#Dry Red Chili

[comsfy-1g]

[foodflavorin]

South Indian Lemon Rice

[sri-mahalaxmi1]

[skeletonpendeja]

Shit I been cooking lately

[corduroysockz]

My curry smells good i wish mutuals could smell my curry

[hind1agro-food]

[aroyan-org1]

[cornell-ius]

Pingu Bobo-Chi <3

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 7

Hearing the chime of rhe bell above the door, Danny mentally prepared himself before poking his head around the corner "Heya! I will be with you in one hot sec!"

Rushing around the kitchen, Danny set the chili to simmer and quickly cleaned himself up before coming back to greet his newest customer.

Stepping upt to the bar, Danny put his best customer service smile on and opened his mouth to speak, but the words that came out were not in English.

"Hey there! Welcome to Big C's diner what can i..." Blinking a bit before frowning, Danny looked closer at his customer, his eyes flickering a bright green as he squinted at the man.

Because either this man was the very strong revenant that had claimed Crime alley as his huant, or there some how was a 4th Halfa in the world.

---

Jason found the little diner comfortable, more up to date than the typical dive that was in the Alley, there wasn't even any blood splatter in the back booths!

He kinda didn't like how there was only a single person working there at night, being so close to the Alley and all, but that was easily fixed if he just happened to come around in his Red Hood outfit.

Sending a smirk like smile to the teen that came out from the kitchen, who had the fakest smile that Jason had ever seen outside of a gala.

But his smirk slowly slipped as the kid spoke, his words both sounding clear and distorted at the same time, he could make out words but it was very clearly not words at the same time.

Then, the kid's eyes flashed, and Jason had seen those eyes before, he had seen them in the mirror more times than he was willing to admit.

(Holy shit this kid is about to have a Pit episode in front of me...how the fuck did this kid get in the pits?) Jason thought as he leaned back into his seat, his hand instantly going to where his guns usually were, but only grasped at air.

(Right...forgot those at home...) He thought, settling instead to set his hands on the counter, Jason narrowed his eyes at the teen

But just like that, the green was gone, and the teen cleared his throat, "Sorry about that, um, welcome to Big C's, what can I get ya?"

---

Danny gave a weak smile, he didn't exactly want to throw down with this potential halfa, sure he liked a good ghostly welcome every now and again, but he just cleaned up and he would like his diner to stay that way thank you!

The man across from him glared for amoment longer before shaking his head, "Shit, ugh...gimme a coffee and...what's your special today?"

Reaching for the coffee pot, Danny felt a rumble in the diner cart, and there was suddenly a chalk board on the wall behind him.

Pouring his customer a mug, his brain paused for a moment, translating the ghost script before he spoke "Cadavers chili hotdogs, made with 100% not person meat...I promise neither are made out of people, definitely didnt seen any bodies when I made it my guy."

---

Staring at the blackboard that Jason was very much sure wasn't there a moment ago, he felt his chest tighten and ache as he read the...sigils? Words? They were definitely something and he totally shouldn't know what they mean.

Biting back a snort at the dry comment, Jason focused on him "I will take two...Danny? That your name or just the name on the aprin you got?"

Jason was totally not digging for information, because he totally wasn't a Bat or a Bird, and he totally didn't have an urge to know everything about the person across from him.

Getting a dry chuckle from the guy on the other side of the counter, who could only shake his head, "Sadly, that's my name, I will be back in a sec with your food, no running off tho' ya hear? Already dealt with dine and dashers once this week."

Letting out a chuff, Jason kept his eyes around the room, he knew logically he should be more freaked out by this whole experience, but he couldn't help but feel his body relax and his mind comfortable slow.

Holding the cup of coffee in both hands, he took a long sip and memories hit him harder than a crowbar.

It was his mother's coffee, not the bitch that sold him out but his mama, Catherine, the woman that struggled to keep him happy and fed.

It was the watered down brew, stretched to make it last longer.

It was milky and sweet with sugar packets pilfered form diners such as this and powdered milk he used to steal from the grocery store just for her.

His mama gave up so much for him, why couldn't he just do one little petty theft for her?

His heart aches again, and the intense feel of the pits roar in his ears, but they weren't calling for blood, the pits crooned in nostalgic heart break.

Usually remembering before his death was a trigger, was something that made him rage, but right now? He could only mourn for the mother and son that used to cuddle up together under a ratty blanket, of the mother that whispered stories to him during long quiet nights, of the woman that he had found dead on one such quiet night.

---

Tossing on the last bit of fresh diced onions, Danny had a cheesy grin on his face as he brought the plate to the front, mouth opening to speak before noticing his customers disposition.

He was hunched over on himself, looking small (which was impressive for a man thst looked twice his size and 4 times more muscular)

Tears were streaming down his face as he stared at the now half full mug, for some reason it felt heart breaking to see.

Setting the plate down carefully in front of the man, Danny placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay man...your okay bud." Awkwardly Patting his customers shoulder, Danny felt a bit of panic, he wasn't Jazz he didn't know how to like, console people!

It took a few minutes for the man to calm, and Danny handed him a few paper towels to clean himself up, patting him on the back one last time, Danny let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Well...um, hope that the coffee is so bad that it made you cry, I-uhh, could comp it if you want?"

The man just shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, ain't bad, just...God damn it..."

---

Rubbing at his eyes Jason huffed, "Sorry for, um....blubbering on ya like that..

don't usually get teary at coffee, that's more of Timmer's shtick, just tastes...tastes like my mom's coffee when I was a kid..." shaking his head, Jason looked at the chili dogs, they still steamed, the cheese now melted on nicely.

Danny just nodded, "Yeah, some reason i have gotten a few comments on that" shrugging his shoulders, he started to figgle with a cloth, wipping down the counter as he spoke "Meh, Gotham is fucked up and I don't want to even begin to try and figure out."

Croaking out a laugh Jason dragged the plate of food closer, "Fucking right about that...though if you keep making it like that you got yourself a regular customer."

Reaching a hand across the counter, Jason gave Danny a weak smile, "Names Jason, nice to meet ya."

Taking the hand, Danny gave a smirk back, "Got it, one sad cup of coffee for you then-" Snapping his head over as he heard a beeping sound, Danny got a panicked look on his face "Oh shit! My cookies!"

---

Storming to the back, Danny ran to the oven, throwing it open, scrambling for the oven mits, he phased a hand through them instead of tugging them on, and quickly pulls the smoaking batch of sweets from the rack.

Plopping them on the counter, he hears the oven snap shut as he sighs, turning to thank the diner, he pauses to see the sight of a man he was hoping that he would never have to see again.

"Oh little Bager, King of the Realms making food for the common folk? How the great have fallen.." Vald said with a viscous grin, his hand reaching up to flip off the oven, "Did you think I wouldn't find you? Thought you could rum off and not tell dear old Uncle? Don't worry Bager, while old Vlad might not come around to vist much..."

There was a flash of black light and where a man once stood was a ghost, his grin pulled back devilishly "I am sure Plasmius will make up for it very...very well."

---

Laughing a bit as he watched Danny scramble inot the back, Jason stared at the food, he was still hungry but...he held an apprehension of sorts, was this going to bring back memories? Would they be good like the coffee or...

His thoughts were cut off as a body was through through the deviding wall from the front of the house to the kitchen.

Bolting up out of his seat, he watched as Danny stepped out of the hole in the wall, shaking out his fist as he did, "I really don't have the fucking time for you Plasmius, don't you see I have a customer?"

Jason stared as the body that was punched through the wall, that looked mangled, twisted and broken start to twitch and crack back into place, limbs bending back from positions they should never be, and then the man sat up, a feral grin on his lips.

(Really fucking bad day for not having my God damn guns.)

[foodflavorin]

Dry Garlic Chutney Recipe

[skincarebyalex1]

Skincare is Like Cooking—Here’s the Perfect Recipe for Healthy, Balanced Skin 👩‍🍳💆‍♀️

If you wouldn’t randomly throw ten different spices into a dish and hope for a five-star meal, then why are you doing that with your skincare routine? 🤯

Too many actives? Disaster.

Skipping the essentials? Ruined.

Not giving it time to work? Ineffective.

Skincare is like cooking—you need the right ingredients, the right method, and a little patience. Let’s break it down so you can stop overloading your skin and start cooking up a glow. 👩‍🍳✨

Step 1: The Base – Cleansing 🥄

Like every great meal starts with a solid base, your skincare routine starts with cleansing.

❌ The Mistake:

Using a harsh, stripping cleanser that leaves your skin dry and tight. That’s like burning your onions before you even start cooking—the whole dish is ruined!

✅ The Fix:

Choose a gentle, non-stripping cleanser suited for your skin type. Your skin should feel fresh, not overcooked.

💡 Best Cleansers for Your Skin Type:

✔️ Oily Skin? Foaming gel cleansers with salicylic acid.

✔️ Dry Skin? Hydrating cream cleansers with ceramides.

✔️ Sensitive Skin? Fragrance-free, pH-balanced cleansers.

Step 2: The Seasoning – Actives 🌶️

Actives like Vitamin C, Retinol, and AHAs are the seasonings of skincare—they enhance the results, but too much? Disaster.

❌ The Mistake:

Mixing multiple actives without a plan. It’s like adding too much chili powder and salt—you end up ruining the dish (aka your skin barrier).

✅ The Fix:

✔️ Introduce one active at a time to see how your skin reacts.

✔️ Alternate between days—don’t mix Retinol and strong exfoliants in one go.

✔️ Start with low concentrations before going full MasterChef mode.

💡 Pro Tip: If your skin is red, irritated, or flaky—you’ve over-seasoned. Cut back and let your skin recover.

Step 3: The Butter – Moisturizer 🧈

Would you make pasta without sauce? No? Then don’t skip moisturizer—it’s what holds everything together!

❌ The Mistake:

Thinking you don’t need moisturizer because you have oily skin. That’s like serving dry toast—unappetizing and unpleasant!

✅ The Fix:

Every skin type needs hydration. Find a moisturizer that works for you:

✔️ Oily Skin? Lightweight gel-based moisturizer.

✔️ Dry Skin? Rich, ceramide-packed cream.

✔️ Combo Skin? A water-based moisturizer that hydrates without heaviness.

Step 4: The Final Touch – Sunscreen 🔥

This is the most important step. If you skip it, everything else is wasted—just like forgetting to plate your food after all that effort.

❌ The Mistake:

Not wearing sunscreen because it’s cloudy or you’re indoors. That’s like leaving food out and wondering why it spoils.

✅ The Fix:

Apply a broad-spectrum SPF 30+ daily, no excuses! Your future self will thank you.

Quick Recap: The Perfect Skincare Recipe

Here’s your foolproof skincare formula for glowing, healthy skin:

🥄 Step 1: Cleanser = The Base → Use a gentle cleanser that preps your skin.

🌶️ Step 2: Actives = The Seasoning → Introduce ingredients slowly and wisely.

🧈 Step 3: Moisturizer = The Butter → Locks in hydration and balances the skin.

🔥 Step 4: Sunscreen = The Final Touch → Protects everything you’ve worked for!

Final Thoughts: Are You a Skincare Chef or a Skincare Disaster? 🍳🔥

I used to dump actives into my routine like I was seasoning fries—and let’s just say my skin fried too. 😭 Don’t make my mistake.

Skincare is all about balance, patience, and the right combination of ingredients. Follow this “recipe,” and your skin will reward you with a healthy, glowing complexion.

👇 Tell me in the comments: Are you a Skincare Chef 👩‍🍳 or a Skincare Disaster 🔥? Let’s fix your routine together!

[bloodstainedsapphic]

guitar teacher!ellie x smartass!reader thank you for all the meet-cute requests @thatdammchickennugget -- they are my absolute favorite and this one is a classic. i plopped a lot of my real life into this lmao. i kinda wanna do a spicy part 2 here. idk. we'll see!

you wait with bated breath inside the cramped, soundproof lesson room at your local music store, where you signed up on a whim to learn the guitar. it’s an impulse decision, really—all but doomed to be just another tick off the ever-expanding list of random cool skills you’ve tried. at the very least, you hope maybe you can whip this one out to “impress the ladies.” maybe even serenade them with some songs and actually sound good doing it—lord knows many have endured the clunky chords of a red hot chili peppers song from some mediocre man already.

you clutch your new guitar semi-awkwardly, plucking the strings and lightly tapping the cool basswood. you can tell that the tune is off, but damn if you know how to fix it. you wonder if you’ll abandon it after the first 40 minutes, just like most other hobbies you’ve sampled.

in your hasty decision-making, you hadn’t even requested a specific teacher. you’d only ever seen middle-aged men employed here, which is fine. you trust their experience, picturing some warm-hearted old rocker coming in and showing off his tried-and-true tricks. what you don’t expect, then, is when the door opens and a girl your age enters the room, extending her hand to shake yours.

“hi, my name is ellie. you’re the one here to learn guitar, right?”

you shake her hand, eyes glancing over her form, trying not to seem like a dumbfounded creep. jeez, she’s cute. she has reddish-brown hair in a choppy bob, freckled cheeks, green eyes, and a dorky smile. she’s adorned in a faded blue jacket rolled up to her elbows, revealing arm tattoos, and a ragged t-shirt with a band you’ve never heard of. and this is the cutie who will watch you fiddle with out-of-tune strings and act like a complete dumbass? you half hope the ground will swallow you whole.

“yeah,” you manage to reply once you remember how to speak. “that’s me. word of warning: i really don’t know what i’m doing, so i’m, like, a total beginner.”

ellie chuckles reassuringly, likely having heard that tired statement a million times over. she gently picks the guitar up from your lap, inspecting its quality. of course, in her hands, the instrument looks like it was made to be held by her. “hey, that’s fine. everyone starts somewhere, right?” she gets to tuning the strings as naturally as breathing.

“so, what’s got you interested in learning?” ellie suddenly asks, just to fill the dense silence of the room. your mouth runs dry, struggling with a response that doesn’t sound as idiotic as “i’m an obnoxious flirt.” she catches onto your fumbling, adding, “what? wanting to look like a badass guitar god, hm?”

“calling yourself a badass, then?” the tongue-in-cheek question escapes before you can rein it in. ellie pauses her tuning to look up at you, and your heart drops to your stomach. she’s going to kick you out, you reckon.

“i mean… you are staring at me with your mouth open. must be in awe of my guitarist badassery or something. i don’t mind,” ellie replies with a knowing, smug smile, then returns to helping your sorry ass tune up your guitar.

yep, you definitely need that hole in the ground right now.

after that rocky introduction, the lesson takes on a more professional atmosphere, with ellie explaining the basics. she teaches you about the body of the instrument, the strings, and some basic history—you name it, and she knows it. it’s clear that ellie is enthusiastic about the guitar, her interest rubbing off on you, which does not help your case with how cute you already find her.

you try your best to be a good student, which isn’t the energy you typically bring to all your other short-lived courses. there is something special about ellie’s passion—how her lips move as she speaks about it, how her eyes light up, her fingers curling against the strings while demonstrating songs—it compels your attention. you listen respectfully to the multitude of rambles she embarks on and cuts short whenever ellie realizes she has led you too astray from the basics.

at approximately the 38th minute of the 40-minute lesson, you realize that you haven’t attempted to actually play the damn thing. ellie must have come to the same realization, flashing a tilted smile, hoping you aren’t too annoyed that this instructional course devolved into a ted talk, a worry she couldn’t possibly be more wrong about.

ellie assists your clumsy self in positioning the guitar onto your lap, showing you how to hold it correctly. the closeness has your heart racing, and every touch sends shivers through you—you hope the internal gay panic doesn’t translate outwardly. ellie takes her time helping you press your fingers onto the correct strings and frets to play a simple “c chord.” her fingers guiding yours with such precision causes your thoughts to veer into thousands of inappropriate possibilities. the pose feels a tad contorted, your fingers placed in a way totally foreign to you, but her reassurance builds your confidence to try. she crouches before you, making final adjustments before her greens glance back up to you expectantly, waiting for you to try.

you strum the one chord—a passable sound that resonates throughout the guitar. it gets the job done but, of course, lacks the flow that ellie could have had. but ellie is proud, her genuine smile and silly applause flustering you.

you find yourself feeling more accomplished in this single instance than in the last three skills you’ve tried combined.

“good start, guitar god. i’ll show you another one—if you think you’ll stick to a second lesson,” ellie then suggests, an endearing smile on her face as she watches you absent-mindedly fiddle with the individual strings a bit more. an effective bargaining tactic for sure.

“yep, no problem.” easiest commitment you’ve ever made.

"hell yeah," ellie rejoices, reaching out one last time to high-five you. she looks delighted. just happy to have a new, consistent student, of course--that has to be it.

you sign up for another lesson after—and maybe another. and another.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Pasta con Polpo

This hearty dish of Pasta con Polpo is beautifully fragrant and spicy, and makes a delicious and generous lunch. Happy Friday!

Ingredients (serves 3):

2 1/2 cups short pasta (such as penne or rotini)

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 lemon

1 1/2 tablespoon capers

1 large Green Onion

2 large garlic cloves, minced

1/2 teaspoon Red Chili Flakes 

340 grams/12 ounces Cooked Octopus Tentacles 

1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel

1/4 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

1 cup dry white wine (like Pinot Grigio)

a small bunch Garden Parsley 

In a pot of salted boiling water, cook penne according to package’s directions, about 9 minutes until al dente.

In a large, deep skillet, heat olive oil over medium-high heat.

Grate in the zest of half the lemon; fry, 1 minute.

Drain capers and finely chop them. Add to the skillet. Fry, 1 minute more.

Thinly slice Green Onion, saving a bit of its green part, and stir into the skillet. Cook, a couple of minutes until softened.

Add Red Chili Flakes, and cook, another minute.

Cut Octopus into small bits, and stir into the skillet, coating well in herbs, spices and oil. Cook, 5 minutes, stirring often until just browning. Season with fleur de sel and black pepper.

Deglaze with Pinot Grigio, and bring to a slow boil. Reduce heat to medium, and simmer, 5 minutes, until reduced a bit.

Finely chop Garden Parsley.

Once the penne are cooked, drain quickly, saving about 1/3 cup of the cooking water, and stir both into the octopus sauce, until the pasta is beautifully coated.

Thoroughly squeeze in the juice of the whole lemon. Give a good stir. Stir in chopped Parsley.

Serve Pasta con Polpo hot, sprinkled with reserved chopped green part of the Green Onion, and a glass of chilled dry white wine, like Pinot Grigio.