutch baby with creamed mushrooms (in Smitten Kitchen Every Day). It was when I was working on the chocolate Dutch baby that took a closer look at dutch baby formulas I’d been using and found through trial but mostly error one that I preferred.

I found that an eggier batter led to a more billowy pancake. I found a little less flour and milk also increased rumples. I found that by adding the flour first, a lumpy batter was fully avoidable. I also realized that a lot of what makes a Dutch baby “work” — i.e. have a dramatic and Instagram-worthy finish — making sure you have the right amount of batter for you pan and, often, cooking it a minute or two further than merely cooked through. An extra couple minutes helps the shape of the waves set, and provides a nice crispy edge underneath.

On sleepy Saturday mornings, I did away with the blender and sometimes even the whisk, the stove, and even the requirement of an ovenproof skillet. I also realized that you don’t even need to choose a sweet vs. savory angle (read: break up any arguments from children who didn’t agree on flavors) before you bake the pancake. You can shower it with anything you choose after it exits the oven — sugar, lemon, fruit, or chocolate for sweet tooths; cheese, herbs, sauteed vegetables, and/or ham or bacon for savory cravings. You could make it right now; believe me, I already am.

Previously

One year ago: Melting Potatoes Two years ago: Easiest French Fries and Peanut Butter Swirled Brownies Three years ago: Nolita-Style Avocado Toast and Chocolate Peanut Butter Tart Four years ago: Black-Bottom Oatmeal Pie and Potatoes with Soft Eggs and Bacon Vinaigrette Five years ago: Double-Chocolate Banana Bread and Sizzling Chicken Fajitas Six years ago: Coconut Bread and Chocolate-Hazelnut Macaroon Torte Seven years ago: Carrot Cake Pancakes Eight years ago: Oat and Maple Syrup Scones Nine years ago: Baked Rigatoni with Tiny Meatballs, St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake, Breakfast Pizza Ten years ago: Pita Bread, Layer Cake Tips + The Biggest Birthday Cake, Yet and Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Cornbread Eleven years ago: Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake, Chard and White Bean Stew, Pasta with Cauliflower, Walnuts, and Feta Twelve years ago: Skillet Irish Soda Bread and Lighter-Than-Air Chocolate Cake

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Breakfast Burritos 1.5 Years Ago: Pizza Beans 2.5 Years Ago: Piri Piri Chicken and Chocolate Pavlova 3.5 Years Ago: Oat and Wheat Sandwich Bread 4.5 Years Ago: Herbed Tomato and Roasted Garlic Tart and Cauliflower Slaw

Extra-Billowy Dutch Baby Pancake

Servings: 2 to 4

Time: 30 minutes

Source: Smitten Kitchen

Print

The two key things to keep in mind when aiming for Peak Billows in your puffy oven pancake are 1. Baking it long enough that the center sets too, getting a chance to slightly rumple, although it may not always. This usually involves setting the timer for the suggested time and checking back every 1 to 2 minutes after until it’s just right. 2. Having the right size pan for the batter yield. If there’s too little, the pancake will not have the same dramatic heights. The yield here is intended for one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes, or even a 9×13-inch pan. If you pan is smaller, simply scale the recipe down. For the 2-quart oval casserole dish shown up top, I used 3/4 of this batter, i.e. 3 eggs, 6 tablespoons each flour and milk. Finally, I know people often balk at the amount of butter, and this uses less than some recipes, but it’s essential that there’s enough in the pan that the pancake can slide around and rumple over it; if there’s any even slight sticking, it will not.

2 to 3 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 large eggs

1/2 cup (65 grams) all-purpose flour

1/2 cup milk (ideally whole milk but most varieties will work)

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

If savory: Freshly ground black pepper, wilted spinach or sauteed greens, bacon or ham cheese, herbs or comte, herbs (shown here with ham, gruyere, and chives)

If sweet: Powdered sugar, lemon juice, syrup, fresh berries, shaved chocolate or chocolate sauce

1 tablespoon sugar both optional)

Heat oven to 425 degrees F with one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes inside.

In a large bowl, beat eggs thoroughly with a whisk or fork. Add salt and flour, whisk until lumps disappear. Add milk, whisking until smooth. If you know you’d like your pancake to end up sweet, you can add 1 tablespoon granulated sugar to the batter; if you know you’d like it to be savory, you can add freshly ground black pepper. But, you can also choose your own adventure when it comes out.

When oven and baking vessel are fully heated, wearing potholders, carefully remove skillet(s) or baking dish(es) from the oven. Melt butter inside and roll it around so it goes up the sides, too. If using one large dish, two-ish tablespoons is often sufficient; it’s best to use three tablespoons between two dishes, however.

Pour batter into buttered dish(es) and return it to the oven. Bake for 12 to 13 minutes to start, and then in additional 1 to 2 minute increments until the edges are deeply golden brown and the centers are just beginning to color. Have your finishes ready to go. Transfer to a cooling back or trivet. I finish sweet pancakes with lemon juice and a good coating of powdered sugar, and savory pancakes with grated cheese, vegetables and/or ham or bacon, and fresh herbs. Eat immediately; these pancakes are best hot from the oven.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2019/03/extra-billowy-dutch-baby-pancake/

[santaprofit5-blog]

extra-billowy dutch baby pancake

[Welcome back to ✨ Newer, Better Month ✨ on Smitten Kitchen, when I get update a few SK classics with new knowledge, new techniques, and with real-life time constraints in mind. Previously: Perfect Spaghetti and Meatballs and Extra-Flaky Pie Crust.]

Sometimes “newer, betters” emerge because the original recipe wasn’t as good as it could be. But most of them — like this — come from real life. Like, when you’re really tired on a Saturday morning and you look at a recipe that you swore by at some time in your life when nobody dragged you out of bed at 7am on a Saturday [and then, instead of handing you a cup of coffee for your troubles, as you’d once daydreamed they’d be trained to do by now, demanded pancakes] and say “WHUT.” A blender? No, I am definitely not getting the blender out right now. Wait, why am I turning on the stove and the oven? Do I really need this much butter? Why are there lumps in the batter? Why isn’t this as puffy as I thought it would be? Can I go back to bed yet? I mean, just for a random example that’s definitely not going down in my kitchen as we speak.

In the early days of this site, I told you about what my mom’s 1970s blender recipe insert called German Pancakes, confusing many German friends and readers, who had never heard of them. We better know these as Dutch babies — equally confusing, and said to have been coined by a corruption of the German deutsch — or David Eyre’s Pancakes, but they’re closer to popovers or Yorkshire puddings than anything else in batter. Because dramatic, rumpled crepe-like pancakes will always be more exciting than undramatic, unrumpled crepes, I’ve made a lot of versions over the years: buckwheat, cherry-almond and chocolate on the site; gingerbread (in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook) and a parmesan dutch baby with creamed mushrooms (in Smitten Kitchen Every Day). It was when I was working on the chocolate Dutch baby that took a closer look at dutch baby formulas I’d been using and found through trial but mostly error one that I preferred.

I found that an eggier batter led to a more billowy pancake. I found a little less flour and milk also increased rumples. I found that by adding the flour first, a lumpy batter was fully avoidable. I also realized that a lot of what makes a Dutch baby “work” — i.e. have a dramatic and Instagram-worthy finish — making sure you have the right amount of batter for you pan and, often, cooking it a minute or two further than merely cooked through. An extra couple minutes helps the shape of the waves set, and provides a nice crispy edge underneath.

On sleepy Saturday mornings, I did away with the blender and sometimes even the whisk, the stove, and even the requirement of an ovenproof skillet. I also realized that you don’t even need to choose a sweet vs. savory angle (read: break up any arguments from children who didn’t agree on flavors) before you bake the pancake. You can shower it with anything you choose after it exits the oven — sugar, lemon, fruit, or chocolate for sweet tooths; cheese, herbs, sauteed vegetables, and/or ham or bacon for savory cravings. You could make it right now; believe me, I already am.

Previously

One year ago: Melting Potatoes Two years ago: Easiest French Fries and Peanut Butter Swirled Brownies Three years ago: Nolita-Style Avocado Toast and Chocolate Peanut Butter Tart Four years ago: Black-Bottom Oatmeal Pie and Potatoes with Soft Eggs and Bacon Vinaigrette Five years ago: Double-Chocolate Banana Bread and Sizzling Chicken Fajitas Six years ago: Coconut Bread and Chocolate-Hazelnut Macaroon Torte Seven years ago: Carrot Cake Pancakes Eight years ago: Oat and Maple Syrup Scones Nine years ago: Baked Rigatoni with Tiny Meatballs, St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake, Breakfast Pizza Ten years ago: Pita Bread, Layer Cake Tips + The Biggest Birthday Cake, Yet and Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Cornbread Eleven years ago: Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake, Chard and White Bean Stew, Pasta with Cauliflower, Walnuts, and Feta Twelve years ago: Skillet Irish Soda Bread and Lighter-Than-Air Chocolate Cake

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Breakfast Burritos 1.5 Years Ago: Pizza Beans 2.5 Years Ago: Piri Piri Chicken and Chocolate Pavlova 3.5 Years Ago: Oat and Wheat Sandwich Bread 4.5 Years Ago: Herbed Tomato and Roasted Garlic Tart and Cauliflower Slaw

Extra-Billowy Dutch Baby Pancake

Servings: 2 to 4

Time: 30 minutes

Source: Smitten Kitchen

Print

The two key things to keep in mind when aiming for Peak Billows in your puffy oven pancake are 1. Baking it long enough that the center sets too, getting a chance to slightly rumple, although it may not always. This usually involves setting the timer for the suggested time and checking back every 1 to 2 minutes after until it’s just right. 2. Having the right size pan for the batter yield. If there’s too little, the pancake will not have the same dramatic heights. The yield here is intended for one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes, or even a 9×13-inch pan. If you pan is smaller, simply scale the recipe down. For the 2-quart oval casserole dish shown up top, I used 3/4 of this batter, i.e. 3 eggs, 6 tablespoons each flour and milk. Finally, I know people often balk at the amount of butter, and this uses less than some recipes, but it’s essential that there’s enough in the pan that the pancake can slide around and rumple over it; if there’s any even slight sticking, it will not.

2 to 3 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 large eggs

1/2 cup (65 grams) all-purpose flour

1/2 cup milk (ideally whole milk but most varieties will work)

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

If savory: Freshly ground black pepper, wilted spinach or sauteed greens, bacon or ham cheese, herbs or comte, herbs (shown here with ham, gruyere, and chives)

If sweet: Powdered sugar, lemon juice, syrup, fresh berries, shaved chocolate or chocolate sauce

1 tablespoon sugar both optional)

Heat oven to 425 degrees F with one 12-inch round ovenproof skillet, two 9-inch round ovenproof skillets, the equivalent sized baking dishes inside.

In a large bowl, beat eggs thoroughly with a whisk or fork. Add salt and flour, whisk until lumps disappear. Add milk, whisking until smooth. If you know you’d like your pancake to end up sweet, you can add 1 tablespoon granulated sugar to the batter; if you know you’d like it to be savory, you can add freshly ground black pepper. But, you can also choose your own adventure when it comes out.

When oven and baking vessel are fully heated, wearing potholders, carefully remove skillet(s) or baking dish(es) from the oven. Melt butter inside and roll it around so it goes up the sides, too. If using one large dish, two-ish tablespoons is often sufficient; it’s best to use three tablespoons between two dishes, however.

Pour batter into buttered dish(es) and return it to the oven. Bake for 12 to 13 minutes to start, and then in additional 1 to 2 minute increments until the edges are deeply golden brown and the centers are just beginning to color. Have your finishes ready to go. Transfer to a cooling back or trivet. I finish sweet pancakes with lemon juice and a good coating of powdered sugar, and savory pancakes with grated cheese, vegetables and/or ham or bacon, and fresh herbs. Eat immediately; these pancakes are best hot from the oven.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2019/03/extra-billowy-dutch-baby-pancake/