#Cooked meats suppliers

[loscoechilledfoods]

Take a deep dive into Loscoe Foods' sourcing and delivery processes and learn how they are able to offer the freshest produce to their customers, straight from local farms to your table.

[usahasampingan]

supplier frozen food cikarang WA 0899-4583-655

[suiana]

yandere! private chef who makes you the most delicious of meals. it's like he has hands blessed by god with how fucking delicious his food is.

"nom nom nom this is so good"

"is it? haha, thank you :)"

he says his meat is ethically sourced and he uses only the freshest of ingredients. you believe him because, well, he wouldn't have a reason to lie to you, now would he? he's your private chef! you're paying him good money to cook you food!

however, you realize that whenever you have a sudden craving for meat, like in the middle of the night or something, he gets a little antsy.

"you'd like meat? ah... um... please allow me to get some first-"

"there's meat in the fridge, no? i remember the head maid did inventory not too long ago..."

you decide to investigate his weird behavior after that day. i mean, why would he freak out over some nuggets? you have some freezepak nuggets in your freezer??? just throw them in the air fryer???

but you have to say, the meat he uses is a little different. it's way more delicious than anything you ever ate before him. it's so good that you're scared to admit you might be a little addicted. maybe his supplier ran out of this meat and that's why he's worried?

"one two- wait where's cheryl?"

"who?"

that's not right. did you always have this little servants in your estate? you vividly remember having more.

"oh dear, why have the number of maids been decreasing?"

"I wouldn't know, I'm just a chef. anyway, would you happening to be craving some steak?"

...you decide not to question or find out more. if you had half a brain you'd be able to suspect that he's the reason behind all the disappearances.

coincidentally, they also happened to be your favorite servants.

"erm... I'm gonna go eat something-"

"ah! I've actually prepared some soup for you! allow me to serve it!"

and that's when you knew your private chef was not who you thought he was. because tell me why he served you a soup with a whole ass heart in it???

"what the fuck?!"

"i call this dish 'soup for my love'. with the soup base being a gentle chicken stock mixed with some blood, the main star is the beautiful heart of your favorite maid. it is garnised with some parsly."

you could only shudder in fear as he leans in, a flush on hsi cheeks.

"please enjoy your meal, my dear customer."

[creedslove]

I dont know if you are taking requests but I just imagined joel miller having a bad day, that man is sore and cuddles😭😭😭 and cockwarming while he caresses your back and you caress his?? idk😭😭😭i saw the pedro photo with the glasses and omgggg Also how would you think pedro boys would react to trying cockwarming? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg baby, I love Joel, he needs to be cuddled and helped to relax, our poor handsome contractor 😍 love you too, so much 😻

• Joel's work is hard and difficult, not only the physical aspect of it, although it is a lot because he carries heavy things, he does manual work and above all, he has to handle people: clients, suppliers, associates, employees, you name it, he's gotta handle it all

• so it's not only the physical part of working, but rather the emotional and mental sides too, and eventually, some days can be worse than others and when it just happens to be one of these days, Joel feels comforted to know he can just come home to you, because he knows he's got you, and you can count on each other for that

• it's no secret you always cook dinner for your handsome boyfriend, sometimes you make full meals for him, or sometimes you just bake him a chicken/meat pie or even those egg sandwiches that are to die for, whatever it is, he knows he can go home and count on that, but not only food can solve a tiring and stressful day, sometimes he's just dragging himself around and he needs his darlin' to make things right for him

• you are always willing to make him feel good, already knowing Joel from the moment he gets off his truck, you can tell if he's energetic or exhausted, if he's in a good or a bad mood and so on, so when you see him walking home looking almost defeated, his curls sticking to his oily forehead because of the heat, you know it's your time to act and make him feel good

• the first thing you do for your man is to hand him a refreshing bottle of water; yes he can drink a pop or a beer, but water first, it will make a difference and help him feel much better, then you can greet him, and usually as you snake your arms around his body, you can feel how damp his sweaty clothes are, he needs to relax and you are willing to help him

"come on, handsome, let's take a shower, you'll feel alright soon"

• you convince him, kissing his lips gently and nuzzling his neck, taking him by the hand and guiding him to the bathroom, helping Joel undress slowly, first his shirt is gone, then his heavy jeans, his socks and underwear and soon enough, you got your handsome boyfriend under the stream of shower, the way the water fall all over his head, wetting his curls and making him look like a kicked puppy caught in the rain

"you're so tired my love, let me take care of you"

• you whisper to him, knowing it doesn't have to become erotic just yet, you and Joel will have time for it later, but because you know he needs to relax, so you grab your shampoo and spread it all over his hair, you know how much he always compliments you and your smell, so why not treat him to your products? It will make him feel good and relaxed, and that, you enjoy it a lot

• once his hair is done, then it's time for soap and body scrub, Joel never really paid much attention to it, but he cannot deny it feels great, he's at your mercy, your hands caressing and making him feel all the time great

• and once you both step out of the shower, you and him decide to go to the couch, there's no trouble in having some lazy dinner once in a while just scattered around the couch and relaxing completely

• once Joel is done eating, you can finally go to his shoulders, giving him some rubs and massaging softly, you feel the tension knots under your finger tips and all you can do is to whisper to him again asking him to relax and remember the next day will be a new and better day

• and then you both start making out a little, it just feels so good and natural as you kiss, the way you run your hands over each other's body and make each other feel much better, it can end up in sex or not, but it doesn't really matter, you love each other deeply and that's enough for the two of you, because you're there when he needs you and Joel is there when you need him ❤️

____

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 11

Masterlist

Warnings: Canon typical themes, Billy mentioning his past, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, *slow nod* dumbasses.

A/N: Apologies if you're vegan/vegetarian/don't eat beef, I usually try to make these things neutral, but in this case, panthers are carnivores and that had a factor in the meal I chose.

Special dedication to @blanchedelioncourt for those two cute checkmarks you see beside my name. Thank you so much my love 💖

He liked meat.

He'd confessed to you on the drive home that he could never pass up an opportunity to indulge on a nice piece of steak, or even fish.

You liked the idea of preparing a filet mignon for him, but with no cuts at home, you'd quickly ordered from the nearest meat supplier, thankful that with today's technology, same day delivery was possible.

You'd agreed on a plan, he had to go to his place to get cleaned up, and he'd be at your door around seven.

Since he wasn't a fan of green beans or broccoli, you decided to do sautéed potatoes, and maybe a few glazed vegetables.

It was exciting, preparing a meal for him, you found enjoyment in the planning process.

The meat arrives at your place at the same time you do, and you examine it, making sure it's high quality, desperate to impress your boss, coming over to your home.

My friend, you correct with a smile, pulling out ingredients and beginning prep work as you close the door behind you.

You spot him, moving around in his place while you work, and you're happy that you decided to have your curtains open, even if to just catch tiny glimpses of him on occasion. Seeing more of him could never be a downfall.

Your mind jumps to the panther, and you let out a blissful sigh, feeling so unbelivably safe for the first time in a long while.

.

You've just finished with the potatoes and vegetables when there's a knock on your door.

Calm down, you tell yourself, when you realise your hands are clammy with anxiety.

"Hey." You say to him easily, letting him in. He's dressed down in a long sleeve burgundy sweater and jeans, and you definitely try your hardest not to devour him with your eyes.

You'd been able to shower too, tugging on one of your more casual dresses, the comfort and length of it managing to emphasize how much this was not a date. If it were a date, you'd be more inclined to wear something shorter, maybe tighter, but your loose dress hopefully showcased just enough without advertising too much.

"You look nice." He follows up, after saying hello, and you smile and return the compliment...casually... like friends would.

"I'm almost finished. How would you like your steak done?" You ask him, while busy fussing over your potatoes.

"Rare, but, you know you don't have to, right? I would have been fine with pasta."

You have to look away from him, bite your tongue so that you don't say something snarky or flirtatious.

"I wanted to." You respond easily, heating up your cast iron pan.

"Where did you learn to cook?" He asks, coming up next to you to study the little layout beside your stovetop, the garlic and rosemary prepped and ready to go.

"Online," You admit, looking up at him with a little smile, "It wasn't too hard to pick up, I really like eating."

"Good," He murmurs, reaching for a rosemary stem, breaking it in half and bringing it up to his nose to take a deep inhale. Your insides curling tight at how close he is, you want to lean in and press your head to his chest.

"You're so good at so many things." He murmurs absentmindedly, and it's not the heat of the pan that warms your face this time.

The steaks smell delicious as they cook, and Billy hovers over your shoulder, asking questions that you're very happy to answer. You even explain to him the steak finger test, explaining by touching his hands, how you'd know the meat is at the desired readiness.

He takes in information easily, doesn't get defensive, or act as if he already knows. If he has a question, he isn't afraid to ask you.

You might love that about him the most, how easy it is to be around him. There's no condescention or ego in the way, there's just him, and you, and conversation enough to fill the room.

When everything is plated, you reach for the cast iron pan to place it in the sink.

You grab a cloth, wrapping in around the handle, picking up the pan easily.

On the way into the sink, the hot handle grazes your fingers.

You hiss before your body even registers the pain, your fingertips screaming in brutal betrayal at being scorched.

He's beside you instantly, opening the tap to pull your hand under the cool stream.

"Ow, oh f-" You stop yourself, humming in pain.

One of his broad hands is against your back, rubbing in an attempt to soothe as he tries to care for your hand.

You try hard to resist swearing, and eventually he notices.

"You can say 'fuck' if you want, I don't mind."

You look up with him, a pained smile of resistance plasterd onto your face.

"Come on, say 'fuck' for me."

"Fuuuucccckkk." You draw out, letting the frustration of your pain out in one breath.

He laughs, you find yourself smiling along.

"See? We're friends, you can swear in front of me, I'll even go first so that you don't feel shy about it."

After a moment of baited anticipation, he opens his mouth.

"Shit." He says.

"Bitch." You respond, making a game out of the crude words.

"Asshole." He follows up.

You giggle, speaking without too much thought.

"Cock."

The air seems to freeze, holding still, ever patient to pass judgement on whether you've gone too far.

He leans in a little, till your noses are near touching, you can feel your body coiled tight at his proximity.

"Pussy." He whispers, and you feel the ascension of your soul to high heaven.

He doesn't allow the atmosphere to grow awkward with your stunned silence, he pulls your fingers from under the cool water to examine them. There's no pain anymore, and definitely no real damage done.

"Do they still hurt?" he asks.

"N-no," you answer, "It was nothing serious."

Billy nods in understanding.

"We should eat." You utter, doing your very best not to stutter and succeeding.

You offer him a glass of zinfandel, and you take one for yourself before sitting across from him. The wine is ruby red, and though it's advertised as a sweet wine, you don't find it very sweet at all.

You cut your meat slowly, waiting patiently for him to cut into his.

You sigh happily when you see the inside of his steak is an almost perfect rare, appreciating that you came very near the desired colour.

You try not to stare at him, or make him uncomfortable as he brings the first piece up to his mouth.

You're vibrating with worry as he takes his first bite, looking politely down at your own plate and waiting for a response.

A low groan spills from him.

You look up in surprise at his face as your toes curl at the rough sound. It goes right down to your cunt, pulsing with desire since he looked into your eyes and whispered that filthy word earlier.

His eyes are closed, his fingers wrapped tightly around the fork as he chews. Your heart pounds as you realise that his current state of bliss has been caused by you.

He opens his eyes, fixes them right on you.

"That is fucking delicious." He says, his voice low and gravelly as he picks up a piece of potato this time.

You sigh in relief, cutting into your piece next, excited to taste what he does.

It is good, you hum in appreciation as you eat it, relieved, that you managed not to mess this up.

.

It's only been one meal, and yet somehow, Billy has found himself captivated by you.

No other relationship had ever blossomed so quickly, or made him feel this safe in his vulnerabilities.

Being around you was as easy as breathing, he could laugh, and say the first thing that came to mind and not have to second guess himself because you were so welcoming.

He wonders if all of you would be welcoming to him.

The panther takes the opportunity to insert vivid thoughts of your parted thighs, images of your slick cunt ready for him to take.

He could scent it, between the savoury notes of the meal, was the sweet call of your arousal.

You wanted him, he knew it, and he wanted you too.

He holds himself back from acting on it, doesn't want to destroy the little pieces of friendship he's managed to gather with you. He doesn't want you to think that any of this was motivated by just sex.

"Will you tell me more about growing up?" You ask, three-quarter way into the meal.

He almost chokes on a carrot.

"It's.... not the best story." He responds.

"Oh, it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. I didn't mean to pry."

But he wants to. He wants to tell you about it.

"My mother dropped me off at a fire station when I was born. I have no idea who my father is."

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head.

"Don't be, she was an addict from what I understand, might have been worse for me if she kept me."

You smile sadly at him, reaching across and covering his hand. He looks down at the touch, before turning his hand upwards so that your hands are clasped together.

"The group home wasn't all bad, just lacking you know? A decent family, but with all the important parts missing."

You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back.

"I ran away when I was fifteen, kind of just jumped from place to place, living off scraps, sleeping wherever was safest, and then I met Frank a couple of years later."

Billy grins.

"Frank saved my life, and then we joined the military together. Gave me a rough brotherhood I didn't know I needed. Served for ten years and here I am."

"Wow, that's quite a story," you murmur, looking deep in thought.

"Why did you run away?"

He swallows, looks away from your inquisitive eyes.

"You know, I just got tired of them."

"Oh."

He shrugs.

"Yeah, well I hope your childhood was better."

You smile.

"Maybe so, I mean, comparatively, but not without its own problems."

He nods in understanding, eager to hear more.

.

You're almost done with the story of your childhood when there's an odd knock on your door.

Nine taps, with a short pause each third tap.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion.

"I hope you don't mind, I ordered dessert." He says, standing up, and walking to your door.

He opens it, and you watch him accept a little cloth parcel from the person on the other side of the door with a nod of his head.

Curiously, you slip off your seat and approach him as he closes your door. When he turns, he finds you right before him, examining the item in his hands.

"You ordered dessert?" You ask, confused beyond measure.

"I wanted to surprise you, and I couldn't pick it up before coming here, so I had it delivered downstairs and brought up. I hope that's okay?"

Surprise me? You think, an odd feeling of delight swimming inside of you.

You smile, reaching for the box that he gives easily, and you place it onto your counter, taking care to unwrap it gently.

Your mouth parts when you catch sight of it. It's a lemon meringue, with a strawberry layer beneath the toasted marshmallow fluff, and a beautiful strawberry topping all of it off.

There's only one pie, but it's about the size of your hand, definitely large enough for the two of you to share.

"It looks amazing." You comment, tilting your head to examine the toasted brown waves of the marshmallow fluff.

"It is, I got it from one of my favourite dessert places. The chef's ex-marine, like me."

You smile up at him, grabbing two spoons from your kitchenette and taking the pie into one hand.

"Couch?" You offer, no room for arguement, you ease yourself onto the soft seat, trying your best not to topple the dessert.

He sits beside you, and you turn to face him, offering a spoon in his direction.

"I've never had a meringue before, but I always wanted to try it."

"Is that what you call it?" He responds, "I usually just ask for the lemon pie."

A sound of humour mixed with pain leaves the back of your throat.

"You're lucky they get your order right," you say with a laugh, "One day, you might just get an actual lemon pie."

He hums, taking a small spoonful of the meringue and tapping it against your spoonful.

"Well, here's to getting what you want."

It's an odd toast, but you follow his lead and put the spoonful of dessert into your mouth.

The first flavour you get is the delicious sweetness of the marshmallow and strawberry, the sweet citrus tang of the lemon follows next and the crust rounds all the flavours up into a delicious and fruity finish.

"Fuck." You sigh, closing your eyes for a long moment and simply basking in the flavours that melt right into your mouth.

You don't look up at him, taking another hasty spoonful before sinking right back into your circle of bliss.

You hum at the flavour, the tangy strawberry slices below the marshmallow fluff adds a very interesting taste.

"Sorry." You murmur, absentmindedly to Billy, lost in the flavour.

"For what now?" He asks and you smile.

"For being weird."

He hums.

"Honestly, I'd say the dessert had the desired effect."

"Yeah, if making me fall in love with a pie was the goal."

"So you admit it's a pie, then?"

You let out a little chuckle, looking up at him. He raises his eyebrows at you as he takes another spoonful into his mouth.

"I never said it wasn't a pie!" You shoot at him, "I'm just saying, there's a difference between what you ask for and what this is."

He leans in, teasingly, your heart stutters as he gets closer.

"And yet somehow, I always get what I want." He comments, and you gulp.

Up close, he notices that a few strands of your hair a clinging to your face and are almost in your mouth.

The raises a hand, it hovers over your cheek and you try to keep breathing and not drool while you're at it.

"May I?" He asks, and you nod your head quickly, before he even has a chance to decide against it.

His fingertips are gentle on your cheek, brushing away the strands in small swipes. You sigh at the relief of subtle irritation, giving him a small smile.

Your breath finally stops when he cups your face in his hand, and you feel your eyelids droop. His hand is warm, against your feverish cheek and he's so close that your noses brush.

You mind is screaming at him, with urgency, the words kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me, are chanted inside your head.

He does not kiss you.

Instead, he pulls back, rough palm slipping from your cheek leaving a coolness that wasn't there before.

He checks his watch.

"It's getting late, I should go."

You try to curb the disappointment inside of you by eating the last spoonful of tart.

"Yeah, sure." you say after, standing and piling the spoons onto the few dishes in your sink before washing your hands.

You open the door of your aparment for him.

"I'll see you in the morning?" He asks.

"Mhmm," You hum the affirmative, "Take care." You add in after a moment.

He gives you a nod, and then he's gone.

You wait, back pressed to the door till you hear the elevator outside ding as it reaches your floor. You're patient for a few more moments before you move, grabbing a throw pillow from your couch and screaming into it out of frustration.

Panting, you give the pillow a little punch for good measure.

What an infuriating man he was, tormenting you this way.

You lie there, with the pillow over your face for a few minutes after the frustration has left your body in a fatigued mess.

The lights clicking on in his home catches your attention.

You hated him.

He made your blood boil, he made your body ache, he made you wet and he took no acknowledgement of his actions.

You reach up, under your dress, tugging your panties off in one swift move, kicking it away to be worried about later.

You groan when your fingers meet the soft edges of your dripping cunt, ready and eager for the pleasure it so deserves.

You suck in a deep breath, arching your back and reaching up to unclasp your bra with sticky fingers, pulling it from below your dress before tugging the straps of your dress down.

You sigh happily, breasts exposed to the open air as your fingers meet your cunt once more, sliding up to brush against your clit, you gasp in surprise, truly unaware of how aroused you really were until now.

You wished he would have kissed you, you think about the filthy way he'd dip his tongue into your mouth and explore. His mouth would taste like the lemon meringue you were sharing, he'd groan into your mouth hopefully, like he was tasting something worthwhile, the way he groaned over your cooking earlier.

You sigh, one hand worrying your swollen bud, while you raise the other to pinch at an unsuspecting nipple. Your breath hitches, losing sight of your surroundings as a sharp wave of bliss overtakes for a moment.

The pillow near your face slips off the couch in your shaking frenzy, and it opens up your line of sight to the windows of his apartment.

You groan, imagines him looking at you while you play with yourself, imagining the filthy words he'd say if he could see you.

You turn your head from your exposed window, facing the couch instead so that you can imagine more clearly that he's watching you.

You tug your dress higher, the wetness between your thighs threatening to spill over and stain your couch.

You think about the way he'd hold you to his body, tight, without any room to breathe or pull away.

What would it feel like to sink down onto his cock? Your breath hitches at the thought. Of having him rock you slowly on his lap, his teeth in your shoulder, your dress undone and barely hanging onto you.

You want to cry from how badly you need him.

You turn your head back to your open window.

There he is.

You shudder out a sigh, working your hand faster between your legs.

You can't see much, the lights behind him casting a shadow over his frame so that you can't see much more than his silhouette.

You know he can see you clearly though, your lights are still on, and you're sure every inch of your body is illuminated for him.

You gasp, tilting your head back, the hand on your breast moving to fist the soft couch tightly as you slowly reach your peak.

Your back arches, and your orgasm slams into you. Your thighs tremble, your entire body shaking, all you can focus on is your clit, circling it just right to prolong the orgasm.

Your nipples tighten further, and you only hesitate for a second before you push two fingers into yourself.

You almost scream, automatically clapping your hand over your mouth as you rock two fingers inside of you.

You remember the way he'd said the word 'pussy' not too long ago.

You turn your head, he's still there.

Enjoying the show? You think in his direction, and when you focus a bit more on his shadow, you notice very subtle movements of his arm. You raise your head to focus on him.

Oh god, is he-

Fuck, he is.

He's touching himself while he looks at you.

You hiss, the very thought of him encourages your hand to move faster, with more force between your legs.

Fuck me, you beg in his direction, I don't want to be your friend anymore.

You let out a long sigh, your fingertips just grazing that blissful spot inside of you.

You lose focus of everything the next time you cum, gasping, trembling, struggling to do anything more than feel the absolute bliss flooding your system, so much pent up frustration caused by being around him being released from you on each breath you take.

You sigh, pulling your fingers out of your dripping center, turning in his direction to look over at him.

One hand pressed to his window, you watch his head drop, his open palm fold into a tight fist, the fast movement of his arm slowing into soft strokes.

He must have orgasmed too.

You smile, tugging your dress up to hide your breasts from his view. You know you should move to clean up soon, the wetness of your arousal growing uncomfortable between your thighs, but your eyelids droop instead, looking at him as he looks at you as you drift off to sleep right there on your couch.

You wake up maybe an hour later, sitting up, and yawning, glancing at his dark window for a second before ambling your way to your bathroom.

You go to bed naked, sheets wrapped around you, too drowsy to worry about your modesty.

.

.

.

A/N: Happy Friday! Here is a photo reference for the dessert.

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is the chef for the mob money laundering restaurant in his area. Because the restaurant isn't expected or required to turn a profit, Hob can cook what he wants and run the place mostly how he wants -- his liquor and meat suppliers are sketchy as hell and he has to be nice to all the "made" guys who come into the place, but mostly he's left alone to cook the food he wants.

Hob is a really good chef, but his restaurant concept was never going to be something that secured bank loans or conventional funding. Still his food and the chill vibe of the restaurant made it a hit with area locals and got him a lot of loyal repeat customers.

Into to this comes a food critic who writes up Hob's restaurant glowingly and whose review catches the eye of one of those fancy best restaurants in the world list/Michelin star judges who visits the restaurant and loves it, and puts it on the list.

Your choice:

1. Dream is the smitten judge - the food is so good, the chef is hot and fantastic, the restaurant deserves attention; Hob is chuffed and horrified! For Hob the recognition is wonderful and validating, but the restaurant is still a mob front and can't really handle the scrutiny, like at all.

OR

2. Dream is the mobster in charge of the territory containing Hob "restaurant" and when the restaurant is put on the best list/gets a Michelin star, Dream goes to see what should be done (torch the place 😉😉).

But Dream tastes the food and sees Hob being fantastic and welcoming; Dream realizes that he's going to have to clean up the "crime-y" aspect(s) of the business so that it can withstand the attention.

This is all absolutely incredible and I love both scenarios! But number 2 is tickling me so much. Hardened criminal mob boss Dream having to accept that he's accidently got a bona fide cooking genius on his hands, having to send in his men to "clean up" the restaurant - literally. If Hob is going to make this place a success, then the books are going to be in order, the ingredients are going to be paid for, the staff will get a good wage, and the health inspectors will have nothing to complain about.

Hob comes to Dream and apologises for causing trouble. He didn't mean to draw attention to Dream’s "business ventures". Dream assures him that its ok, he's decided to let him live. As long as he keeps a table free for Dream whenever he wants it.

And Dream ends up coming in every night (when he's not busy criming) for the pleasure of Hob’s company, and the nice food. He's a lot less grumpy and menacing when he's been properly fed, and Hob kinda forgets to be scared of him? Then one time Dream shows up with a massive bullet graze in his shoulder and Hob has to give him first aid in the kitchen. After it's done they sit on the floor and eat together, and when Dream falls asleep Hob carefully carries him upstairs to the flat above the restaurant.

There's a mob boss in his bed, pale and sleep-soft and the worst of it all is that Hob wants to keep him there, safe. If only he could.

[coopers-kitchen]

This pig first found out about his dad’s taste when he found out that the reason he was never allowed in the basement as a kid is because it’s where his dad and uncle butchered and portioned up all those fat boys that kept disappearing in “bear attacks”.

Well, ever since his dad came down and found his own son had stripped off and locked himself up in a feeding cage, the family’s gotten closer than ever. This hog helps with the hunts, the care, the prep, and he’s been getting nice and fat on a diet of fresh longpork.

Well, it wasn’t too long before curiosity turned to acceptance. He knew his dad wanted to eat him, and he knew he’d be damn delicious, too. He walked around naked, all those choice cuts on display. Now that cannibalism has been legalised, he doesn’t even need to hide it. He’s even brought some pigs from college home to meet the family.

Well, the sad fact is this pig realised that it wasn’t enough to just be butchered - he wanted a live roast, so he could feel every moment of the prep, and feel himself change from pig to pork.

Well, his dad’s been cooking up longpig for decades, but never a whole one. It’s a whole different skillset and, even though they tried with a few pigs, he never got the knack of a live cook. Sure, he’d dreamed of what his son would taste like ever since he saw him locked up between a Swedish backpacker and a college student he’d hooked up with, but it’s one thing to butcher a random hog, it’s another to do it to your son when he wants nothing more than to be cooked alive.

Well, I’m always interested in helping a hog achieve his dreams, and when they contacted me I was more than happy to help out - after all, not only do I have the skills, I have the sort of kitchen most pigs can only dream of. Dad was even kind enough to throw in a pig he’d butcher for me, lining up all his caged stock for a virtual meat inspection. Soon, they were on their way to LA alongside a few coolers filled with sausages, burgers, chops, steaks, ribs, ground meat, and meat for stuffing, all harvested from a delicious volunteer that had spent six months in a feeding cage ready to butcher.

This pig could barely wait for the oven. He’d spent three days on an all beer diet and shaved himself totally smooth. Some basic prep, one last fuck, and he was ready to stuff (longpork, wild rice, apple, and whisky), glaze (a honey apple reduction), truss up, and slide into the oven with a juicy red apple wedged between his teeth for the live roast he’d been dreaming of.

Well, cooking a pig like this is an all-day project, so me and his dad had a chat, talking shop. We had a light lunch, and he’s definitely an expert butcher based on how delicious and juicy those longpork chops were. Still, we all knew what the main event was: the whole roast currently squirming as he felt his meat cooking, and we only got hungrier as the smell of roasting pork filled the house, my eager housepigs sorting out all the side dishes and serving us however we wanted and, well, longpig is an aphrodisiac.

By the time evening rolled by, we were ready to eat, and it’s rare to see a dad that eager to dig into his son, or for anyone to match my appetite. Between the two of us we made a decent dent in this hog in a few days, and by the time dad was ready to make the trip back east he’d gained a few pounds, a better understanding of the art of cooking, and the contact details of one of my proteges who’s looking for a supplier for his new restaurant.

[darkeagleruins]

Americans Are Being Poisoned

“Suppliers have been caught using a special product known as meat glue to stick together scraps of meat”

Meat glue, also known as transglutaminase, is legal in all 50 states.

It is used in about eight million pounds of meat every year in America

“The hidden ingredient that’s making you sick”

“I've just got some, fine diced beef and my special enzyme. I'm just gonna mix it up a bit.

Why have we got the masks on?

This is dangerous. See that? Don't breathe that in.

This powder is transglutanamase enzyme, otherwise known as meat glue. Meat glues come in a number of forms, some produced by cultivating bacteria, the others, the primary ingredient comes from the blood plasma of pigs and cattle, specifically the coagulant which causes blood to clot. Ours uncooked is easy to spot the difference, but cooked is another story. Okay.

(SEE VIDEO FOR IMAGES)

Meat glue one is on the right, and the real McCoy is on the left.

And it's not just beef. Pork, lamb, fish, and chicken are all stuck back together using this glue.

If this food is sold or represented as a solid piece of steak and you cook it rare, you're really leaving yourself open, um, to get food poisoning. And chances are, unless you're a vegetarian, you're eating it on a regular basis.”

[duraxxor]

Genuinely, do you eat? Can you? Do you exist off blood or can flesh sate your form?

I might be asking so I can invite you for a meal, not me mind, but it would be a shame to waste good cooking for someone who can’t appreciate it. If I must I can source some rather nice vintages of blood. I have a source you know. I’ll get you her soulstone so you can stay in touch.

Now this was quite the turn of events. Never had he expected to hear of someone to be so bold as to outright pull this card on him. A blood-laced beverage was one thing, but to outright ask of his eating habits and making an offer for a source. It left the Lord squinting in disbelief.

" Heh... little mystery shadow, of course I can eat. " He smiled warmly, perhaps a bit too warm on the matter. " ... You will find my preference is quite raw. Huehuehuehue! " Fiendishly he guffawed at his own little humor, ultimately deciding to reconsider teasing on the matter at hand. He looped his fingers around one another, minus his left ringbearer, of course. " I am afraid enjoying food properly is passed my own expiration, I'm afraid. Though, I have found interesting new flavors through what I can devour. But I won't share some of those details. So, I will just entertain the idea of the rarest of meats and the crimson essence of life. " A white eyebrow lofted as the shadow's hints seem to point in the direction of one who he was familiar with.

" Your supplier wouldn't happen to be the reputable Courier Shadowsun, would it? She has quite the selection on beverages and other goods, I might add. If not, perhaps you and I can offer a trade of trade sources? " The corners of his mouth curled, finding it most delicious to chatter away.

[ Thank you anon! tagging @safrona-shadowsun for little mentions ]

[loscoechilledfoods]

Cured meat supplied by most Meat manufacturers UK is made through processes that remove moisture from the meat via osmosis that as a result pulls out potentially harmful bacteria. Most processes necessitate a mixture of salt and natural, or synthetically derived nitrates that aid in regulating moisture loss; and preserve qualities like color, flavor, and longevity.

[usahasampingan]

Supplier Frozen food Tanggerang Wa 0899-4583-655

#supplier frozen food cikarang#supplier of frozen meat#cook frozen food suppliers#supplier frozen food murah#frozen food suppliers in california#supply frozen food#a supplier for the automobile industry manufacturers#supplier of frozen products#supplier of frozen foods#supplier of frozen goods

[jidranmeat]

Meat Delivery  Dubai: Get Fresh, High-Quality Meats Delivered to Your Door

In a city that thrives on culinary diversity and innovation, Dubai has quickly become a meat lover's paradise. Imagine indulging in the finest cuts of beef, succulent lamb, and tender chicken—all delivered straight to your doorstep. With the rise of meat delivery Dubai ,residents can now savor high-quality meats without ever needing to step into a bustling market or grocery store. Whether you're preparing for an extravagant dinner party or simply want to elevate your weeknight meals, the convenience of online meat shopping ensures you receive fresh products while saving time.

As more people embrace this modern approach to sourcing their food, local suppliers are stepping up their game by offering not just quality but also variety—from organic options to specialized cuts that cater to every culinary need. In this article, we’ll explore how meat delivery Dubai  is revolutionizing home cooking and making gourmet ingredients accessible for everyone. Get ready to discover why having premium meats at your fingertips is not just a luxury but an everyday possibility!

Importance of Freshness in Meat Quality

Freshness in meat quality is a paramount concern for consumers, especially in bustling markets like Dubai. When it comes to meat delivery Dubai ,freshness directly influences flavor, texture, and overall culinary experience. The importance of sourcing freshly slaughtered and processed meats cannot be overstated; they not only retain their vibrant color but also enhance dishes with a rich taste profile that frozen or previously thawed options simply cannot match.

Understanding High-Quality Mutton Characteristics

High-quality mutton is distinguished not just by its tenderness but also by its rich flavor profile. The ideal mutton should exhibit a deep, vibrant color—ranging from pale pink to a darker red—indicative of freshness and optimal aging processes. The marbling of fat within the meat is another crucial characteristic; intramuscular fat enhances juiciness and imparts that sought-after umami taste. When purchasing, take note of the texture; high-quality mutton should be firm yet supple, meaning it can withstand slight pressure without becoming mushy.

For those looking to experience this culinary delight conveniently, exploring meat delivery Dubai provides an excellent opportunity to discover premium cuts that might not be available at local markets. Suppliers often source their mutton from reputable farms that prioritize ethical practices, ensuring you receive not only great taste but also peace of mind regarding animal welfare. Engaging with trusted vendors can connect you with various breeds known for their distinct flavors and cooking qualities—from succulent lamb to robust adult mutton—enriching your dining experience with each meal prepared.

Choosing Premium Beef Cuts for Cooking

When selecting premium beef cuts for your culinary endeavors, it’s essential to understand the unique qualities each cut offers. For instance, ribeye is cherished for its rich marbling and robust flavor, making it ideal for grilling or searing. On the other hand, tenderloin boasts an unparalleled tenderness that lends itself beautifully to elegant dishes and quick cooking methods. By understanding these nuances, you not only enhance your cooking but also impress diners with expert knowledge of meat.

Moreover, sourcing quality beef has never been easier with services like meat delivery Dubai that bring fresh cuts directly to your doorstep. This convenience allows home cooks to explore specialty cuts they might not find at local markets. Consider trying less common options such as flank or tri-tip; these cuts can be both economical and packed with flavor when marinated and cooked properly. Investing time in choosing the right cut can transform a simple meal into an extraordinary experience, elevating both taste and presentation effortlessly.

Essential Qualities of Fresh Chicken Meat

When selecting fresh chicken meat, the essence of quality hinges on several essential qualities that elevate both taste and health benefits. One standout characteristic is the color; premium fresh chicken should exhibit a vibrant pink hue without any signs of dullness or discoloration. The texture also plays a vital role—look for meat that feels firm yet slightly moist to the touch, as this indicates proper handling and storage practices.

Another crucial aspect is freshness tied to scent; top-quality chicken should have a mild smell rather than a pungent odor, which can suggest spoilage. Moreover, sourcing your poultry from reputable suppliers who offer reliable meat delivery Dubai ensures that you enjoy not only convenience but also transparency regarding the sourcing process. Choosing fresh chicken with these qualities not only enhances your culinary experience but also supports your overall well-being by reducing exposure to harmful additives often found in processed meats.

How to Select the Best Meats

When selecting the best meats, quality often hinges on understanding sourcing and freshness. When searching for meat delivery Dubai, look for suppliers that prioritize grass-fed or pasture-raised options, as these often provide superior taste and nutritional value. Meat from animals raised in natural environments tends to have a more robust flavor profile, which can elevate your culinary experience. Don't hesitate to ask questions about the meat’s origin; a reputable supplier should be transparent about their farm partnerships.

Frozen meat Delivery

Frozen meat delivery services have revolutionized the way we source our protein, making it more convenient and accessible than ever. In a bustling city like Dubai, where life oftentimes moves at a breakneck pace, residents seek not just quality but also efficiency when it comes to their grocery shopping. With an array of online platforms offering premium frozen meat delivery Dubai, customers can now select from various cuts—ranging from succulent steaks to organic chicken—without stepping foot outside their homes. The beauty of this service lies in its ability to maintain the integrity and freshness of the product while ensuring it arrives at your doorstep with minimal hassle.

Online meat Ordering 

The rise of online meat ordering has transformed the culinary landscape, particularly in vibrant cities like Dubai. Consumers now enjoy the luxury of selecting premium cuts from the comfort of their homes, eliminating the hassle often associated with traditional butchery visits. With a few clicks, you can explore an array of meat options, from grass-fed beef to ethically sourced organic lamb, ensuring quality isn't compromised for convenience. 

What’s fascinating about meat delivery Dubai is the emphasis on sustainability and transparency. Many online platforms provide detailed information about sourcing practices and animal welfare standards, allowing customers to make informed decisions that align with their values. Additionally, tech-savvy butchers are leveraging innovative packaging solutions that not only preserve freshness during transit but also minimize environmental impact — a win-win for health-conscious consumers and eco-warriors alike. As this market continues to evolve, it’s clear that online meat ordering is more than just a trend; it’s reshaping how we connect with food while embracing modernity and responsibility.

Conclusion: Enjoy Quality Meats at Home

Bringing quality meats into your home has never been more convenient, especially with the rise of meat delivery Dubai services that strive to cater to both taste and health. Imagine savoring gourmet cuts, ethically sourced, with the ease of a few clicks on your smartphone. No longer do you have to settle for bland supermarket options; instead, you can indulge in a variety of artisanal selections delivered right to your doorstep. 

Moreover, embracing this trend opens up a world of culinary exploration. Fresh cuts allow home chefs to experiment with recipes from different cuisines—think marinated lamb for Middle Eastern nights or succulent steak inspired by classic American barbecues. The joy in crafting meals becomes even more pronounced when using top-notch ingredients tailored to your preferences. By opting for meat delivery Dubai services, you're not just ordering food; you're investing in culinary adventures that lead to memorable gatherings and heartfelt family dinners at home.

FAQs 

1. What types of meat do you offer for delivery in Dubai?  

We provide a wide range of fresh, high-quality meats including beef, lamb, chicken, and seafood. All our products are sourced from trusted suppliers to ensure the best taste and quality.

2. How does your meat sourcing process work?

Our meat sourcing process involves partnering with local farmers and reputable suppliers who adhere to strict quality standards. This ensures that every cut of meat is fresh, ethically sourced, and meets our high standards.

3. Can I customize my order based on specific cuts or types of meat?

Yes! Our meat delivery service in Dubai allows you to customize your order by selecting specific cuts or even requesting certain types of meat according to your preferences. Just let us know what you need!

4. What is the delivery time for orders placed through your website?

We strive to deliver all orders within 24 hours in Dubai. You can expect prompt communication regarding your order status upon completion.

5. Do you provide information about the origin of your meats?

Absolutely! We believe in transparency, so we provide detailed information about the origin of our meats, including where they were sourced and how they were processed.

6. Are there any subscription options available for regular deliveries?

Yes! We offer flexible subscription plans that allow you to receive your favorite meats regularly without having to place an order each time. Choose from weekly or monthly options tailored to your needs.

7. What safety measures do you implement during the handling and delivery of meats? 

We prioritize food safety by following strict hygiene protocols throughout processing and packaging. Our delivery personnel are trained to handle products safely, ensuring they arrive at your doorstep fresh and uncontaminated.

8. How can I contact customer support if I have questions about my order?

You can reach our customer support team via phone or email listed on our website's contact page. We’re here to assist you with any queries related to our meat delivery service in Dubai!

[stampy-offical]

Hells little darling au pt 1 random fact.

The first overlord alyx met that was alastor and his friends was Vellette

It ended with a conversation that none of the older generation understood

Stampy had only been truly mad once. His true demon form was rather big and changed with cracks and creaking steam noise. He left a trail of Boiling wax acidic ink and various chemicals across a street. It ended with blood.

Rosie was the reason stampy became a cannibal. He ate her meat pie found out what it was and considered cannibalism if a good enough friend cooks it. He got more comfortable with it when he got friendly with the gang.

Stampys factories make glass and paper products. The one in his office makes trinkets along with metal machine components. His warehouses store anything for a price. The fight rings however are invite only. There's 3 rules.

No outside weapons. Everyone involved will be sent to the ring with you to fight the one the fighters call 'Bull' Bull is the top fighter.

No attacking the staff. They will shoot. They have angel guns.

No informing the Vees or Zesteail about the locations. Zesteail keeps trying to make an acid pit or getting lava around the stage. The vees always make it a production and if he has to deal with ONE MORE VOXTECH ATTEMPT AT BUYING HIM OUT HE WILL PERSONALLY FEED YOU TO ALASTOR

Vox and Carmella had both tried to buy his company. Differences are Carmella settled for a partnership. Vox tried to cheat him and can't take a no.

Stampy has a friendship with the Carmines due to his businesses. Before you ask. No Zesteail dosent see him as an ally. He's just a supplier who gives him good products. (He always orders ceramic or glass goods. Stampy knows its not for his home.)

Stampy is the only one who saw Bull fight and survive. Everyone else died or never knew he existed.

Stampy has picked up wood carving and stone mansion. He's doing a rather good job of multiple products.

Like every overlord he had been summoned at least once to the living world. Unlike the others it was his full body. He never told anyone. The most the overlords think humans can summon are alastors shadow. Stampy meanwhile is filing paperwork about how to show that not all the overlords like blood or hearts as sacrifice.

Stampy's hometown was wiped off the map by a fire and a epidemic. He was blamed for both due to a coincidence of him being a violent youth and people disliking him. (The fire was a chain reaction of a lightning bolt hitting the town church. The epidemics was a nearby river full of bugs.)

Charlie used him as a success story as she accidentally found out through Husk (he's at the hotel cause Angel told him it'd be good for business. Stampys here for Alyx and the younger sinners [I'm an old violent son of a bitch. You kids are here cause of some flying dick who thinks giving kids cancer and food shortage is a good way to have people like him then got his son nailed to a board like a c*** father. Basically. I deserve to be here.]) Because he was an orphaned pickpocket with no last name and only called stampy cause he had a habit to rob post offices.

[mariacallous]

When Liebman’s Delicatessen opened on 235th Street in 1953, the Bronx was still sometimes called “the Jewish Borough.” More than half a million Jews lived between Mott Haven and Riverdale, and according to the 70-year-old deli’s website, they were served by 100 kosher delis. Today, Liebman’s is the last one standing. 

“I ask myself a lot: ‘why are we the one that survived?’” Yuval Dekel, who has owned the deli for 20 years, told The Nosher. “Certainly because we’re in Riverdale, which is still a Jewish community.” 

He surveys the restaurant, where nearly all 60 blue naugahyde seats are occupied by neighborhood regulars over 60, noshing on pastrami to the strains of ‘50s jukebox hits. “We’re a deli that has regular New York City resident customers. We’re not a tourist destination.”

Dekel, one of the youngest people in the room, took a circuitous route to becoming a deli man. Born in Haifa in 1978, he arrived in the Bronx two years later with his father, who immigrated with hopes of becoming an entrepreneur. A business broker helped the family find Liebman’s, which had foundered under a string of owners after Joseph Liebman sold it in the late ‘50s. 

Though Dekel’s father (also named Joseph) was of Romanian descent, he knew little about the Ashkenazi foodways of New York. “I don’t even think he knew about delis,” Dekel said. “In Israel, there’s no deli culture.” Joseph Dekel added Israeli dishes like falafel and hummus to the menu, but took pains to preserve the deli classics, too. 

For his part, Yuval Dekel was a metalhead. He was the drummer for Irate, a well-loved New York City thrash band, touring up and down the East Coast, throughout Europe and Japan, and playing at iconic downtown clubs like CBGB in the ‘90s. 

“It was pretty hardcore,” Dekel laughs. “Very serious moshing going on. Quite a different environment from this.” 

But during his entire stint as a metal drummer, Dekel also supported himself by working as a baker at Amy’s Bread and the original U.S. location of Le Pain Quotidien, developing a serious commitment to artisanal foods. When his father died in 2002 and Dekel took over Liebman’s, his first priority was the quality. He wanted to make sure that every dish on the menu, from sandwiches to stews, got its due.

“One thing that differentiates us from — let’s say Katz’s — is we pay a lot of attention to not just the pastrami,” Dekel said. “Don’t get me wrong, I spent years figuring out how to make our own. But there’s this whole other side to us, which is basically a full-service kosher diner.”

Liebman’s excels in the kinds of homey dishes that tend to be afterthoughts for the best-known pastrami pushers. Stuffed cabbage, stewed in a sweet-and-sour sauce and piled with melting onions and plump raisins, falls apart at the slightest pressure from a fork. On Fridays, Dekel serves cholent, the slow-cooked Shabbat stew. 

That’s not to say the deli classics can be missed. Dekel began curing his own pastrami several years ago, after the number of high-quality suppliers had dwindled. The deli slices it thin so that slivers of the smoked meat’s dark crust are evenly interspersed on a sandwich. On the Liebman’s Favorite platter, pastrami is piled high on an open-faced slice of rye, accompanied by fries — thick-cut, pleasantly greasy shards of potato — and kishke (stuffed derma) slathered with brown gravy. It’s an unbelievably hefty plate of food that reminds you the object of a Jewish deli is excess. 

Daintier deli classics abound. Liebman’s tender matzah balls float in a rich broth slicked with beads of schmaltz. Hebrew National franks sizzle and blister on a foil-lined griddle in the front window, ready to be garnished with sinus-clearing brown mustard, sauerkraut, coleslaw or — a Liebman’s favorite — a scoop of potato salad. Old timers pick at artfully arranged cold cut platters of sliced tongue, corned beef and kosher salami.

Homemade knishes are of the circular variety, bearing little resemblance to the squared-off “Coney Island” knishes provisioned by wholesalers to hot dog carts across the city. Like all knishes, they are dense starch-delivery systems. But a Liebman’s knish is well-seasoned, and its crust is flaky and pastry-like.

With all of his attention focused on food, Dekel says he struggled with the business side of the operation originally. But a loyal base of customers helped him through his mistakes, and the deli has hit its stride again, getting attention from critics and influencers, and even making an appearance on “Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown” in 2014. Dekel is planning to open a Westchester County location this year, marking the first expansion of Liebman’s in its seven-decade history.

It seems only right that Liebman’s should be the last deli in the Bronx. A mid-century time capsule, it was reinvigorated by Israeli cooking and by Dekel’s do-it-yourself spirit. 

“In some cases, being the last one standing doesn’t mean you were the best,” he says. “But I happen to think that we deserve it.”

[saemi-the-writer]

Réamuriel (Réamann/Muriel) in 5 minutes

More info under cut^^

Muriel's hut got a massive upgrade after the two came back from their travel, and since Khamgalai came along, she gave them some advice along with the tapestries they brought back. With Nadia's help (her architectural knowledge and financial help), they also built a small hut for Khamgalai nearby and improved Muriel's bathroom, which stands outside the living part (bedroom + living room + kitchen + dining room). It gives a feeling of "it's bigger on the inside!" afterwards.

Muriel and Réamann share a workshop - painting and instruments for Réa and sculpture for Muriel. Muriel has become the main supplier of various charms for Asra and Niamh's shop, he sometimes gives a hand there as well when the two are on a trip.

Réamann is a vegetarian, but he doesn't impose his feeding regime on either Muriel or Khamgalai, as long as they don't bring the dead animal(s) and skin or prepare it in front of him, he's okay with them eating meat or fish. They use a spell so he doesn't get uncomfortable with the smell when they cook it. However, Muriel and Khamgalai don't eat that much meat - Muriel still loves eels and Khamgalai likes fish dishes - so they share many vegetarian meals together, exchanging recipes, etc.

Muriel discovered he actually likes taking care of his home - being a bit of a househusband - and learnt how to sew and embroidery. He often does needlework in the evening or along with Khamgalai, Inanna resting her head on his knees.

While still reserved and a bit shy, Muriel learnt to open up and shows his affection and love towards Réamann more openly than before. He isn't into huge PDA, but he doesn't mind holding his husband's hand or sharing a quick kiss in public anymore.

Réamann is a tiny bit clingy sometimes, still anxious about losing someone he loves. He can go a bit feral when you insult his loved ones in front of him. That is why he's more likely to die protecting Muriel (it won't happen though).

Yes, Réamann calls Muriel "my Carebear" in private, I regret nothing!! XD

[disturbnot]

He offers a cooked section of dratini meat, the buttery flavor accented with garlic. The skin's golden brown and crispy, the smell very nutrient dense.

IF SUCH EARTHLY DELIGHTS ARE AN ARCEIST SIN, then he will gladly throw himself directly upon the brimstone of the distortion world to taste this again, and again, and again. Red has cooked the meat perfectly, sumptuous skin brought to a crisp in its own rendered fat, salt, fresh garlic and herbs; the thick meat practically melts, it's like velvet on his tongue, exploding with a uniquely meaty umami that only latent dragon energy can boast. He groans.

Ash is in another world for a brief moment; he's young again, he's awake late into the night, trying his mother's latest experimental dish for the restaurant��sleepy eyes so bleary, but he's been looking forward to this all day. That day, the local fishermen caught a few Dratini in their trawl nets, sold them to Delia at a discount in exchange for a hearty meal at the end of a long shift out on the shoals. After the restaurant closed, she retreated to the kitchen, intent on sorcery; it's not every day you get to cook with such a rare kind of meat, after all. She dried the skin and tenderly prepared the meat with butter, soy, garlic, and shichimi; cooked gently and slowly in an oven before being flash seared on her treasured flat-top.

She served it to Ash and Pikachu at the counter, accompanied by the town's favourite fried rice—Ash's preteen legs still dangling above the stool's foot-rest with excitement, gusto, even. Throughout his life, he'd always overheard the locals talk of his mother's unspeakable midas touch in the kitchen, but on this eve, Ash truly understood what they meant.

As Ash savours Red's cooking, he laments the fact the fishermen never caught Dratini in the south bay again after that.

Another bite, he sighs, smiling; such a soft symphony of flavours, sweet memories of home.

" Mmmmm ... finally know how that food critic in Rattatatouille felt, " he hums, full of gratitude. " Y'know we almost served somethin' like this at Pallet House, long time ago. Don't think my mom could ever secure a supplier, but damn ... I almost forgot how it tasted. "