#Grand Gourmet Heat Plate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

claudiasjeancregg · 3 years ago

Note

For the Gilmore Girls AU if you’re so inclined: “Shhh, they’ll hear us.”

“Shhh, they’ll hear us,” CJ whispered frantically.

Toby rolled his eyes, but obeyed. They had been hiding for what felt like hours, ever since Donna and Josh had burst into the diner— his diner— half wasted and fully oblivious to the two of them.

Toby had been working all night, nearly ready to close when CJ had burst into his diner with a look that promised mischief. She had dragged him out from behind the counter and announced her grand present: a fully cooked meal.

Toby had stared at her.

“CJ, you’re absolutely horrible at cooking.”

She gasped— “How dare you? I’ll have you know that I’m an amazing cook.”

She paused, and then sunk down into a seat at the counter.

“Okay, no, I’m a horrible cook. But I’ve been taking lessons!”

“When? In between business school, running an inn, and raising your daughter?”

CJ looked at him sheepishly, trying not to notice the ease with which he read off her schedule— “Well, when I say lessons...”

“You mean Donna sent you a frozen gourmet meal with written instructions on how to warm it up.”

“Bingo! Give the gentleman a car!” she burst out.

They stood there in silence for a second, and her face began to drop. Her confidence had slowly disappeared from her face as he drew the truth out of her, until all that was left were her fragile, wide eyes.

He hated this, hated seeing her as someone breakable. CJ was invincible, she was unstoppable. And the fact that he had caused her to doubt herself, even for a second, made him nauseous.

“Sorry. That’s probably stupid, I just wanted to thank you for the chuppah and, well, everything—“

“It isn’t stupid.”

He tilted her face up with a gentle finger, reveling in the familiarity of looking up at her.

“It’s perfect. No one’s ever really cooked for me before- or, you know, had their best friend cook and pass it off as their own.”

“I wasn’t passing it off! I was 100 percent honest. Once you asked.”

He shook his head fondly, and started to unpack the huge box she had carried in. CJ stilled him with a hand on his, stopping his hand but doing nothing to help his incessant heartbeat.

“You, sit.”

She pointed firmly to a chair all the way across the room, and he rolled his eyes.

“I may not be able to cook, or clean, for that matter. But I can prepare food. So you sit over there and don’t say a word until I hand you this exquisite plate, got it?”

“You can’t order me around in my own diner, woman.”

“You love it,” she smirked.

Toby felt his cheeks heat up, the way they always did when she flirted with him. He couldn’t argue with that.

He busied himself by sitting at the counter, ignoring her choice of table. Besides, he liked watching her. CJ’s eyes were focused and her hands were working quickly— she was in her element.

Despite having absolutely no mastery of cooking, she ended up arranging a lot of meals at the inn when Donna was backed up in the kitchen. She loved tweaking and arranging them until they were perfect— but more than that, she loved the look on the guest’s faces when they were handed those plates. Toby didn’t disappoint.

About 10 minutes later, once the meal had been warmed and fried and fully cooked, she handed him his plate with a grin. His face lit up, and CJ could feel her stomach drop out from under her.

His smile was like a candle— slow-burning and delicate, but never failing to set her heart aflame.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Anytime.” Her hand curled around the edge of the counter. CJ felt herself leaning in, though she couldn’t remember when she decided to move.

The moment was broken by the sound of the bell, and she gasped, dragging the plate and the man and bolted behind the counter.

“Ow!” Toby yelped. CJ shushed him fiercely, still listening for any indication of who their uninvited guests were.

“Josh, stop!” she heard someone giggle.

Toby sighed. That was just their luck— the happiest couple in the world, coming to interrupt their… whatever this was.

And now, they were here. Toby managed to stay silent for about three seconds before giving up.

“CJ,” Toby whispered, “Why the hell are we hiding?”

He tried to stand up and she pulled him down forcefully.

“You know, I’m beginning to feel unsafe near you,” he grumbled.

“We can’t just get up. Donna will see us together and—“

“Doesn’t she already know? I mean, she cooked the meal.”

CJ stayed silent.

“CJ,” he started.

“Okay! Fine.” She paused. “I might have told Donna it was a meal for me and Claudia.”

He stared at her, eyes dark with years of unspoken words.

“Are you ashamed of me, Claudia Jean?”

It was a joke, she knew, but it didn’t feel like one.

CJ’s breath hitched. “No, I— God, no, Toby. That’s not it at all. It’s just, she would have made assumptions, and she would have bothered both of us about it.”

“What assumptions?” A smile played on his lips.

The asshole was making her spell it out.

“Oh, shut up,” she scoffed. “Donna thinks, I don’t know, that you have a thing for me.”

Toby didn’t say anything, and at first CJ thought he was mad. The finger to his lips said otherwise, though, and the two of them stood still for a minute as Donna and Josh got closer to the counter.

“Should we be here?” They heard Josh ask lazily.

Toby’s eyes met hers, both thinking the same thing— No.

She tuned in just in time to hear Josh’s words.

“Toby,” He laughed. “Toby would kill us if he knew we were here after closing, though. That man needs to get laid!”

Feeling herself start to break down, CJ threw a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh from erupting.

Damn, CJ thought to herself. Drunk Josh had no filter at all— as compared to Normal Josh, who had a filter about 20 percent of the time.

She could hear Donna agreeing, but the sound didn’t register as she focused completely on Toby’s face. He seemed to be completely lost in thought, now, and for a second she hoped she forgot about what she had said moments earlier. Even if he had, the next words out of Donna’s mouth proved the universe wasn’t on her side today.

“CJ might take care of that. Have you seen the way they look at each other? God, it’s like a band about to snap with all that tension.”

She felt her cheeks go bright red, and sensed Toby doing the same next to her.

“CJ—”

“I, uh, I have to go.”

She couldn't stop and think, because then she would think about the way her name felt in his mouth. The way his mouth held her name close, like she was safe. She was always safe with Toby. How she wanted to drown in the curve of the C and the beautiful, rich sound of the J. God, she could live in those letters.

She couldn’t look at him. She needed to get out— back home to her daughter, her perfect, lonely bed, and her normal life. These stupid feelings weren’t doing anything but confusing her.

CJ grabbed her purse and stood up, trying to ignore the way Toby lightly grabbed her hand to stop her. Donna and Josh pulled apart like two opposing magnets when they noticed her, wordless for a full second.

“CJ! Oh my god!” Donna stumbled over her words, clearly disheveled from the clear not-talking her and Josh had been doing in the diner.

“I, wait, have you been—”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she choked out, and ran.

CJ had no idea why she was getting so emotional over— well, nothing. Nothing had happened, that was the problem. Or not a problem exactly, just... a situation.

A situation she had been avoiding for years, at this point. And maybe she was a little tired of talking around the way he looked at her when she was on her second cup of coffee or the simple way he dropped everything to help her when she needed it. Maybe she wanted to talk about it, for a change.

CJ felt the cold air of Stars Hollow hit her like a wake-up call. She sighed. She’d been avoiding it for years. What was a few days more?

#OKAY I DID IT #THIS WAS SURPRISINGLY HARD #AND HASNT BEEN EDITED AT ALL IM SORRY #i love some of it #but i just want to get this out there hahaha #thank you for the amazing prompt jess!!!#this is once again in the #tww gilmore girls au #aleena writes #feedback is greatly appreciated!!!!#tww fic #fic tag #aleena answers #jess tag #cj x toby #toby x cj

12 notes · View notes

airiustide · 5 years ago

Note

Zutara writing prompt request- Zuko and Katara hook up after a fire nation ceremony... short while after she finds out she’s pregnant?

A/N: Hey, anon! So, instead of doing what you requested, this whooooole thing turned into fluff, (with a few hints *whink whink*) nonetheless, it turned out sweet, with the right amount of flirtiness, and zuko giving lots of kisses.

Summary: Three months after a one night stand and Zuko doesn’t know how to face Katara. Not enough alcohol could give him the courage to confess just how much that night had conjured dormant feelings. But it just might be enough to take in what he learns next.

He couldn’t concentrate clearly with everyone conversing so loudly. Space invaded by acquaintances and strangers alike. The grand ballroom was occupied by guests, a summit held with the world’s highest officials and leaders. Weeks of endless meetings and settled treaties finally moved to an evening filled with loud music and gourmet food. Every face he came across was a blur. His eager gaze sweeps across the extravagant room, draped in the gold and red of his nation’s colors.

Where was she? He repeated to himself, looking around anxiously, palms sweaty. There was a thundering in his ears and Zuko’s heart drummed in his chest. He swallowed the remaining contents of his ninth cup of wine, swiftly dismissing anyone who attempted to grasp his attention whilst he maneuvered the room in search of the one person he had been working so hard to find since this whole thing started.

He could very well be kidding himself. Selfishly thinking that after all this time she might have a semblance of feelings for him as he did for her. Or perhaps sleeping with her before confessing only made him come off pathetic.

He was going to lose his mind thinking about it. Zuko rubbed a hand down his face, starting to feel shame swell in his chest. Why? Did he really fuck things up that bad? He’s always done his best not to let things eat at him, but Katara wasn’t just anything or anyone, for that matter.

If she wasn’t there when he was at his lowest; vulnerable and despondent, maybe things would’ve turned out different. Day after day spent between the throne room and his chambers only to end it with...himself. The loneliness settled in like a dark mass, weighing heavily on his person. And on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance, it all came tumbling down with a tall glass of fire whiskey and the lips of the waterbender who shared it with him.

She tasted sweet despite the heat of the liquor. His name hit his lips hotly from her mouth, a pleasant mewl that coaxed him closer and closer. Wiping away the heaviness that tore him day in and day out. Whether it was the alcohol or it was a fleeting act of emotions, Zuko couldn’t accept either. Though, he couldn’t speak for Katara. Maybe he was the only one reading deeper into this than necessary.

The thought had him needing to replace his empty cup of wine for another. Reaching out as a waiter crossed him with a gold-plated tray filled with goblets, Zuko didn’t calculate the proper distance between him and the tray, accidentally knocking it over along with the waiter. In his hazy state, the young Fire Lord attempts to stop the waiter from meeting the floor by grabbing his collar and, instead, falls right on top of him.

Wine spilled, and goblets clanged. Zuko’s face goes red hot, utterly horrified at his clumsy, drunken state. With the aid of nearby guests both him and the waiter were helped to their feet. A quick apology and a bow, and Zuko rushes out of the room, clinging to the chest of his soaked royal robes.

“Woah, there!” A familiar voice stops him in his tracks. A gentle hand flattening against his strong chest ignites a well known spark. “And where do you think you’re going in that state, Fire Lord?”

He looks down to find Katara’s teasing smile, the smile reaching her radiant eyes and accenting the glow of her features. The dress she wore was lined with fur and embroidered in tribal designs. Her hair was left in chocolate waves and pinned to the side to fall over her left shoulder. It steals his breath and suddenly all his nerves go haywire. “I-I-”

Katara’s face turns into concern. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

Zuko inhales, gathering his composure and bows formally to Katara’s surprise. “Ambassador Katara. Welcome back. How was your visit home?”

“Umm, I’m not against formalities, but I don’t think now is the time for that. We should get you cleaned up.” She takes his arm, nodding her head at Zuko’s guards who witnessed the scene of their Lord’s incident, taking the indication that they should return to their post and that the Master waterbender had it from here. “Geez, Zuko, you smell like booze.” She pointed, lifting his arm around her shoulder and leading him out of the ballroom.

“Well, I did just take a bath in wine.” He scoffed.

She rolls her eyes. “I mean your breath, silly. You smell like you consumed a winery.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He quipped, a slur left his lips, causing Katara to laugh.

“It is when you do it without me.”

Zuko’s temperature spiked, pulsing in the center of his stomach and leaving a tingling in the pit of his abdomen. Katara cleared her throat, feeling his skin go hot and squeezing his arm to get him to calm down.

“Getting a little too excited, I see.” He was terribly adorable when he was flustered. She blushed as well, repeating the words in her head and recalling the events that led from a single bottle to his bed. His hot touch; his tongue in her mouth, on her skin, her palm, her thighs, her-

She comes to when they approach his chambers, her first thought was to take him to bed but changed her mind when she’s reminded of the dried wine sticking to his clothes, skin and hair. “Bath.” She tells him, getting Zuko to help work their way to the washroom because he started to get heavy.

The stonework to the large room took Katara’s breath away. It was as big as a pool in a hot spring. A set of doors led to a private patio, closed off to the outside world and surrounded by orchids, arranged stones and luscious green leaves. Probably a good place to mediate, Katara thought.

She lays him carefully on a lounge chair, removing the armor from his shoulders and wrists. Zuko doesn’t take his eyes off her; taking in every touch of her hands as she removes his sash, and unwraps his outer robe. Fingers unintentionally brush his collarbone as they work open his tunic, coming down to remove his boots. Katara catches him staring as she goes to release his hair and crown from his topknot.

“Soft.” He hums, a lopsided smirk directed at Katara.

She chuckles, cupping his cheek. “Don’t get flirty, Fire Lord, only one of us is inebriated.” He hisses when her fingers hook into his trousers and jerks them off with a tug.

“Katara!” He shrieked, provoking the waterbender to lose it after he instinctively went to cover his crotch. The jolt of cold air and the realization that he was now naked knocked him slightly sober.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. Aside from already having had a good look at what’s between your legs, on numerous occasions, mind you.” She grinned. “Being a healer means I’ve seen plenty of the male anatomy, more than I can count. Let’s get you clean, shall we.”

Katara helps him to the bath, holding his hand as he submerged himself in water, still covering himself with his free hand. Coming back up, he wipes his eyes and slicks back hair away from his face. Once he’s seated, she removes her slippers, lifting up her dress and dipping her feet in the water with a sigh. “Now that’s better.”

A quiet falls in the room as steam rises; thick, most likely from Zuko’s embarrassment. He’d never looked so red from the face down.

“You never wrote back.” He murmured, so low that Katara didn’t catch it at first.

He watched her shift uncomfortably, ruffling her hair of water droplets, the steam making her tresses thick and wavy. Zuko half expected her to ignore the subject, or a part of him hoped she would. What if he was coming off too strong? Or worse, desperate.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to…” She started. “A lot has been going through my mind. I needed some time to...process.”

Zuko swallowed thickly, casting his gaze down to the water, watching as it tinted red from the wine that clung to his skin and hair. “I get it.”

“Do you?” She asked, tone serious and brow furrowed.

“I-” He looked up at her, confused. Her expression was that of disappointment. “No, I guess I don’t. Not from your end at least. Yet, I had some hope you would clarify that for me, so I'm not here thinking that the last three months you had come to hate me.”

“What?!”

“It’s unfair to expect me to empathize with you after sleeping together then never hearing from you again. I’m not very good at reading between the lines, Kat. Yeah, sleeping with me was probably the dumbest thing to do. But I have feelings t-”

“I’m pregnant, Zuko.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I- come again?”

Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, eyes squinting as though she might start to cry. “I’m pregnant.”

Zuko’s voice caught in his throat, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “It’s-it’s mine?”

She shot him a glare.

“It’s mine.” He repeated. “It’s mine.” In a daze, he crosses the water toward Katara, first reaching out to grasp the hand covering her mouth, lacing it in his own. Blue eyes finally look up to find a smiling Zuko. How can he take the news without an ounce of worry?

“You’re drunk.” She excused for him, dismissing his overly happy expression.

“I’m drunk, that doesn’t mean I’m incomprehensible.”

“You might change your mind in the morning.”

“I won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you?” Zuko countered, brow arched. “Want to know how I know?”

Katara cocks her head, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Because of this.” He leans in to brush a kiss below her ear, eliciting a spark on her skin. “And this.” His smile widens when he kisses her forehead, a gasp leaving Katara’s lips. “And this.”He hums, pressing his lips to her cheeks, chin and then, finally, lips; an airy kiss that left her wanting more.

His mouth makes a path to her right arm, stopping to display an especially sensual one to the palm of her hand. “Zuko.” She moaned, shaking all the way to her knees.

Logic screamed at her that this was her best friend. And though their one night stand opened up the truth to how she felt about Zuko, getting pregnant was not in the cards. The first thing she wanted to do upon her return from home was confess but fate had other plans. Every thought, from the possibility that Zuko might think she was trying to trap him to her resigning from Ambassador to raise the baby in secret, ran through her head. It took more courage than she cared to mention just to show up at the summit. She was an Ambassador, regardless of her situation, she couldn’t not show up.

As she tried to make sense of this, all the while, Zuko had lifted her dress just above her belly, gently pushing down on her shoulder, coaxing her to lie on her back. It was like he was in a trance, hands caressing the flat of her belly. Pregnancy was hardly noticeable at this stage. He didn’t seem to care, pressing butterfly kisses all over until it was too much and Katara started to giggle from the ticklish pecks and breathy whispers he made to the little one in her belly. Expressing how he couldn’t wait to meet them.

“You’re out of your mind.” Katara teased, combing her fingers through his long, silky hair. The panic she experienced moments ago began to dissolve.

Zuko makes a goofy grin, resting his cheek on her stomach. There weren't enough words or actions to express how happy he was. Only an hour ago, he was just a lonely man with little to look forward to. Now he has gained a family. “Only for you. That is, if you’re all in.”

Hurdles were bound to be faced. Katara’s life would change drastically. They didn’t have the first clue on how to make this work, but by the Spirits they would figure this out. This was them after all, Zuko and Katara. That’s all they needed to get a head start. “I’m in.”

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zuko #katara #zuko x katara #alta #fanficiton #request #anon #drabble #steam baby

102 notes · View notes

exosmuttytalk · 4 years ago

Text

Jackie

Characters: Kim Jongin x Do Kyungsoo

Genre: AU!Fluff, maybe some smut at the end, but don’t know yet.

Word count: ~1600 words

Summary: Kyungsoo lives with his cat which is more problems than joy. Jongin has just moved into the house next door.

A/N: This is going to be a little series with an still undefined number of chapters to it. If you have read Guardian you probably know where the name Jackie comes from and I like you very much :3

I woke up in the morning getting my toe licked. For many people, this could a promising way of starting the day, but that was not the case. As the night progressed I had slid further down the bed so that my right foot was dangling off the edge of the bed. My annoying cat, who by then had been on a diet for a grand total of eight days, had a very early internal clock and knew when it hit exactly 6 am to come and complain because her breakfast is not on her bowl. I have to give credit to her though; she started off slow, just by licking my toe as a warning, before trying to open-mouth maul it.

“Fuck off, Jackie.” I grunted as my leg recoiled under the duvet and I pulled it up to cover my head.

Her obvious next step was hopping onto the bed and walking all over me. Most of the times, cats waking their owners up videos are cute and adorable, but that was not necessarily the reality.

Jackie came home when my brother moved countries to work and she needed a new, loving home. I wouldn’t say I fit that criteria completely, but maybe like 50% of it. Either way, she took quite a long time to adapt to his new home and at the beginning, I was barely able to convince her to stay indoors. That caused her a lot of stress and, according to the vet, she ended up eating everything edible she could find and hunt outside. Who would’ve thought cats could have mental problems as well. So she had to be put on a diet, the gate from the kitchen had to be removed and she started getting used to waking me up but sitting her whole nine kilo self on top of my belly.

I pushed her off me to the other side of the bed but sat up on the edge of it anyway. The alarm was going off in an hour and a half anyway.

I could feel Jackie’s fur brushing against my back, slyly pushing me off the bed. As I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen, she was almost walking between my legs, so had to jump off the last couple steps to avoid falling.

Her veterinary told me to buy a certain type of food that had to be heated up, so I killed time throwing a ball across the kitchen which Jackie would then lazily fetch around the room but never actually return. Bowl on hand, I tried to command her to sit, but she only looked at me with round eyes and meowed insistently. I sighed and put the plate down after giving a quick stroke along her loin.

After I got dressed and closed everything up so Jackie wouldn’t stand a chance, I went for a quick stroll around my neighborhood. I was fairly new to this place, having moved into a residential area from the business part of the city, but despite that, I had already made friends with the old lady who lived next door and who never seemed to sleep and neighbors on the other side, the young couple with a little kid who actually just moved away last week. I liked them all fairly well, but although houses here have a pretty sizeable lawn and are at a distance from each other, I could hear their cute baby crying during the nights at times. Sun was already rising when I came back home from my walk and saw a moving van parking in front of the unoccupied house.

…………..

Six in the morning. Again. I’m wrong, it’s 6:02. Jackie must have enjoyed sleeping in.

After having had a particularly awful meeting at work the previous day, I had come home last night and barely cared to cook, so I ordered a pizza and opened a plain can of tuna for Jackie. This morning, she would be getting a gourmet treat, as I was going to make small croutons out of the leftover pizza crusts and add them to her wet food. She may like the crunch, let’s hope she doesn’t crack a tooth.

I had only bothered hiding the crusts from her before I went to bed the night before, quite late after I stood up watching a rerun of a show from before I was born. Pillows were all over the place and the empty box was still on top of the table next to a couple cans of stuff I chugged yesterday. I decided it would be future Kyungsoo’s problem and groggily walked towards the shower.

Future Kyungsoo sighed so hard when he came back home at 7 pm and saw what the other guy had left for him. Postponing wasn’t really an option anymore, so I decided to go for a full room cleanup instead.

I was surprised when I moved the pillows around and Jackie didn’t come zooming out from whatever corner to fight me for it. Despite having a cushiony bed, despite my attempts at making her not do it, she always managed to steal random pillows and hoard them at different places around the house.

This was quite a big house, she could be hiding at the bedroom pillows instead. Despite that, I went looking around every corner and under every piece of furniture, to no avail. I was starting to feel a bit nervous, I thought she had already adapted to being home? My gaze wondered across the room until it found a window ajar. I had opened a little this morning to let the steam of the shower come out and forgot to close it. And Jackie had probably jumped out through it. Despite her weight, Jackie was still pretty agile, and there was a tree branch reaching out not far from the windowsill.

Shit, shit, shit. I ran downstairs and hurriedly opened the kitchen door that led to the backyard. I turned the lights on but they couldn’t do much against the darkness of late fall evenings. I pulled out my phone to turn the flashlight on and started calling for Jackie. My voice rose as I looked around the bushes and found nothing. I heard movement behind me but it turned out to be nothing but a squirrel that was lucky Jackie wasn’t around.

“Hey!” A voice not higher than a talking tone said from behind the right side fencing. “I think this is may be yours.”

I rushed to the fence and as soon as I glanced over it I saw Jackie delicately sitting down on top of the only cushion on the whole porch swing. That little shit.

The second thing I noticed was the guy who had given me the heads up. He looked to be around my age, had light brown hair, slightly tanned skin and was wearing what seemed to be loungewear in old sweatpants and an oversized, seemingly fluffy dark red jumper.

“I was just here having a beer and her cute head popped up from that hole over there!” The new guy pointed at a hole in the fence that indeed connected both houses.

“Oh. I’ll have to get that repaired…”

“I can do it, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t want to waste your time…”

“You’re not. We just moved in and I still need to find a job here, so in the meantime I have plenty of it.” He smiled brightly at me and he seemed so self assured I didn’t want to refuse anymore.

“I’m sorry, she shouldn’t be out, but she sneaked through a window I left open. May I come in and pick her up?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I can do that for you.” Then, as if it was as easy as picking up a flower, he walked up to Jackie and picked her up. With both arms. And she even dared to cuddle up against him.

He then handed her to me over the fence, cupping her butt and tail with his big hand in order to avoid her scratching herself against the wood.

“She never lets anyone pick her up so easily.”

“Ahh, it’s a she! I was calling her a good guy when he was sitting with me. I’m sure she’s liked the food, though.”

“The food? Which food?”

“Well, she was just chilling around the yard, so I went in to take the beer. She was on top of the table and already biting some of the food, so I figured since it was already ruined, it didn’t matter if she ate more,” he shrugged. “She seemed to like it.”

“How can you just go around feeding other people’s pet like that? What if they’re sick or allergic?”

“Oh, mmm… I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was your cat and not just any street cat. Cats can eat all food, right?”

“What did she eat?”

“Almost half a chicken sandwich. Roasted chicken, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and cheese,” he recited looking anxious. Roasted chicken and vegetables wasn’t the worst option.

“I tried to feed her a chip as well, but she didn’t take it.”

The look on my face must have been unpleasant enough to make him falter a bit.

“I’m really sorry! Do you think she’s going to be okay? How can I make it up to you?”

“It’s alright,” I said as I started to make my way back home. “She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure to lock the windows properly next time.”

___________________

Jackie II

MASTERLIST!?

Other Kaisoo and Ksoo business

Everyday OC/Fluff/One Shot

Stories of my downfall Kaisoo/Fluff/Angst/One Shot

Tag list:

@exosmutxoxo

19 notes · View notes

lilithnewzealand · 5 years ago

Text

Outlasting the darkness: lessons of six Scottish winters

A view towards the Isle of Mull from its neighbor island, Kerrera--spring

I begin these winter musings in the final weeks of the American summer. Light is waning, and we splash one last time in the magnificent lake, pretending that the golden heat of this muggy, molten season will live on forever. In reality, the earth in its tilted run is already siphoning the minutes off the days. We can no longer reliably plan late evening BBQs around our garden’s shady oak tree, for it will already be dark by 7pm in these last weeks of August. Suddenly, we’re careening into the hectic, school-filled days of early September. One or two punctilious neighbors have already mutinously exchanged flip-flop door wreaths for pumpkins and gourds. I know that in the weeks to come, a veritable sea of hay bales and potted autumnal mums will sprout up in pleasant but unoriginal beatification of this dying season.

Chrysanthemums seem seductive envoys of death, cultivated to bloom only in hues mirroring those of a mature leaf’s swan song—pear-like yellows, burnt oranges, reds umbers, and even crackling browns. Flowers that are unwelcome and doer in the heady exuberance of spring find themselves the befitting adornment of atrophy and waning. Festive gourds, Halloween treats, and crisply weathered hayrides ease us like a conciliatory lullaby into the season that flows towards the utter darkness of the northern hemisphere’s agonizing winter solstice.

I will admit that It is not beyond me to pray, to beseech, to quietly plea for something as elementary as winter sun. Just as I pray quirky prayers that as a Western populace we’d forgo ease and profit for truly earth-honoring, nutrient rich, non-carenogenic farming, or that God would bring suffering children out from pain and fear this night, or for a friend who’s mother no longer lives, so I whisper this prayer for the mercy of winter light. I lift my voice in an entreaty that as the icy air stings our braced, pale faces, and layers panoply our bodies, that the far off winter sun with its weakened winter force would reign over our sky.

I come to these prayers with memories of winter’s capacity for mental woundedness. For six long seasons, I lived as a young adult through the insanity inducing darkness of west coast Scotland’s seemingly amaranthine, sodden winters. While before my travels I had known in theory that places such as Finland, Alaska, and Russia endured a departed sun for seasons together, I was wholly unprepared for the true, if somewhat functional insanity human beings endure when caught in the grip of a dark, far north winter. I had come to a country whose springs and summers produced some of the most stunning landscapes on earth, but whose winters’ lightlessness and wet stung the equilibrium of every cogent citizen. At ten steps beyond cozy indoor lounging, and peaceful snow-filled Saturdays, winter in the Scottish city I’d called home was, in my experience, something to survive, like an ancient, enveloping, heavy, returning foe. This is my small tale of everyday endurance.

When I left east coast America for Glasgow, Scotland in 2005 as an energetic, adventure-seeking twenty-two year old graduate student, I only vaguely considered British lore of generally omniscient rain and mist. If tea and scones accompanied that promised rain, I felt equal to its challenge. After all, I was no stranger to varieties of weather. We of the American Northeast gloried in the wonder of nature’s four faces, and cherished each one’s splendor.

Not we the soft, milk toast citizens of mild Florida, with its perpetual clemency like the slog of a meteorological purgatory, never proceeding from heaven into hell, or fleeing hell into the promise to heaven (apart from those apocalyptic moments of hurricane decimation, to be fair!). Nor were we the unfathomable folk who think it prudent to nurture community so far north as to warrant cars block heaters and homes with double heating systems. Surely a routine -30 F was nature’s indication, to western folk at least, that such landscapes as Alaska or Manitoba were not intended for human flourishing!

For all the variety of season, one reasonable constant was sunshine. From fifteen hours of committed, humid sunlight in the height of a suburban Philadelphia summer to a mere, miserable nine hours mid-December, with sunsets slipping down by 4.36pm instead of summer’s 8.32pm, the sun still at least shone weakly and cruelly in winter. How different it all was just across the pond where dramatic lochs lay and bagpipers piped.

In the beginning, my new young adult life in the art-loving, gritty, dually medieval and Victorian city of Glasgow proved mostly splendid. The beauty of nearby Hebridean islands, hill walking, and Harry Potteresque Edinburgh all soothed the longing I’d followed for vivid, three-dimensional encounter with everything I’d seen on the countless BBC murder mysteries and Jane Austen adaptions. With ceilidhs to dance, coffee shops to visit, curry to discover, and accents to unpack, the insidious impact of a profound lack of vitamin D3 upon my skin and in my body went under my radar. My mind perhaps registered the lack of sun, but only to complain or “winge” of its inconvenience, as the Scots would say. Surely, the November sky was darker than I’d ever known, but there was a jolly Burns night feast to attend, and a grotesque Haggis to address and devour.

Loch Katrine, July

Soon, alongside studies, I had found work at an inner city hotel’s vivacious restaurant. The job stretched my world from church and post-graduate university to the bustling business district of that medieval city. Working the evening shift at the flashy five-star hotel’s eatery, I saw business executives live in rooms week-to-week as their veritable second home, while lush, pleasure-seeking weekend holiday makers shifted the energy to indulgence come weekends. Often, I’d wake from a drug-like sleep the next afternoon in recovery from a previous night’s early morning finish. Weary from consecutive hours of cultivating restaurant elegance on the ground floor, while then frantically couriering steaming room service to more private, weary, or work burdened guests on upper floors, we topped long evenings with free beers and huge communal plates of greasy chips in the wee hours. Night after night, we sat like those participating in a greasy, ritualistic, pagan Scottish communion, where no one but me remembered Jesus’ body and blood.

As the sun glowed a very muted gray buzz across the daytime sky, I’d then half glimpse two hours of cloudy half-light before diving back into the murky cave of our sophisticated but windowless hotel restaurant. Here, I served Scottish rack of lamb to the lonely Welsh businessman, or waited upon the elderly far north Scot who kept the chefs in their windowless aluminum kitchen interested in life by routinely ordering the “special” of the day, chased down by an elegant but heavy triple Laphroig. We’d watch this distinguished man canter very intentionally, like a lad pulled over for his sobriety test, back across the street to the more budget hotel where he slept off this gourmet evening, ready for the following day’s to work on Scottish Educational databases.

When I’d dart out to the wide atrium bar for a diner’s wine or beer in winter, not a spot of sunlight could be seen after 3.30pm, despite the 25 foot floor-to-ceiling windows that invited every ray of lingering sun. Blackness framed the football (soccer!) fans zealously bedecked in their ribald sporting colors, marching drunkenly through the streets to and from pubs screening their games. Their glamor and serious fervor was like a shout of resolve against the depressing dimness.

As I raced along hotel corridors with my dented aluminum room service trolley and my tender, undying hopes of a small cash tip, I’d consume any glimpses of light or sky in passing windows. The mournful beauty of gulls swooping in the inky night’s electric semi-glow is my salient memory of visual grace on these long roomservice patrols along unrelieved gray corridors. Arriving at the penthouse suite on such a preternaturally shaded evening, burdened with the happy, hot, succulent roast chicken for Tony Bennett or hot chocolate and scrambled eggs for Jermaine Jackson and his shy, Caucasian girlfriend, I would sometimes pity the confusion I imagined these grand American stars must feel in our dark cityscape. Why would a civilization choose to stay and inhabit such a gritty and preternaturally dark island? On the surface of things, our commitment to this dim, soggy winter space seemed bewildering and foolishly patriotic.

Wrapped in the stalwart blanket of Scottish pride, Scots rarely discussed why they stayed at all, or how they survived. A tale of explanation that I once read was that in former generations the peoples occupying the coastal lands had found the atmospheric shoreline and islands habitable by aid of their vitamin D3 rich fish, seaweed, and cod liver oils. These they kept in a vat of fermenting sea fruits near the door of their mud-made huts. Oozing the invaluable nectar D3–liquid sunlight in food form--these earlier chiefs and clanspeople weathered the darkness abetted by foodstocks most natural to human survival in their particular climate. Did some of this impulse survive in the English and Scottish default to fish and chips on any possible occasion? In America, we grab burgers or sushi on the run. In Scotland, folk did a wee nip doon to the chippie, perhaps in an unconscious genetic compulsion back towards the fish liver oil origins enabling their earlier mental survival.

Modern-day Scotland offered not so much a supplemental strategy, as a mission of pitiable smothering —endurance through camaraderie and pub life. In short, we drank the winter away. The prevalence of alcohol, clubbing, and more alcohol, to forget or enliven the threatening, consuming darkness was farught reality. This turn to the wine, the jack and cokes, the gin and tonics, and what became gallons of hard cider was followed, inevitably, by pursuit of deliciously repulsive fried food. A vivid memory of a winter’s evening during my university years in Glasgow was standing with friends in a grease-filled chip shop at 3 am, where a sober, level-headed, but smirking shop owner in turban and mustache served the scantily dressed, blitzed, and literally tottering western “Christian” guests a zero nutrient meal of hot chips (fries), with the chip shop’s familiar grayish green anointing curry. Indeed, a mini industry had sprung around the predictable depression of winter-bound, partying Scots—that of chippies and fish shops, open into the wee hours of the morning. By the end of six years in Glasgow, I stood well aware of the national sting of alcoholism, but certainly, and sadly, not without understanding.

I paint with broad strokes here, of course. These are memories mainly from days spent among hotel friends and university colleagues. My church friends weathered the winter rather more sedately, but not without a wee nip to get through the days, and certainly with a lion’s share of fish and chips. West Wing DVD binges, evening parties of games and “chewing the fat” (fun, leisurely chat), and mini-breaks for those who could afford to flee the gray all sustained the less alcohol prone types, as we grinned and struggled to bear the black winter away.

For myself, winterizing our let Scottish flat remained central to my mental survival. There is such a thing as cutting off your arm to spite your face. And, there is such a thing as having no good choices. When the darkness of a Scottish winter crept into Glasgow like the angel of death looking for blood on the lintels of homes, I was living with two American expatriate friends in a grand West End Glasgow flat. A magnanimous blonde stone mansion that had once outfitted an oil or railway baron of sorts in one of Glasgow’s poshest neighborhoods had now been sequestered into four elegant westend Glasgow flats. By some beneficence I still thrall to remember, we three American post-grad students had obtained “letting” rights to this splendor over a small host of other applicants. During spring, summer, and into autumn, we were the envy of all we knew. Our sprawling lounge with its twelve foot high bay window allowed in light, images of foliage, and the sound of children at play on the grounds of their expensive public (private) school across the way.

As winter crept through, however, opulent settings that had once framed our elegant spring view transmogrified to the Achilles heel of wellness and peace. My male flatmate at the time worked part-time researching medieval and modern lives of the saints, and the other seventy percent of this time drinking Jack Daniels and coke and playing an internet based video game with brothers and friends back in the US. His perch was the delicious round table within the sweep of the elegant bay window. Come November, he and I would rather awkwardly heave out the hidden, original, indoor Victorian window shudders, painted black and capable of covering literally the entire span of the floor-to-ceiling windows in a complicated inter-working of hinges and panels. Assembling this indoor screen felt like the muzzling of a bulldog or the blinding of hero, Samson-style. But we did this because there was other way to keep warm. The meager oil heaters scattered here and there like tokens to modernity held no real efficacy. They were no match for the high ceilings and now-insanely tall windows, and this shudder system in effect double glazed the space, however imperfectly. Whereas with a modern home, one stood a chance of creating somewhat stable warmth with space heaters and extra layers, these old flats stood impotent against the softly insidious sting of that millions-strong army of wet winter water cells.

In western Scotland, winter was not the season of snow, but of the far worse dual enemy of damp and darkness. This was the place of clothes that took a week to fully dry on British drying racks, and Victorian floorboards that leeched cellular moisture perpetually. Continually running dehumidifiers, we found, was positively the most effective form of heat management. Would the yesteryear drying power of real fires in the tenement fireplaces proven the key to survival against the potency of this winter water cell army? I certainly hope so for the sake of our forefathers and foremothers!

When we were done securing the blackened panels across our lounge’s windows, I turned to my own small room, likely once a servant’s quarters. There, too, hung original wooden indoor shudders for my window. Around the awkward fitting paneling, I stuffed old pajamas and the summer shorts and tank tops I’d literally never worn in Scotland. Their summer lightness now served as plugs and sealants against my greatest enemy--winter. At last, my small space lay hermetically sealed and guarded against any speck of outdoor water, and indeed, any ray of weak winter sun. I slept, lived, and worked in a cavernous darkness at least three or four months of those years in which I resided in that flat of historic luxury. Night blended almost unnoticed into day, and a cell phone flashlight directed into my eyes each morning was the best means of indicating dayspring to my searching body.

Deeper into the stretch of the city’s west end, my husband-to-be, with a professional job, traditional office hours, and a somewhat larger bank account, battled the lows of the western Scottish winter more genteelly. His best mate, a distinguished Scottish surgeon, lured him into membership at the sleek and financially exclusive David Lloyd west end gym. Here was a gorgeous, artificial, perpetual summer of sorts—the chemical paradise of an indoor pool, ensconced safely within the glass. Here, eminent surgeon sat swan alongside high stakes IT programmer, property developer alongside Oxford-trained eye surgeon. Thus it was that Alistair and Chris swam their way through the sadness of winter.

Somehow, when I think of Alistair, quietly and dramatically insisting that the David Lloyd gym and the pool were the only places keeping him from actual insanity between the pressures of complicated, risky surgeries at a large regional hospital, estrangement with his brother, tensions with a difficult mother, and the memory of a dead, beloved father, I recognized a specter of my own mental workings–a reluctance to admit or inability to see that a beloved object or passion could actually be foremost implicated in my own harm. Was the west coast Scottish darkness the true force that exacerbated all other struggles beyond the point of endurance? Yet, for this Gaelic patriot, the Scottish winter’s almost unrelenting lightlessness never came to the fore as perhaps the central instigator of mental agony. Alistair loved Scotland deeply. The main fonthead of soul-reviving relaxation outside of the gym lay in his emotional involvement with the waves and rhythms of Scotland’s contemporary celtic music. For a man so somber and focused by day, it was spellbinding to observe him unwinding with dances, fast foot-tapping and a subtly rocking body at modern celtic concerts.

As I would think of those two friends, my mind would automatically contrast them, for some reason, with the astonishing scarred man I met at the Garnethill laundromat one Scottish summer’s day. It must have been the year after my own traumatic second degree burns to my feet—boiling kettle, rushing for church, tired and stressed, slippery hands–and my subsequent skin graft surgery at Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary. The scarred man was short, almost childlike in stature, as I found many Scottish men to be, but clearly aged. Almost up the rim of his chin, where neck and head met, danced plaited, pleated scars so complete and decorative that he almost seemed reptilian.

A thick, three-dimensional scar smiled darkly across the top of neck of where throat and chin meet, reminding me of the mark made by my great uncle, who, carrying the burden of PTSD from violence seen in WWII Pacific battles, and now in the first stages of dementia, had slit his throat with a huge metal saw. This gentle, kind, and tall music-loving man had once played the saw musically, eliciting its wobbling, otherworldly siren song with a cello bow against the flat side of the tool. The musical saw’s sound is piercing and otherworldly, finding its sound family with the glassy, wobbling chords of Benjamin Franklin’s glass harmonica. Two decades later, during my undergraduate years, that tall, German-American vet who’d lied about his age to begin serving before he actually turned 18, took that very musical blade slashed it across his neck. “Look what you made me do,” he cried to my usually strong, forceful Polish-American great aunt. He survived, but forever wore that same ring around his long, elegant neck.

Now, as I bid hello to this diminutive, thoroughly scarred man, I looked quickly away, resolved to appear oblivious to what seemed a very intimate tale of attempted suicide on his body. To my surprise, however, after polite greetings in the otherwise empty laundromat, he immediately commenced the tale of his body with strong Glaswegian inflections. Perhaps it was our isolation. Perhaps it was my conspicuous burns scars blazing through summer sandals. Whatever it was, I was so glad to know him, and moved hear his story. I’ll loosely translate from that lilting Glaswegian brogue into more comprehensible but less lyrical American style.

When he was no more than 5 years old boy, he began, his mother had spilled a full kettle of boiling water over her wee son in a horrible kitchen accident. He was taken to hospital, and almost died. These scars besmirching his flesh were the best doctors could do in skin repair forty years ago, and so he’d borne these ostracizing wounds for almost his entire life. Through no fault of his own, this scarred and anxious man stood thoroughly adorned by permanent markings of unintentional violence. He displayed on one frame forever, something of every person’s lifetime of wounds, internal and external, secrets which other bodies adeptly conceal.

He continued his story by describing a most isolated life, one that I can only attribute to the visual taboo of his grotesquely slashed and matted skin. His home was a single bedsit in the Glasgow city center, where he shared a tiny kitchen with four other single men. His trade, however, was sharpening knives and blades of all kinds. I was mildly surprised to learn that he worked, for it had become routine to me to meet men and women “on benefit” for an array of real mental and physical struggles. The delight he took in his labor delighted me.

From the small, highly regulated and much rarer hunting knives that still circulated after the successful 2005 Scottish gang crackdown and knife amnesty, to larger industrial blades for manufacturing machinery, the man whose name escapes my memory, but whose face and form I’ll never forget, could sharpen them all. Here, with talk of his trade, his eyes finally shifted from their haunted anxiety to brightness. I was blessed to hear him speak with some joy of camaraderie among the gents who worked on site with him at the mechanic’s shop. While the rest of the team fixed tires and engines, he practiced his own highly tailored, solitary trade in a small corner.

Perhaps boldly, because of the safety of my engagement ring, I asked him about girlfriends and women, only to hear confirmed a lifetime of isolation and singleness. He sticks out to me among these contemplations of winter for perhaps unmatched mental resilience against outwardly imposed suffering—a human creating what order, purpose, and joy he could amidst day to day agony. It was the story of a lifetime’s Glasgow winter.

I longed for him was to experience acceptance and community across ages and genders. And so, I, not being one to routinely do so, invited him to stop in at our church in the center of the city, a place of community at the very least. I knew men like him there, faint bodily memories of times past —beatings, disabilities, and trauma—but now slowly flourishing, incrementally renewed, and even married against all odds.

At just that moment, my posh Oxbridge roommate arrived. In the wake of the awkwardness of that invitation and her aura which recalled both my connection with another social realm and his gendered isolation, he quickly scurried off down the road, bearing the burden of his laundry like Quasimodo returning to the tower. I have thought of him often since then, praying for love, for community, and great, new hope. As I write here of winter and mental survival, of Alistair needing the bright lights and chlorinated waters of the posh David Lloyd spa and fitness club, of drunken friends, and mentally suffering colleagues, I think of him. I think of the steady, determined living of the scarred, knife-sharpening man.

One late winter’s evening sitting before the artificial blue glow of my laptop in a room enclosed by the total blackout of a Glasgow winter’s evening, I purchased tickets to the romantic heart of Southern France to visit a childhood friend. I was going on mini-break! Think Van Gogh’s cafe by night painting, and you will know Arles, France, the actual location of that iconic coffee shop, and the Dutch master’s home while at the from February 1888 to May 1889. Late February, almost March, I flew from Glasgow to Barcelona, Spain, and from Barcelona to Grenoble, France, and then by train to Arles. My dear American friend’s smile and transcendent ruby curls greeted me, and together we sauntered like those who’ve reached heaven itself through her adopted hometown, a healing intellectual and aesthetic distance from the New Jersey suburb of her youth. I posed by a Baroque fountain, while an enthusiastic male youth, adorned in an expensive Chanel “merce”, man-purse, jumped in to cradle me and photobomb the shot. We paused at a cafe on a winding, cobblestone street resounding with gentle guitar music for coffee and cocoa--all my European dreams were coming true. We continued on to Arles’ ancient Roman arena, where I heard tell of jazz and opera concerts, and finally emerged before the pinnacle, iconic Arles sight–its mirthful 1900 carousel.

Each of Katherine’s overseas guests were brought here and invited to ride the most famous of all Arlesian beasts—the black bull—El Toro of the carousel. Arlesian voices, Katherine explained, cacophonied in a dynamic, regional debate over the beauty or butchery of the bullfight. When these people of Southern France craved societal momentum, their chosen form of activism was always the formation of a society–the Society for Perpetuating Bullfights, the Society for Ethical Treatment of the Bull, the Society for Ending all Bullfights, etc. Across the road from one such society in an elegant turn of the century building, I paid my euros, and we laughed as the little carousel propelled my postgraduate student body up and down like a child’s. I balled my hands into fists and extended pointer fingers into two playful horns for my own forehead. For one puerile moment, I embodied El Toro himself.

For all the charm of that exploratory, Southern France day, the moment that stands immortalized in my mind was a quiet one. Descending the bull, and resting on the cobblestone pavements between the carousel and the boulangerie where Katherine quickly ran to purchased dinner baguettes, I felt a warmth steal across my face, neck, and decolletage. What was this glowing orange heat descending from the sky? How was this mercy of a peachy, gentle heat present on a mere late February day? Soaked in the mild ecstasy of this magnanimous anomaly, I drowsily wondered again what was this golden orb was doing filling the winter sky so warmly. I am not one to anthropomorphize flesh, but in that moment, my assemblage of cells spoke almost audibly. They begged me to pause, to stop, to soak, to drink in every lingering ray of sunlight. They would not budge.

There can be tears for the relief of battle we barely knew we had. There can be weeping with the realization that we had unknowingly survived truly destabilizing insufficiencies for so long. And at that moment, tears literally sprang to my eyes as I luxuriated in the gentle fullness of a benediction so long denied—the necessary mercy of sunlight for my pale, deprived epidermis. Here was a long forgotten grace for both body and mind. Here was a reminder of an alternative world where sun reigned not as a far off, chance promise, but as an immanent, abundant love.

In 1971, John Denver, the American folk singer with a flaxen gold bowl cut sang, “Sunshine, on my shoulders, makes me happy…Sunshine almost always makes me high.” This racy line sat neatly memorized in my mind, snuck in among other more lighthearted folk fare from my parents’ 1970’s favorites. I vividly recall my parents discussing, with insufficiently hushed voices from the front seat of our gray airport limousine-style van on a trip west around America in the mid-1990’s, whether Simon and Garfunkel’s Cecilia was appropriate musical fodder for the mixed company of our family’s emerging pre-teens, teens, toddlers, and elementary students. “Makin’ love in the afternoon with Cecelia, up in my bedroom! Makin’ love!…” So little music did our parents bring, and so many long hours in the car made for a categorically memorized albums–beauty, revolution, salaciousness, and all. By the end of that month-long trek we kids had memorized much of Peter Paul and Mary’s In The Wind, John Denver’s Best Of, and Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Waters—all of which rotated like clockwork with an audiobook performance of Jane Eyre.

That day, standing in the long alien sun on that street in southern France, the line from John’s “Sunshine” filtered to the surface of long forgotten memories. To be clear, whether it makes me nerd or novice, I have never been “high” in the usual illegal, high school manner; yet, I have experienced the ebullience of a day out with friends and no obligations and money to spend, or the delight and honor of winning a grand, unexpected prize, whether first place in a the school wide coloring contest in kindergarten, or the university Presidential Award. This moment of sun’s mercy was like that—a shock of sheer biological joy, soaking in upon my skin, almost against my will or asking, and ushering with it, a deeply gladdened heart and endorphins. I no longer giggled and smirked at John Denver and his chillaxed, hippy musings. I sang alongside in fully realized understanding. How, oh how, could I return to dark Scotland?

Back in my little cavernous bedroom a week later, I distractedly ordered a large jar of encapsulated vitamin D3. Each small, smooth and marble-like tablet appeared so inane, harmless, even placebo. I tossed one in my mouth, In fact, I think I tossed 5 in my mouth for few days straight. I had no idea of their efficacy, but I reasoned that if in theory, I had been missing out on this necessity for five years, my body would require a small jolt of awakening to begin its journey into recovery. Chasing them down with water, I probably raced on with the movements of my busy life. And suddenly, a week or two later, as I turned up the circular staircase of our Victorian flat, I noticed that the unhinged sadness and chaos that had darkly plagued my inner world had calmed ever so subtly.

It was not the burst of what I imagine a drugged high must be, but the soothing calm of gently increasing stability, the slow, almost imperceptible release from the whirling bedlam of a blurred and muddied mind. The little blue pitch-forked demons of Disney’s 1959 Sleeping Beauty had ceased their authoritative dance and disappeared into a poof of nothing.

“Wow, I’m not insane anymore,” I muttered softly to myself. Gratitude, then annoyance flowed through me. Why, oh why, hadn’t I just tried it before? I would have liked to know that I was more than the “sweet” but distracted and zany blonde—that a measure of winter peace was possible, ever so subtly.

I’ve been a sun chaser ever since. I could not go back, could not slacken my pursuit of the gift of God’s best UV rays. My body and practices have grown more savvy, tailoring their thirst to the most vanguard research—10-20 minutes a day of obsolescence before the orbital rays on as much skin as possible in the prime window of lowest UVB rays—10am to 2pm. I respect the sensitivities of the face, neck, and shoulders.

For so long, I’d scorned the Glaswegian flight to crass, boozy Majorca, Spain, with what I deemed to be its tacky modern hotels and abundance of alcoholic loitering on the sands. Why, I mused, would a nation with such ready access to Europe’s innumerable cultural splendors and fine countrysides beeline in droves to a that tasteless resort landscape? I’d drunk the molding Kool-aid of belief in fading science—wearing sunscreen even on overcast days in cloudy Scotland, and trying to cover every inch of skin with fabric, even on warm far northern days, dreaming all the while of the crowning trophy of smooth, creamy pensioner (retiree) skin, coupled with a remarkable freedom from skin cancer. But now, after seven years of winter darkness and year-round mist, my snobbish disdain broke down with understanding for those I’d once slighted –you must fill up on sun and wellness before any culture becomes important. Pale and D3 deprived as I was, it dawned on me that there was grave logic to British comedian Michael McIntyre’s routine about the Glaswegian airport bombing attempt. Contrasting successful terrorists in London and Manchester, British born Islamic jihadists failed in their malicious bomb plots here in Glasgow, where a winter-beaten Glaswegian man tackled the physician- turned-jihadist in overweening determination to let nothing keep him from…Majorca.

When I next visited Glasgow seven years following our emigration, my friend Lindsey stood contemplating my Americanized postpartum body. She who had known me well in the Glasgow days observed, “You have some curves to you now, and some colour!” It was late October then, and so particularly gratifying to appear even remotely tanned! I reveled in my new hue, a sun-kissed peach, no longer the pallid, muted white linked to breast cancer and MS.

Now as a thirty-something year old scholar, mother, and partner, I look to photos of fellow thirty year old Scottish friends. Two Octobers ago, I sat with them in an ornate Victorian sandstone building-turned-Starbucks, drinking in the miracle of their lovely children, and seeing photos of their flourishing middle class lives. They worked as a professors, teachers, bank tellers, mothers, and volunteered with refugees, addicts, and international students. They lived day by day still in this cloud of gray, and theirs is a resilience I marvel to behold. I raise my glass of almond milk and another of kombucha to them, and salute their Scottish hardiness. My heart opens in prayer for the gift of mental wellness for them, and for those of us everywhere who find the shift to winter darkness an elephant of gloom sitting upon hearts. Let us fill our homes with green plants, keep connected in fun and kinship with friends, especially the lonely, pop our vitamin D3 with its enabling K2 buddy, and long for the lights of Christmas, Hanukkah, and Yule who offer bright, needful stars of hope and celebration against a black winter sky.

As we walk in darkness, visions of summer remains my close companion hope, a specter walking by my side, the dream, like heaven reaching close to earth. And if we have eyes to see, we raise our fragile fingers to touch the veil between this present world and the next springtime. Memories and testimonies from far across the equator where antipodean New Zealand and Australian summers reign alongside our winter become the motivating promise that at the culmination of this obligatory darkness, there will be my body glistening with sun and sweat by the sonorous utterance of the lapping ocean waves.

4 notes · View notes

bran-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Farm Boy Blues Ep. 1 “Welcome Home, Sunny:” Pt. 2

Sunny climbed out of the Dyson Security car, bag in tow, and stretched carefully. He took stock of everybody out on the sidewalks. There were throngs of people crossing the street towards him, not particularly minding him at all. A couple sat down at a patio coffee shop table and a family of four piled into a minivan down the street. Food stall vendors offered their choices as the meals were cooked in front of waiting patrons. Everything seemed normal- just as Sunny had left it four months ago. The sun beat down on him as the smell of Courier Street assaulted his nose.

Baking bread.

Lamb meat.

Strong coffee.

Gourmet popcorn. That was exactly where Sunny was headed. He thanked the security guard and closed the car door before gingerly slinging his bag on his shoulder. Sunny crossed the busy street to Diane’s Eatery, coming upon a woman and her kids walking out with small bags of gourmet popcorn. The woman attempted to corral her two children who weren’t giving her a lick of attention until she snapped her fingers. Smiling, Sunny reached out and held the door open.

“Thank you,” the woman sighed, rolling her eyes, “Come on kids, don’t make this man hold the door open all day. Move your boots!”

A shriek came from inside Diane’s Eatery and Sunny’s head snapped up, instantly recognizing the owner of the shrill voice. “Mama! Sunny’s here!”

Twelve year old Lacey bounded over the sales counter past a shocked old man laying his money down and sprinted towards Sunny before he had time to even get all the way inside. The girl threw her arms around Sunny and held tight, laughing.

“Woah, woah, Lace, chill out,” Sunny laughed through the pain of her head smacking his stitches. He wanted to curse out in pain, but he was overwhelmed with joy from seeing the kid. Eh, the pain can wait, Sunny thought to himself.

Lacey’s bright red hair was tied in a ponytail so it was easy enough for Sunny to playfully tug it. “Hey, stop,” she laughed. The girl looked up at Sunny with a big smile- a smile he’d seen so many times over the years but never got old. “I knew you’d come back!”

“Oh of course,” Sunny scoffed, “did somebody say I was gone for good or something?”

A chorus of kids yelling Sunny’s name pulled him away from his adoptive little sister and before he knew it, the rest of his adopted siblings were bounding from the back of the store- many of them still wearing their backpacks.

“Ah, what- who let you heathens out of school early?!”

There were four kids(besides Lacey) who gathered around for hugs.

Pete with the glasses.

Johnell with the mohawk.

Amber with the braids.

And of course, Tiny Dalton.

Sunny hugged them all one by one and asked where Mama Diane was. As if summoned by the mention of her name, the owner of the shop and the woman who’d shown Sunny love when nobody else would, appeared from the back with a big smile on her face.

Diane Haines looked immaculate for her age. Rich brown skin, deep brown eyes with dark freckles underlying them. Her shining curls were outlined in white strands- the only byproduct of time that was visible on the fifty year-old woman as of yet. Sunny smiled at her over the other kids and instantly felt like he was fifteen again, coming home from a day of work. The world droned away while she approached and for the first time since crossing the gate, Sunny was truly glad to be home.

“Hey, mama,” Sunny winked.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Diane chuckled, weaving through her other adopted kids to hug Sunny. He wanted to cry when he smelled her perfume. He hugged her back tightly, ignoring the pain in his chest. “I told them you’d be back,” she winked at him.

“Back home? Can’t keep me away,” Sunny laughed.

“Okay kids, break it up,” Diane waved at the children. “Lacey, back on the register until Stevie gets back from lunch, please. Everybody else, homework. Right now. You’ll get time with Sunny when you’re done.”

“Yeah, I’m back, guys. You’ll get your chance to hang out and ask me a bunch of annoying ass questions, I promise.”

Diane smacked his arm, “Don’t cuss at my babies.”

The kids dispersed- Lacey back to the register while the others grabbing seats in the corner of the restaurant to peel their backpacks open and get started on their homework.

Diane’s Eatery was a well-known little snack shop on the East Side of The Rows- a large, older and less hi-tech section of Dyson City. The shop was most celebrated for it’s array of gourmet popcorn from the bar where you could get as many flavors in one of the bags as you liked. Jimmy, Diane’s only birth son helped with the cooking while the kids Diane took in often helped out around the shop for some extra spending money.

Diane lead Sunny to the back office that connected to the apartment she lived in with the kids and her wife, Katrina. Sunny grabbed one of the office chairs and sat down in it, playfully rolling into Diane’s desk.

“So, mama, mother of many, how’s it goin?”

Diane smirked, “Don’t ‘so mama’ me, what happened?”

Sunny feigned shock. “Mama Diane, am I not allowed to come home, you know, to where the heart is? Does it have to because of some disaster?”

“She fucked you, didn’t she?” Diane crossed her arms.

“Oh, many times,” Sunny bucked his eyebrows.

“Don’t be nasty! You know what I mean. What happened?”

Sunny felt it was okay to beat around the bush for the time being, to stop himself from breaking down in front of her- no matter how much he wanted to. She had so much to deal with already and the last thing Sunny wanted to do was add to her plate. “It just didn’t work out, mama. You can go ahead and say I told you so.”

“You know that’s not what I’m about. I just want to see you safe and happy. That girl was never gonna let you be either of those.”

She was right… Of course she was right. She’d been right when Sunny told her that he was going away with Mia in the first place. Hell, she’d been right when he first met Mia six years ago. “Yeah…”

“Baby, I know you feel like you need somebody to be there for you, and that’s perfectly understandable. But you need somebody who’s gonna support you, who’s gonna be in your corner, and who’s not gonna take any of your shit. You can’t force somebody to be that. You just have to be patient.”

“You’re right,” Sunny brushed his hair back and sighed, leaning back in the seat.

“You look hurt, why you holding yourself like that?”

“Just sore. A long ride on the train back into the city.”

“Oh you have got to be kidding me…”

“Yeah, we didn’t exactly split on the best of terms. Anyways, I’m just glad to be back home.”

Diane looked at him with that stare, that look full of sympathy and love. “You want to stay for dinner tonight?”

“Maybe some other time, I just want to get home and shower and sleep.”

“Okay baby. You want your piece back, at least?”

“Sure do,” Sunny smiled. Diane reached under the desk and produced the lock box that held his handgun. She unhooked a key from her necklace and slid both across the desk to him. Sunny pulled his duffel bag into his lap and shook it.

“Brought something for you,” he winked.

“From one of your desert stashes?” Diane bit into a carrot she produced from a plastic container. From the looks of it, Sunny had caught her on her lunch break.

“Yep, figured we could use it in the future fund here,” Sunny unzipped the bag and produced several stacks of cash tied together by rubber bands. “Should be about three grand, there. Trade ya.”

Sunny gave her the money and zipped the rest back up. While Diane counted, Sunny unlocked the box to see his Beretta Cougar 8040 in its holster, his spare magazines resting beneath it. He pulled the pistol from its holster and checked to make sure it was empty. He stared down at it, glad to have the reassuring weight back in his hand. The original pistol was first manufactured 181 years ago, but Beretta brought back the design just thirty years ago as part of a legacy line. There weren’t many of them from that legacy line on the streets, but Sunny was glad to have his.

“Yep, three grand it is. I’ll add it to the fund. Thank you, baby.”

“No problem,” Sunny loaded a magazine into the gun, engaged the safety and holstered it, standing up and clipping the holster to the back of his belt. He put the spare magazines in the duffel bag and hoisted it on his shoulder, trying not to wince. “My car’s still here, right?”

With a mouthful of sandwich, Diane nodded and pointed to the wall behind her where a hook for keys was. Sunny crossed over and plucked his car key off the hook. Diane covered her mouth with her hand and snapped, “It’s out back.”

“Thank you, mama. I’ll see you later,” Sunny leaned down and kissed the woman’s forehead. Making sure he had everything he needed, he opened to door to the apartment and slid through.

“Call me!”

“I will, say hi to Katrina for me,” Sunny waved and closed the door behind him.

In the garage behind Diane’s Eatery, Sunny rounded the corner and almost teared up when he saw his car safe and sound where he left it. The Briggs Wayfarer wasn’t the most sporty or even new car, but Sunny fell in love with it the moment he saw it when he was 16. The boxy look fit his tastes and the bright blue paint with white accents gave the car more personality than it’s brethren at the lot Sunny bought it from. It was about nine years old, but he’d taken good care of it, which also meant he’d installed bullet proof windows and paneling inside the chassis for when work got heated.

Sunny unlocked the car with the fob and climbed in. The familiar feel of the seats made him instantly feel at home. He checked the dashboard and the passenger seat before twisting around to look in the back.

“Oh, baby, I missed you,” he smiled. Sunny tossed the duffel bag in the back seat and started the car to a healthy rumble. He couldn’t help but laugh in joy. “Yep, Mama Katrina took good care of it, didn’t she? Sounds good as new.”

The car’s navigation system blinked on and the console beeped to life. The welcome message scrolled across the screen and Sunny re-synched the car back to his watch before scrolling through his music options, picking a song and pulling out of the garage.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tag List:

@writerinafury @oneleggedflamingo @carmina-solis @anomaly00 @neirawrites @lnspired-insomniac

#Farm Boy Blues #my wip #short story #writeblr #sci fi #the mama sunny deserves #I love her #and the kids

6 notes · View notes

grillpartszone-blog · 7 years ago

Text

REPLACEMENT STAINLESS STEEL HEAT PLATE FOR GRAND GOURMET 810-6345-0 GAS GRILL MODELS

STAINLESS STEEL HEAT PLATE

We at Grillpartszone.com provide affordable Price at Replacement Stainless Steel Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Gas Grill Models.

This Grand Gourmet Stainless Steel Heat Plate Also Fits Compatible for below Models :- Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Grill Parts, Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 BBQ Parts, Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Replacement Parts, Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Ga…

View On WordPress

#Grand Gourmet Heat Plate #Grand Gourmet Stainless Steel Heat Plate #Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 BBQ Parts #Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Gas Grill Model #Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Grill Parts #Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 Replacement Parts #Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet #Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 #Stainless Steel Heat Plate

0 notes

amarauder · 6 years ago

Text

0.10 madame pamplemousse and her incredible edibles

sincerely, the blue and silver gryffindor

a princess of magic novel

draco malfoy x reader

When the news went out that the restaurant was opening again, the phone never stopped ringing. By now, only the wealthiest citizens of Paris were able to afford a table, but even so, the tables were by invitation only. The head of FOOD Corporation had ordered his private jet to spin around in mid-flight when he got the news. The President of France had a special body double take over the engagements so that he might attend.

But eight o'clock that morning, all of Lard's cooking staff had been despatched to buy the necessary ingredients. Lard was amazed by the recipe's simplicity.

"You mean that's it? There's nothing else to it?"

"Just what's on the list, Uncle," said Y/N.

"But surely some extra butter, a drizzle of double cream?"

"Just what's on the list," she repeated.

"Well, I never!" said Lard. "And there it was all this time, right under my very nose!" And he went off muttering to himself, occasionally lashing out to punch a wall or smash a piece of furniture.

By midday all of the ingredients had been bought, chopped, filleted, sliced, crushed, and blended as dictated, to the letter, in the recipe. Smiling practice began soon after and work had to stop for a good two hours. Seeing her chance, Y/N slipped away.

As quickly as she could, she took a saucepan and began to prepare the stock, just as she had done the night before in Madame Pamplemousse's kitchen. But the freedom she had felt there now abandoned her and in its place came a little, creeping fear. A fear that her recipe was no good-that it would backfire horribly and her uncle would be triumphant after all. But then the first delicate threads of steam rose up from the cooking pot to curl about her nostrils, and in that instant she forgot her fear. A new, coolly detached part of herself took hold, no longer rushing, but allowing the recipe to take shape at its own pace and natural rhythm.

Then, when it was done, she removed the saucepan from the heat and let it cook in a special hiding place in one of the store cupboards. This she managed just in time before a great stampede of chefs, forced to stop work during smiling practice, came charging through the kitchen doors.

By seven o'clock huge crowds had formed outside the restaurant and were screaming and shouting to be let in. Lard had the full assistance of the military and the police, and great steel barriers had been set up around the restaurant, patrolled by armed guards. Television crews were filming all the commotion and the crowd became hysterical when a helicopter appeared overhead, hovered above the restaurant, and a rope ladder dropped down. A bald, faceless man in a grey suit, who was the President of France, climbed out of the helicopter, closely followed by a small, withered-looking man, who was the head of the FOOD Corporation.

It was more than Monsieur Lard could ever have dreamed of and he stepped out to meet the crowd, resplendent in his new pink and diamond-spangled suit.

"Ladies and gentlement," he said in a voice like warm margarine. Then he paused to grin at everyone. "It is my immense honor to welcome you tonight to the Grand Re-Opening of the Squealing Pig. So far the world has only had a taste, a first taste of what is, by all accounts, the most delectable, the most delicious, the most extraordinary, the most incredible tasting edible in all the world!"

There were huge cheers and applause.

"Who wants some more?"

There were shouts of "Me! I do! Me! Me!"

Lard raised his hands to silence them. "Well, I've news for you, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight you shall have as much as you can eat!"

And the crowd went wild.

In the kitchens the cooks were rushing about frantically. They had made vast quantities of the recipe and were spooning it at the double on to plates which had been polished up to a sparkle by Y/N. The waiters were waiting anxiously, shouting for the cooks to hurry up.

A fight nearly broke out between one of the waiters and the Head Chef. It was the whippet-thin waiter who also acted as Lard's spy.

"If he shots one more time," whispered the Head Chef, "I'll chuck him in the deep-fat fryer!"

"Don't bother," Y/N whispered back. "Listen, I've got a plan." And she told him about the secret recipe she had prepared and how they were to serve it for the second course.

Next door, Paris's richest and most powerful were banging their cultery on the tables, and when they saw the waiters marching out of the kitchen they began to whoop like monkeys. They pounced on the food, saliva dribbling from their chins, and for a while there was no sound but for the busy scraping of metal on china plates.

Monsieur Lard first knew there was something wrong when he saw that people had stopped eating-not the way they had done when they first tasted the delicacy from Madame Pamplemousse's shop. Then they had stopped eating out of awe and wonder. This time they were frowning.

Lard's beady little eyes darted about the tables and he saw the President of France chewing slowly with a terrible furrowed brow and a man at another table with a napkin over his mouth. A woman was puckering her lips as if she was about to be sick, and then he saw the President stop chewing and suddenly he spit violently on to the table. All at one, everyone was coughing, spitting, spluttering, as if they had been poisoned.

Lard leapt up, waving his arms around. "Wait!" he cried. "Stop! There must be some mistake. Everyone stop spitting this instant!"

And so they did, not because he told them to but because just then the restaurant doors flew open and out came a solemn procession of cooks, all dressed in their aprons and white hats. And at the front there was the Head Chef, bearing in his hand a tiny plate. This he delivered to the President. "Monsieur," he said, "please accept this from the kitchen, with our apologies."

The President grunted and, as the crowd watched, he lifted ip a tiny spoonful of the food to his mouth. Then he ate another spoonful, and then another. The cooks delivered plates to other tables and soon everyone was doing the same, for Y/N's recipe had the most incredible effect. It was so deliciously light, so fresh and zingy that people quite forgot their sickness and were soon calling out for more.

On seeing this extraordinary turn of events, Lard got out from under the tablecloth where he had been hiding and dusted himself down. He had no idea what was going on but assumed the cooks had made a mistake with the first batch of the recipe. He was going to flambé whoever was responsible but, meanwhile, he improvised.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he grinned broadly, "as you have probably guessed, that first course you received was really a test! A test to see whether you are truly the finest gourmets in Paris!"

A small murmur of approval went round the tables. "And you have passed that test! Admirably! You are not only the finest gourmets but also Paris's best and most beautiful people!"

There was an even bigger murmur of approval. But while he was speaking, a black limousine had slid silently up to the pavement in front of the restaurant. A chauffeur got out to open the passenger door and out stepped the black-suited figure of Monsieur Langoustine. All eyes were on him as he walked up to Monsieur Lard.

"Well, well, nice of you to drop by, Monsieur Langoustine," said Lard coolly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur," said Langoustine. "For tonight I am here to celebrate Paris's new gastronomic star." From out of his long black coat he produced a large bouquet of flowers. "May I present my compliments to the chef?"

"Really, Monsieur Langoustine," said Lard, softening like rancid butter, "you shouldn't have. Though, of course, I accept. For it is an honor and a privilege to be at last recognised as the greatest chef the world has ever-"

Monsieur Langoustine loudly cleared his throat. This was a disturbingly high-pitched, barely human kind of sound, which had the effect of immediately silencing Monsieur Lard. "Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly, Monsieur," said Langoustine icily, "I said I was here to pay my compliments to the chef." He had raised voice so that all might hear it, although this was unnecessary, since everyone was listening intently. And then he pointed his black-gloved hand in Y/N's direction. She had been standing in a huddle with the other chefs but, receiving his summons, she stepped out from among them and Monsieur Langoustine presented her with flowers.

Attatched to them was a note, written in exquisite purple script, which read:

To Y/N, from he friend and colleague, Madame Pamplemousse

Next to her name there was what appeared to be a smudge of ink, but when Y/N looked closer she saw it was the tiny imprint of a paw.

"Congratulations, Mademoiselle," said Langoustine in his soft, piping voice. "People like us should stick together," And then he raised her hand to his thin red lips.

A camera flash went off. A photographer had caught the moment and the next day the picture would appear on the cover of every national newspaper: Y/N in her chef's whites, holding a bunch of brilliantly colored flowers, beside a rather sinister-looking man in dark glasses. Above it the headlines would read:

LANGOUSTINE CONGRATULATES NEW GASTRONOMIC STAR

☛☚

RESTAURANT OWNER STEALS RECIPE FROM HIS OWN NIECE

☛☚

MONSIEUR LARD: THIEF!

And in the later editions:

THE MOST INCREDIBLE EDIBLE EVER

TASTED: WAS IT REALLY ALL

A HOAX?

The photographer had also managed to get Monsieur Lard in the picture, his face bright pink, dripping with sweat. As far as situations in which to be unmasked as a thief go, this was arguably the worst. He had personally seen to it that every exit was either fenced off or patrolled by men with guns. His every facial gesture was being broadcast on national television and he was surrounded by a large angry mob who might easily tear him pieces.

But what they actually did was applaud. No one jeered, no one heckled or booed or hissed. They stood up and clapped as if the whole thing had been a theatrical event, an entrainment and nothing more.

Then someone called out Y/N's name and a small tussle broke out among the press, trying to get the first interview. Paris's top children's clothing designer was there, trying to get her to model a new kind of pink fairy outfit with elasticated wings. But no one could find her.

During all the commotion, while everyone's attention had been diverted by the flashing lights of the cameras, Monsieur Langoustine and Y/N had discreetly made their way through the crowd. And when they reached the limousine, the chauffeur got out to open the door and together they slipped inside. And if anyone had been looking they might have been surprised to see the driver of the car was not even human, but a cat: a long white cat walking on its hind legs and wearing a peaked cap. But no one did notice and before they would have had the chance, the car had already started and was moving silently away.

master masterlist

sincerely, the blue and silver gryffindor

#sincerely the blue and silver gryffindor #draco malfoy x reader #the princess of magic #a princess of magic book

4 notes · View notes

hawaiiirl · 4 years ago

Text

Review: Da Chef’s Box

Disclosure: Complimentary product was received for review purposes. All opinions are entirely my own.

You don’t need to be a mom of a crazy 20-month old trying to run a small business in the middle of a global pandemic to find yourself struggling to find creative ideas for healthy, safe meals. But if you are (and if you are, I feel ya sister) and even if you’re not, the great news is that there are a number of local businesses stepping up to the plate to help.

One of them is Da Chefs Box, which is Chef Zone’s take on chef prepared meals that you can just easily heat up and enjoy at home.

We were gifted the Gourmet Box which currently features dishes by Chef Keith Kong of Basalt Waikiki. I haven’t been to the restaurant yet and had been wanting to go, so was even more excited to try my box.

The Gourmet Box from Da Chefs Box.

Boxes (and dishes) change each week. Our box included:

Lemongrass Pork with Pineapple Nuoc Cham

Misoyaki Fresh Catch with Shiitake Mushroom Dashi Nage

Kabocha Squash Puree

Steamed Baby Bok Choy

Garlic Fried Rice

Basalt Charcoal Pandesal with Whipped Butter

Grand Marnier Chocolate Mousse Cake

Basalt Charcoal Pancake Mix

Ordering your box (which I didnt do) looks pretty easy and can be ordered online here: https://chefzone.com/dachefsbox/

You can choose from different options including from their Gourmet Box, Couple’s Box (for a romantic meal for two), Tex 808 BBQ, a Heart Healthy Box and a few more options. Right now they are also doing two different boxes for Thanksgiving.

Pick up was fast and easy. And would be even more so if you follow their directions and go to the address provided which is 2905 Koapaka Street Honolulu, HI 96819 and NOT just map Chef Zone which is what I did (even though they gave me the address). It’s just behind Chef Zone though so if you do end up at Chef Zone (like I did) its not a big problem.

You just pull up (there were just two cars ahead of me when I arrived a little after 9am on a Saturday) roll down your window, and give your name/order number and they pull the box from a refrigerated trailer, and drop the box into your trunk. No muss, no fuss. No contact. There were like four to five people working so each car is serviced very quickly.

We heated the food up the next night for dinner and it was very easy (which is bonus points when you’re trying to watch a toddler dash back and forth across the kitchen). You literally just throw on a wet paper towel and microwave for 1-2 minuted until heated through. Instructions are provided in each box and there are two proteins, two starches and a veggie so you can kind of mix and match. I’ll admit I thought that the proteins looked a bit small but they are surprisingly filling. I am a big eater and both my baby and I shared one fish filet… and he ate half (he loves fish). I did try some of the pork too and it was delicious.

Easy peasy gourmet meal. Just heat and plate.

I think my favorite dishes in this particular box was the galic fried rice (because you can actually taste the garlic, which is often my complaint about things billed as “garlic fill-in-the-blank”) and the fish (the sauce was delicious!).

If you’re like us and not really dining out and trying to stay home and social distance the Da Chefs Box is a nice way to treat yourself and support local businesses at a time when they need us most.

The post Review: Da Chef’s Box first appeared on Hawaii: In Real Life.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/3eS8ANj via IFTTT

#hawaiiirl

0 notes

arplis · 5 years ago

Text

Arplis - News: Grand Rose Gold Hangers

Visit IKEA online to browse our range of coat hangers and clothes hangers, and find plenty of home furnishing ideas and inspiration. IKEA has a wide variety of stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and coat hooks. Shop today! Visit IKEA for a wide selection of clothes hangers for any garment from trousers to coats! Visit us for stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and hooks at low prices. Find everything from pants hangers to coat hooks in lots of designs and colours. Visit us for stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and hooks at low prices. Find everything from trouser hangers to coat hooks in lots of designs and colours. Wardrobe hangers for all sorts of garments. Sturdy and stylish, available in wooden, steel and plastic. Buy online and in-store at all IKEA stores. Hooks & hangers to keep things tidy and easy to find. Range of clothes hangers to hold all kinds of garments and all sorts of hooks to give anyting a lift. Hooks and hangers are probably one of the quickest and simplest ways to keep things wrinkle-free, tidy and easy to find. We have a wide range of clothes . IKEA 8 X ADULT WOODEN CLOTHES HANGER – WHITE: Amazon.co.uk: Kitchen . Pack of 10 Baby Pink 41cm Tops Plastic Hangers with Non-Slip Rubber . Free delivery over £40 to most of UK ✓ Great Selection ✓ Excellent customer . Velvet Ultra Thin Space Saving Non-Slip Coat Hangers (Set of 50) . This is a set of 10 padded hangers in a flower silk style fabric (also with a decorative bow on it). . Uniquely their own, these vivid hand painted hangers, make a tempting . Buy Clothes hanger copper / rose gold, glossy polished, set of 10 pieces, rotatable hook. From Buy Emotions® at Amazon UK. Free delivery on eligible orders. Buy Clothes hanger copper / rose gold, glossy polished, fixed hook, set of 10 pieces. From Buy Emotions® at Amazon UK. Free delivery on eligible orders. Buy low price, high quality rose gold clothes hangers with worldwide shipping on AliExpress.com. See more ideas about Bridesmaid hangers, Engagement and Bridesmaids. . rose gold wedding hanger, bridesmaid hanger, wedding dress hanger, bridal . British Fashion Council Menswear London Collections for GQ by Sarah Parker and . Rose Gold Copper Hangers Strong Metal Wire Coat Home Accessories Decor Weathered Wood Designs and Custom Displays for by Giftedshopworks . Rose Gold Hanger with Dress #weddinghanger #bridalhanger Tasteful and Elegant, Pinup Inspired Bridal Boudoir Love My Dress® UK Wedding Blog. See more ideas about Bridesmaid hangers, Wedding stuff and Bridesmaids. . Pale Pink Wedding Decor – Door Hanger Letter H Diy Wedding Hangers, Door Hanger . Wedding hangers Etsy UK So tired of those ugly cheap white hangers!” Sparkle Glitter Hanger Gold Silver Iridescent Glamorous Fashion Hanger . . Designs Bridal Jewelry”. Padded WeDDING HANGeR HANGER COUTURE Gold by TheGoldenTurtle, $45.00 Padded Hangers, Rose Wedding, Nothing kills a beautiful wedding dress shot faster than a plastic, ugly hanger! Brittany Smith · Cool stuff to . Bridesmaid Dress Hanger. Stephanie Becomingdrg.co.uk. Buy Closet Complete Ultra Thin, Non-Slip Hangers with Rose Gold Hooks (Set of 120) at Walmart.com. Product Image. Closet Complete 50 Pack Velvet Hangers; black with Gold hook Sunbeam 30 Pack No Slip Velvet Suit Dress Shirt Hanger Pink. Price. $25.79. Space Saving Slim design, notched Shoulders to prevent Slipping, 360 Degree swivel Rose Gold Hook, non-slip surface holds fabrics neatly in place Closet . Products 1 – 24 of 198‏ – Hangers & hooks keep clothing off the floor; a scarf organizer or belt organizer helps stop the . Tropical Bedding · Relaxed & Casual · Cozy Bedding · Trending Now · Sleep Cool · Heated Bedding · Solid Shop Real Simple® 12-Count Flocked Suit Hangers with Gold Hook . PURPLE/ROSE GOLD Mainstays 18 Pack Plastic HANGER – WHITE – Walmart.com. . string light clips that can hold your fave photos, notes, artwork and more with a flexible gold wire! . Pink Faux Fur Shag Blanket rue21 Pink Faux Fur, Teen Girl Rooms, Cozy . Jan 5, 2019- Mainstays Ms Wire Basket (rose Gold) – Walmart.com. . Girls Bedroom!!! #teenbedroom Cozy Dorm Room, Dorm Room Storage, nice cool Rose Gold Copper Hangers Strong Metal Wire Coat Home Accessories Decor. Trend Of The Week: Gold Plated Finishes Are Taking Over . Home Decorating Ideas Cozy my scandinavian home: The relaxed, Boho-style home of Anita . an industrial apartment with a pink sofa, wood floors and a lot of space and light. Items 1 – 60 of 184‏ – Keep baby dry during rainy strolls with a stroller cover from Walmart . The Mommy Hook Stroller Hanger . The Mommy Hook – Rose/Gold. 25‏/12‏/2018 – Delta Children® Nursery Hangers for Infants and Toddlers – 10pk – White. This item is reserved. Baby Monthly Milestone Stickers – (Set of 24) Premium Metallic Gold . Teether Pacifier Clip 2-Pack Pink Silicone Pearl Binky Holder . At walmart and target as well. . Cozy Cover Infant Carrier Cover, Black. Visit IKEA online to browse our range of coat hangers and clothes hangers, and find plenty of home furnishing ideas and inspiration. IKEA has a wide variety of stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and coat hooks. Shop today! Visit IKEA for a wide selection of clothes hangers for any garment from trousers to coats! Hooks & hangers to keep things tidy and easy to find. Range of clothes hangers to hold all kinds of garments and all sorts of hooks to give anyting a lift. Wardrobe hangers for all sorts of garments. Sturdy and stylish, available in wooden, steel and plastic. Buy online and in-store at all IKEA stores. Visit us for stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and hooks at low prices. Find everything from pants hangers to coat hooks in lots of designs and colours. Visit us for stylish and sturdy clothes hangers and hooks at low prices. Find everything from trouser hangers to coat hooks in lots of designs and colours. Visit us for stylish and sturdy clothes hangers at low prices. Find everything from trouser and skirt to coat hangers in lots of designs and colours. Pack of 10 Baby Pink 41cm Tops Plastic Hangers with Non-Slip Rubber . SONGMICS Set of 50 Velvet Clothes Hangers, Non-slip and Space Saving, Upgraded . Our 5 pack of Rose Gold Coloured hangers are perfect for your wardrobe items, complimenting your garment and wardrobe effortlessly. Shop Target for Hangers you will love at great low prices. Spend $35+ . Pale Green. Pink. $1.99. Free standard shipping with $35 orders. In stock at Villa Park. Reinforced Lightweight & Durable Velvet Non Slip Suit Clothes Hangers (50 Pack) · Home & Loftnew at Delta Children® Kids Velvet Hangers – Pink 30pk. Products 1 – 24 of 198‏ – Hangers & hooks keep clothing off the floor; a scarf organizer or belt organizer helps stop the mad dash to . Gourmet Gift Baskets · Beer Making Kits & Cocktail Mixers · Chocolate & Candy · Cakes & Cookies . Real Simple® 12-Count Flocked Suit Hangers with Gold Hook . PURPLE/ROSE GOLD 11‏/09‏/2018 – Suzanne of My Kind Of Sweet shares Part One of her Target Fall Try On. A must for . ON THE HANGERS AND BRING THEM OUT OF THE FITTING ROOM.) . a fortune on, because they’re rose gold loafers and super trendy. Makeup vanity from Ikea (Malm dressing table), Target chair, Kmart rug, Ikea clothing rack, Kmart . Home Sweet Home . Clothing rack and rose gold hangers. Refresh & Revive: Oh Joy + Target Mirror wall Sweet Home, Pastel Decor, Decoration, Home Living, Pennsylvania marc jacobs for target rose gold pouch. 5 DIY Planter Projects To Try Now- planting hanger hack Umbra Trigg Small Wall Vessel Set of 2 Rose Gold Wall Decor, Copper Wall Decor. Macys . Add a touch of green to your space with fake flowers and indoor plants. Fast home deliveries and pick-up available across Australia. Rose Gold Hangers. €4.00. In order to add this product to your outfit, please remove an item. 10.11.2017. Find my nearest PRIMARK · Show all in Storage. 19��/08‏/2016 – Copper blend notebooks for pretty practicality, a mini cactus . These gorge copper hangers, at £4 a set, are perfect for showcasing your Scandi . 06‏/01‏/2017 – We’re all for getting pretty in pink, from infusing a little pastel magic into our . Pink lips hanger £2, gold heart hanger £4, shower cap £1.30. 4 Pack Metal Hangers Primark, Copper Hangers, New Homes, Packing, Interior, This copper (rose gold colour) jewellery stand is perfect for your home or for . Loving this colour and texture contrast between the concrete base and the . Primark hangers for clothes rack Bedroom 2018, Gold Bedroom, Teen Bedroom, Dream Bedroom. Visit Primark – Kupferfarbenes Schreibwarenset Stationary School, Cute . Primark – Copper Stationery Set Is copper the new Rose Gold? Home Decor · 3Pk Rose Gold Clip Hangers Copper Rose, Rose Gold, Gold Hangers, Hanger Clips . Home Decor · Copper Heart Insert Hangers 5 Pack Primark, My Room, Copper, Sweet Home, . People also love these ideas. DIY your very . 25‏/08‏/2017 – Their homeware! From their rose gold coat hangers to their £2 candles and EPIC range of bed linen! I LOVE the fact that you can refresh your . FiNeWaY PACK OF 50 Heavy Duty Non Slip Flocked Velvet Hanger Coat I have few other type of hangers like that I brought in Primark but I think they don’t sell it . Love these hangers, I’ve replaced all our wardrobe hangers with these and . LM850 primark velvet hangers plastic clothes hangers. Country/Region: . EISHO Top Pink baby velvet hangers 50 pack . Lovely Animals Pig Baby Velvet Hanger 15 inch hot sale luxury gold logo black flocked velvet hanger . Add a touch of glam in your wardrobe with these trendy pack of 4 rose gold hangers.Dimensions:L21xW42 cm. 08‏/11‏/2018 – rose gold hangers south africa metal closet adult skirt dress coat clothing cloth . grey and rose gold velvet hangers closet inspiration copper. Buy CopperKonk Polished Copper / Rose Gold Luxury Clothing Hangers for . 3.9 Inches Flat S Shape Heavy-Duty Chrome Finish Hanging Hooks for Scarf. +. Results 1 – 24 of 522‏ – Jetdio 17.7″ Strong Metal Wire Hangers Clothes Hangers, Coat Koobay 10Pack 17″ Metal Hook Wire Rose Gold Copper Hangers with . You searched for: rose gold hangers! Etsy is the home to thousands of handmade, vintage, and one-of-a-kind products and gifts related to your search. Buy low price, high quality rose gold clothes hangers with worldwide shipping on AliExpress.com. 23‏/02‏/2017 – Lovilee actually sell wedding hangers so if you want something special for . The rose gold hangers retail at R90 which actually isn’t bad at all but because I purchased a few I got a discount. . Top 30 South African Lifestyle Blogs Winner . Inspiration (5), lifestyle (19), Makeup (625), Makeup Inspiration (7) . Shop for Clothes Hangers from our Home & Garden range at John Lewis & Partners. Free Delivery on orders over £50. 105514 products‏ – Alibaba.com offers 105514 clothes hanger products. About 73% of these are . Logo printed wooden top clothes hanger with rose gold hook. 4347 products‏ – Alibaba.com offers 4347 rose gold hangers products. About 80% of . wholesale low price adult closet space saving rose gold metal hanger. US $0.65-0.8 / . Guangzhou Qianwan Display Product Company Limited. (5). 90.7%. 4995 products‏ – Alibaba.com offers 4995 rose gold hanger products. About 80% of . wholesale low price adult closet space saving rose gold metal hanger. US $0.65-0.8 / . Guangzhou Qianwan Display Product Company Limited. (5). 90.6%. Buy CopperKonk Polished Copper / Rose Gold Luxury Clothing Hangers for . Now I’m realizing I need more because they take up less space then my old . Buy low price, high quality rose gold clothes hangers with worldwide shipping on . Hangerlink 32cm Children Rose Gold Metal Clothes Shirts Hanger with Notches, Cute Small . Hanger Clothes Rack Nordic Style Clothing Hook Organizer Space Saver . Whether you’re looking for high-end labels or cheap, economy bulk . Buy low price, high quality rose gold coat hangers with worldwide shipping on . Hangerlink 32cm Children Rose Gold Metal Clothes Shirts Hanger with Notches, Cute Small Strong Coats . 5pcs Rose Gold Metal Closet Adult Skirt Dress Coat Clothing Cloth Hanger Space Saving Kids Baby . general wholesaler Store. 321 items‏ – Find best dropshippers for UK wire hangers wholesale and buy cheap . dress coat hanger Rose gold copper wire clothes hanger wn251 200pc . Min Order: less than . 24Pockets Clear Hanging Shoes Organizer Holder Storage Baseroom Living Room Storage Bag Shoe Rack Hanger Tidy Organizor YL875465. Shop Wayfair for the best rose gold velvet hangers. . this rose gold jewelry stands to add a touch of modern elegance to your space. Like tiny jewels, the pretty and delicate flowers stand proud and tall, displaying their beauty for all to see. Our 5 pack of Rose Gold Coloured hangers are perfect for your wardrobe . feel a little luxurious and actually seem to save space because they’re quite thin. copper-rose-gold-clothes-hanger-2; rose gold hangers; copper-rose-gold-clothes-hanger-5 . 16.5″ Shiny Copper Gold Adult Wire Hanger 100PCS Wholesale. Shop Wayfair for the best rose gold velvet hangers. Enjoy Free Shipping . Hanger (Set of 18). By Concepts In Time . Opens in a new tabSale. Save. Quickview . 4347 products‏ – MH086 Amazon Best-selling rose gold metal copper hanger. US $0.3-0.8 / Piece . Hot-sale cheap rose gold metal wire clothes hanger for display. Our 5 pack of Rose Gold Coloured hangers are perfect for your wardrobe items, complimenting your garment and wardrobe effortlessly. copper-rose-gold-clothes-hanger-2; rose gold hangers; copper-rose-gold-clothes-hanger-5 . 16.5″ Shiny Copper Gold Adult Wire Hanger 100PCS Wholesale. Products 1 – 40 of 551‏ – Buy products such as Whitmor Spacemaker Hangers, Set of 20 – Multiple Colors at . Sold & shipped by Mix Wholesale . Baby Pink Product Image Closet Complete 50 Pack Velvet Hangers; black with Gold hook To ensure we are able to help you as best we can, please include your reference . Amazon’s Choice for “rose gold hangers” . SPECILITE Clothes Hangers, 16 inch 12 Gauge Metal Wire Hanger Bulk for Standard Adult Size, Set… 4.4 out of 5 . I found a Gray & Rose Gold Velvet Hangers, 20-Pack at Big Lots for less. Find more at . Slim profile made them perfect for her small closet space. More Details. Fog Linen Brass Hangers/Remodelista Best Clothes Hangers, Scarf . Set of 6 Vintage Carl Aubock Modernist Coat Hangers Brass Gold Finished Buy Best Coat Hangers at Hanger Sale Coat Hanger, Hangers, Corian, Minimalism, Industrial Design, Concept . “rose gold hangers on concrete weekday carnival”. Products 1 – 24 of 198‏ – Hangers & hooks keep clothing off the floor; a scarf organizer or belt organizer helps stop the mad dash to get . Velvet Bedding · Farmhouse · Relaxed & Casual · Solid Shop · Perfect Whites · Throw Pillows Real Simple® 12-Count Flocked Suit Hangers with Gold Hook . PURPLE/ROSE GOLD Items 1 – 60 of 1120‏ – Honey-Can-Do Box of 24 Wood with Non-Slip bar Clothes Hanger . Wooden clothes Hangers for suit,skirt or pant,10 Packs-SortWise ®. COPPER CHILDREN WIRE HANGER (6); rose gold hanger . 12.5″ Shiny Copper Gold Children Clothes Hanger 100PS/Lot (kids). Price: $178.00. koobay adult clothes hangers include top hanger , bottom hanger , jacket hanger . Koobay Adult 16.5″ Rose Gold Clothes Hangers With Clips 100PCS. Results 1 – 24 of 522‏ – Beautiful Gold Aluminum Metal Suit Hangers Heavy Duty Coat Koobay 10Pack 17″ Metal Hook Wire Rose Gold Copper Hangers with . Buy Koobay 50Pack 17″ Metal Hook Wire Rose Gold Copper Hangers with Clips Clothes Stroage Coat Hangers: Coat Hangers – Amazon.com ✓ FREE . Checks, Address Labels, Wrapping Paper & Sympathy Cards. Metal Coat Spice up your wardrobe with our fabulous rose gold wire coat hangers. Comes in a . Buy products related to rose gold high heel products and see what . Not as comfortable as the majority of my other heels, but I added a cushion insert and . Results 1 – 48 of 886‏ – IDIFU Women’s IN2 Pedazo-C Mid Chunky Heels Closed Pointed Toe Ankle Strap D’Orsay Pumps Low Block Heel Comfortable Dress . Gold Gladiator Ankle Strap Sandals Chic Colorful Rock Stud Heels . Gladiator Lace-up High Heels . Casual Summer High Heels Transparent Toes. Free shipping on women’s comfortable heels and comfortable pumps at Nordstrom.com. . Women’s Comfort Heels ROSE GOLD METALLIC LEATHER $49.99. Apt. 9® Caspian Women’s High Heels · LifeStride Seamless Women’s High Heels. Black Smooth Taupe Rose Gold White Silver Classic Navy Soft Gold. Shop the latest styles in flats, pumps, sandals and more. Our shoes for women are designed to be flattering and comfortable. Browse David’s Bridal stunning collection of gold dress shoes including high heels, pumps & flats perfect to wear to a wedding, . Pink by Betsey Johnson. 26 Results‏ – Shop Women’s Party & Wedding Shoes for your special occiasion at Payless to find the lowest . Women’s Jisele Strappy Sandal, Rose Gold, hi-res . 52 Results‏ – Shop Women’s Pumps and Heels Dress Shoes at Payless to find the lowest prices on . Women’s Abby Long Vamp Scrunch Heel, Gold Suede, hi-res . EXCLUSIVE 25% OFF JOSE’s TOP PICKS EXCLUSIVE 25% OFF Jose’s Favorite RG&B . Adjustable Black Feather Necklace – RG&B Teaching Mens Fashion . RoseGold and Black Estilo de Hombre favorite products best Mens Jewelry Men’s Jewellery. . EXCLUSIVE 25% OFF JOSE’s TOP PICKS. Adjustable Black . With a black strap made from genuine Italian leather and a distinctive dial, the Classic Black Sheffield is a sophisticated timepiece that adds confidence and . Featuring a classy brown leather strap and an elegant black dial, the Classic Black St. Mawes proves that perfection in engineering not only is a possibility, but a . CALVIN KLEIN Minimal Rose Gold Logo Black Dial 35mm. SKU : 735258. 8,730.00 THB. Duty Free. * Airport Pickup. CALVIN KLEIN Minimal 35 mm is an . Black throughout with striking rose gold detailing, the G-Shock GA700 Black & Rose Gold Watch is . Pick Up Today – Choose “Pick Up In Store” during checkout. G-Shock GA700 Black & Rose Gold Watch. Item # 312917. $129.95. View details ▷. Pick Up Today – Choose “Pick Up In Store” during checkout. Select . Our men’s black/rose gold chronograph watch features a 3 hand Citizen Miyota . Pick one up, but beware: as soon as someone catches a glance of this watch, . FREE Buy Online, Pick Up In-Store On Orders $5+ See Details. Claire’s Buy . These stylish rose-gold tone and black glasses will go great with any retro look. #HangersForClothes #RoseGoldHangersCanada #RoseGoldSeashellMesh #HangersWhite #RoseGoldCmyk

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/iDRFWxF2pyc/grand-rose-gold-hangers

0 notes

grillpartsgalleryonline-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

3 PACK REPLACEMENT STAINLESS STEEL HEAT PLATE, HEAT SHIELD, HEAT TENT, BURNER COVER, VAPORIZOR BAR, AND FLAVORIZER BAR FOR GRAND GOURMET, BRINKMANN AND CHARMGLOW GAS GRILL MODELS

Fits Brinkmann Models : 4040, 4345, Grand Gourmet 6345, 810-6345-0, 810-6345-3, Grill Zone 6355, 810-6355-T, Pro Series 2210, 810-2210-1, Pro Series 2250, 810-2250-1, 810-2250-2, Pro Series 2310, 810-2310-1, Pro Series 2400, 810-2400-2, Pro Series 4345, 810-4345, 810-4345-0, Pro Series 6345, 810-6345-1, 810-6320-B, 810-6330-B, 810-4040, 810-4040-W, 810-7310-S, 810-7231-W, 810-7341-W, 810-7310-F, 810-7310-S, 810-7400-F, 810-7400-S, 810-7420-F, 810-7420-S, 810-7440-F, 810-7440-S, 810-7500-S, 810-7541-W, 810-7600-S, 810-8401-S, 810-8401S, 810-1575-0, 810-1575-W, 810-2400-3, 810-4580-F, 810-4580-S, 810-4580-SB, Pro Series 2400-3, 810-6830-B

Fits Charmglow Models : 810-6320-B, 810-6320-V, 810-6800-0, 810-6830-0, 810-7310-F, 810-7310-S, 810-7400-F, 810-7400-S, 810-7420-F, 810-7420-S, 810-7440-F, 810-7440-S, 810-7500-S, 810-7600-F, 810-7600-S, 820-7310-S, 810-8401-F, 810-8403-F

Fits Grand Gourmet Models: 810-6345-0

BUY NOW

#Stainless Steel Heat Plate #BBQ Parts for Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 #Grill Parts for Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0 #Grand Gourmet Replacement Parts #Heat Tent for Grand Gourmet #Grand Gourmet Barbecue Parts #Parts for Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0

0 notes

bbqpartsfactory-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

REPLACEMENT 3 PACK STAINLESS STEEL HEAT PLATE FOR GRAND GOURMET 6345, BRINKMANN, CHARMGLOW GAS GRILL MODELS

Fits Compatible Grand Gourmet Models : 810-6345-0 Members Mark Models : GR3055-014684 Backyard Classic: GR3055-014684

Material : Stainless Steel Dimensions : 16 3/4" x 3 7/8"

SHOP NOW

#Replacement Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet #Stainless Steel Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet #Grand Gourmet Repair Parts #Grand Gourmet Replacement Parts #Shop Grand Gourmet Parts Online #Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet 810-6345-0

0 notes

grillpartsfactory-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

STAINLESS STEEL HEAT PLATE FOR GRAND GOURMET 810-2250-0, CHARMGLOW GAS GRILL MODELS

Fits Compatible Grand Gourmet Models : 810-2250-0, Grand Gourmet 2250 Fits Brinkmann Models : 2200, 2250, 2310, 2320, 2400 Fits Charmglow Models : 2200, 2320, 583591, 810-2200-0

Dimensions : 16-3/8" x 24" Material : Stainless Steel

SHOP NOW

#Replacement Stainless Steel Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet #Stainless Steel Heat Plate For Grand Gourmet #Grand Gourmet Repair Parts #Grand Gourmet Replacement Parts #Shop Online Parts For Grand Gourmet

0 notes

lenakrruger · 6 years ago

Text

Recipes for Realtors: Tomato peach fruit carpaccio

For this recipe, you should prepare all the items ahead of time but keep everything separate and refrigerated. Assemble it near to serving time. Choose very firm fresh tomatoes so they don’t leak their water content onto the plate.

When preparing to serve, select a large rectangular serving platter, smear the plate with either my special Caesar salad dressing or use my warm fresh amazing blue cheese dressing; if you love garlic, when using either sauce, stir in a little oven-roasted light golden colour garlic purée from your refrigerated jar, as much or as little as you like; then arrange the fruit in symmetrical rows, overlapped with quite thick slices of fresh firm juicy tomatoes with equal thickness slices of fresh firm, skinned peaches.

[banner]

An even more interesting plate: use yellow tomatoes with the yellow peaches or go completely different and use white tomatoes and white peaches. Yes, they both are available white. Depending on where you live you might have to ask your green grocery department to order in for you. So, get organized well ahead of time so you know where you can buy what when you are ready.

Both fruits love fresh ground pepper, so use plenty, and just a little granular salt. If you can find it in a specialty shop, use garlic scape sea salt.

Just before serving, use room temperature sauce again to drizzle overtop the fruits. Yes, tomato is a fruit.

Serve this platter buffet-style along with a cognac marinated black mission fig tart tartin, and a pie-shaped piece of warm baked smoked Norwegian salmon frittata made with minced dill, a little mustard and Canadian goat cheese, using a dozen whisked eggs, a little flour, baking powder, salt, pepper and a bit of oven-roasted garlic purée.

Bake the frittata in a stainless-steel sauté pan with an oven-proof handle, on the centre rack on high heat, perhaps at preheated 400 F to 450 F.

Know your oven. If baking in glass, always drop the oven temperature 25 degrees. Test at a half hour but allow 45 minutes just in case. Set your timer.

The frittata is done when a knife inserted comes out clean. It’s no different than a baked custard. It will keep overnight in the fridge but remove it in plenty of time to serve at room temperature, or then reheat for a few minutes only at 200 F. Pre-cut into individual servings but serve in the baking dish with a pie piece serving lifter.

And the table pièce de résistance…add a whole beautiful round genoise, filled with fresh fruit and stiff Chantilly cream, to the table.

Remove one serving size wedge, so people can see what’s inside, and provide a long, thin serrated knife and a pie slice lifter so people can decide for themselves whether they prefer a tiny piece or an extra-large serving.

An urn of fresh brewed hot coffee might be appreciated, or even espresso (hint: make the genoise filling coffee cream).

Depending on what fruit you choose in the genoise filling, provide a matching fruit coulee in a small gravy boat, with a little ladle, in case someone might like a fresh fruit drizzle on their cream-covered genoise.

You could substitute a fruit cream-filled homemade, layered, horizontally sliced pound cake, completely covered in Chantilly cream and decorated using a forcing bag with a large star tip.

Use an offset spatula to spread the Chantilly and a sharp knife to slice, or you could pre-slice and overlap the slices on a generous rectangular serving platter. Surround with whole fruits; perhaps a mix of whole strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries or even gooseberries.

It’s a royal exquisite buffet table selection that is light and beautiful to look at as eye candy, making it even more delectable on the palate.

Easy to prepare; takes no time at all, and it’s all so fresh. The genoise can be made a day ahead, sliced into three horizontal slices ready to fill just before preparing the buffet table, but refrigerate either finished cream cake until the last minute.

Invest in a large plastic dome container to cover whipped cream cakes, to avoid their taking on any fridge fragrances. For example, if you have sliced fresh cucumbers in the fridge, remove them if you are storing whipped cream covered cakes.

Always add fresh cut flowers or at the very least, a generous flowering potted plant placed strategically or use a row or grouping of little pots artfully arranged in pretty little soup cups perhaps. If it happens to be pansy season or nasturtium time, they make great little container fillers as table pretty helpers, mixed with little bunches of fresh herbs for a little greenery.

Maybe choose a loud contrasting colour mix, or pair up using a matching flower colour for synchronizing. For example, if you are doing a white carpaccio, perhaps use stalks of white phlox or wild lupins. Strategically arrange bunches of fresh herbs if no flowers are available.

You could even chop fresh basil or rosemary and scatter all over the table between the food serving plates. Kind of like herb snowflakes. The fragrance is grand. Best perfume in the world, and a natural air-freshener too.

Offer a bowl of lemon wedges for those who would enjoy. Especially nice squeezed over the frittata.

A cheese board and frozen-grape presentation is always welcome. Freeze a cluster of seedless sweet sugar-coated grapes, green or purple. Keep refrigerated until serving time. Bunches of fresh basil are nice on the serving plate, put in place at the last minute.

Extra special treat:

For fresh firm tomatoes, any colour: If you have never done this, using a box grater on the course side, push the whole tomato, starting at the bottom tomato end, along the wide grating holes side, until there is only the tomato skin in your hand.

Stand the manual grater on a large plate and all the tomato pulp solids will be on the plate along with a little tomato water. Drain off the liquid (I use a small sieve) and you have the most fabulous tomato pulp that seems to exacerbate the incredible fresh tomato taste.

The fresh pulp can be used for a multitude of things, including a topper for a wonderful omelette, or as a side dish with my fabulous grilled goat cheese sandwich. Or just serve plain and simple as a side dish with any meal. Or mound the pulp on a grilled garlic-smeared bread, sliced on the diagonal to make an amazing bruschetta for a mega special treat.

Chop a little flat leaf parsley or fresh basil and enjoy. You could add herbs and spices, but just plain pulp is amazing. Maybe sprinkle with fresh real parmesan.

Why this process enhances the fruit flavour I have no idea. But it certainly heightens the taste bud experience way over the top. Try it. You might be surprised.

And now for a couple of hints you can’t resist. Buy a bottle of sweeter label Prosecco. Ruffino works. Pop the cork as you would champagne. Add it to a mix of peach coulee, made using your food processor and fresh tomato pulp (prepared as above using the box grater) combined with sugar-water syrup to which you have added a little orange juice. Pop the mix into a glass or metal tray that can be frozen.

Just before the mixture is frozen solid, scape from end to end using a fork. Re-freeze and process in this manner three times. Freeze and scrape.

You have made a wonderful “granita,” sort of a cross between sorbet and semi-freddo. A wonderful summertime treat that is excellent all year round.

Use an ice cream scoop and serve in a martini glass with a sprig of fresh mint. Works beautifully between courses of a heavy meal, as a palate cleanser. (Perhaps with a venison meal, or stronger game dishes, or roasted rabbit.)

Here’s a magical tip for not wasting any leftover Prosecco, for people like me who would have leftovers because I mostly use spirits for cooking. Freeze it in ice cube trays and add it to special sauces, gravies or even to soups; or pop a Prosecco ice cube into a glass of your favourite smoothie or fruit juice or into a fruit coulee, served in a bowl stem wine glass. This ice cube process will prevent the Prosecco from turning to a vinegar taste.

You can make ice cubes from any leftover wines. I know: some of you will say there are never leftover spirits at your house! Whatever suits your fancy. Many people who live alone avoid buying spirits due to the cost and fear of waste, so this great idea solves that issue.

The post Recipes for Realtors: Tomato peach fruit carpaccio appeared first on REM | Real Estate Magazine.

Recipes for Realtors: Tomato peach fruit carpaccio published first on https://grandeurparkcondo.tumblr.com/

0 notes

thehungrykat1 · 6 years ago

Text

The Garage VR Zone & Food Park Opens at City of Dreams Manila

City of Dreams Manila has been one of my favorite dining and entertainment destinations ever since it opened in 2014. I have always been fascinated with its exquisite restaurants such as Nobu Manila, Crystal Dragon, and The Tasting Room. But if there was one thing that seemed missing at the sprawling integrated resort, it would be a casual mid-level dining area that would be suited for guests looking for quick but high-quality meals. So I was really excited to find out that City of Dreams Manila has finally unveiled the country’s most attractive Food Park and VR Zone called The Garage.

This new food and entertainment destination is unlike any other food park I have visited in the country. The Garage does not just offer a wide range of casual dining choices from well-known restaurant brands, it also lets guests delve into the immersive Virtual Reality experience provided by Bandai Namco Amusement from Japan, one of the world’s leading video digital entertainment development companies in the world. The Hungry Kat was invited to the Grand Opening event of The Garage last October 14, 2018 and it turned out to be a one-of-a-kind experience filled with gastronomic delights and pulse-pounding games which I will truly never forget.

The Garage is located at the upper ground floor of City of Dreams Manila, just in front of the popular Dreamplay. The integrated casino resort takes pride in its many non-gaming activities and this is the area where most families and children usually stay, so The Garage provides a very convenient dining option for hungry guests. Entrance is free so everyone can enjoy its upbeat and energetic vibe.

I was met at the entrance by Ms. Romina Gervacio, Director for Public Relations at City of Dreams Manila who also happened to be celebrating her birthday that day.

The Garage is set in a 2,714-square meter air-conditioned area which used to be part of the hotel’s parking building. The location is quite spacious, with plenty of plush and comfortable sofas, seats, and tables scattered across its vast floor area. Its modern industrial interiors cater to a 563-seating capacity and was designed by award-winning Paris-based creative design agency, Malherbe Design in collaboration with Westar Architectural Interior Design, a group known for its strong sensitivity to contemporary design aesthetics.

Giving the food park further life and vibrancy are various graffiti works of two prominent names in the street art scene, Kookoo Ramos and DeeJae Paeste. You can find their works of art carefully hidden or elegantly displayed along the walls and corners of The Garage.

There are several dining areas available, so just pick a spot and then head over to the carefully curated selection of food and beverage trucks and trailers available at the cool and comfortable food park.

Hosting the day’s grand opening activities was KC Montero who brought along his energy and spirit to match The Garage’s entertaining activities. The food park offers a unique concept as it brings together 10 of the hippest names in the food and beverage industry and combines it with a VR Zone unlike any other in the country.

Kunihisa Yagisita, General Manager of Bandai Namco Amusement was present to welcome all the guests to the grand opening of The Garage. The company is honored to partner with luxury integrated resort City of Dreams Manila and bring to this exciting destination their first VR Zone entertainment facility in Southeast Asia.

It’s time for me to sample some of the awesome dining options available at The Garage, so let’s check out these 10 well-known establishments which include Hokkaido Ramen Santouka, Katsu Sora, Pink’s Hotdog, Little Flour, El Chupacabra, Pizza Grigliata, Farmacy, Chocol8, The Roaster and Juiced. The casual dining experience is also enhanced with the sustainability drive of City of Dreams Manila. Only eco-friendly, biodegradable and compostable plates, utensils and take-out bags are used at The Garage.

I love how they have designed the trailer trucks and integrated them into the space. You can really feel the open and casual ambiance, but without the sweltering heat.

Pizza Grigliata serves nothing but hot, freshly-made artisanal pizza which are uniquely prepared. Their pizzas are handmade from scratch everyday using thin crust dough topped with the freshest ingredients which are torched and grilled.

Hollywood’s most popular hot dog stand since 1939, Pink’s Hot Dogs, can also be found at The Garage after opening their first Philippine outlet at Bonifacio Global City in 2016. I ordered their Tokyo Dog (P250) which comes with tempura flakes, unagi sauce, coleslaw, wasabi mayo, and togarashi. They also offer the iconic The Hollywood Legend (P280) which is a medley of Pink’s eponymous hotdogs with chili, cheddar cheese, mustard, and chopped onions. Just beside it is Farmacy Ice Cream which serves fresh homemade ice cream “the right way,” together with an extensive array of comforting treats such as milkshakes, sodas, coffee, and pastries. I had the Triple Scoop (P230) which had scoops of double chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream.

El Chupacabra is a casual street taco bar in Poblacion, Makati which was one of the pioneers of the massive foodie scene in that area. They serve a delectable array of Mexican-influenced dishes as well as uniquely-tweaked versions of popular local plates.

Apart from Mexican-style street tacos, El Chupacabra is also known for burritos, enchiladas, and grilled chicken sticks. I don’t usually frequent the busy Poblacion area so this new outlet was a great opportunity for me to finally try their offerings. Best of all, parking is never a problem at City of Dreams Manila with their complimentary parking building.

I do love ramen and anything Japanese so I was happy to find the trailer for Ramen Santouka. The origin of this ramen shop traces back to Hitoshi Hatanaka who opened his own ramen shop in Hokkaido in 1988. Hokkaido Ramen Santouka’s well-loved ramen is characterized by its mild, pearl-colored Tonkotsu soup which is carefully prepared by taking the time to simmer the pork bones before adding vegetables, dried fish, kelp and other special ingredients.

I tried two of their popular ramen variants including the Kara-Miso Ramen (P395), a spicy ramen made with pork broth and seasoned with miso and hot spices. My favorite was the Awase Aji-Ramen (P380) which is their specialty ramen made with a combination of shio, shoyu, and miso ramen. I had never tasted a ramen using all three of the most popular flavors so this was really a surprising and satisfying discovery.

Another food truck specializing in Japanese cuisine is Katsu Sora which specialized in my new comfort food, tonkatsu. The restaurant is known for serving dishes that use four kinds of world-class pork that are of the highest quality: Iberico, Kurobuta, Shimofuri, and Sakura. This time, I ordered the Ebi Furai Katsu Set (P455) which comes with three huge tiger prawns deep fried in wood-fired panko, creating a crispy exterior while remaining plump and juicy inside.

Alongside the well-curated food and beverage outlets at The Garage are City of Dreams Manila’s own exceptional outlets servings beverages and desserts. Juiced offers a variety of freshly squeezed smoothies, slushies, and juices for those into healthy concoctions.

I tried two of their best-sellers including the Avocado Booster (P240) smoothie and the Sunburst (P280) from their Detox line. Both were indeed refreshing and made with only the finest ingredients. Coffee lovers should head to The Roaster which offers an array of gourmet coffee creations made from freshly roasted Philippine beans. In keeping with the resort’s sustainability campaign, the beans are sourced from coffee growers and farmers in various communities supported by the Philippine Coffee Board, Inc.

Those into heavier drinks can go to The Bar with its selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. It’s specialty cocktails include The Garage (P380), a heavenly combination of Jack Daniels whiskey infused with apple cinnamon honey, peach syrup, apple juice, and ginger ale.

Also a favorite is the Manila Five-O (P350), a cocktail made with brandy, Malibu rum, Grand Mariner, pineapple juice, and orange juice. You can also try the Jasmine Red (P220) signature iced tea made from Jasmine tea, apple juice, calamansi with honey, and grenadine.

End your meals with some sweet desserts from Chocol8 which features handcrafted chocolates in a number of shapes and forms and enhanced with special ingredients such as fruits, nuts, and spices. They offer white chocolate, milk chocolate, and dark chocolate bars and chocolate tiles. You can also marvel at some of their displays which are all made from pure chocolate!

But what sets The Garage apart from the rest of the local food park industry is its unique VR Zone which features a new generation entertainment facility that offers an exhilarating and startling experience with top-of-class Virtual Reality technology.

There are currently three VR games on hand at the VR Zone but more will be coming in the next few months. You can buy single player tickets for P450 each or you can avail of their group packages for up to four players. There are some age and height restrictions in each game so make sure that the kids only play games appropriate for them.

The two-minute Ski Rodeo is a steep downhill ski simulator that lets a player ski a vast snowy mountain course with sharp slopes and steep drops. Your goal to finish at the fastest time possible within the allotted time. I wanted to try this out for myself, but because of my recent Hip Replacement Surgery, I don’t think I’m ready yet for this type of hip action.

I was more than ready though to hop on the Mario Kart Arcade GP VR. The three-minute Mario Kart game lets you play as either Mario, Luigi, Princess Peach, or Yoshi and step right into the action-packed world of the Mario Kart universe. Your goal is to race against each other until the finish line through a course filled with traps. This highly sought-after game can be played by up to four persons who will battle for greatness.

This was actually my first time to experience a virtual reality game and I was really impressed with the clarity and total immersive experience of the game. I really felt like I was inside the game and racing against my opponents, especially with the 360-degree viewing angles. It was amazing that I could also reach out my hands in the air to catch useful items like hammers which I can use to pound on my enemies. We all looked funny waving our arms around but I was totally hooked on the game! Unfortunately, I ended up last among the four, but I’ll get them next time.

This next attraction is definitely not for the faint for heart. The Hospital Escape Terror can be played by up to four participants who will be entering a horrifying experience unlike any other. The lines can be quite long for this VR game which can last up to 9 minutes per group if you all end up surviving the terror. The goal is to escape and survive the dark, cursed, and abandoned hospital while being restrained on a wheel chair.

I couldn’t believe that I would be sitting in a wheelchair again in this game, because it was just a few weeks ago when I was still using a wheelchair in the hospital after my surgery. Thankfully, this is only a VR game but when you are inside it, everything really looks real! I have to gather up all my courage just to stay on my chair and not run outside, but it was really an experience I will not forget.

If you think you are ready to face all these VR challenges, then go and visit The Garage at City of Dreams which is open daily from 10:00am to 2:00am. Don’t worry, if you just want to relax and dine at some of the best restaurants in the city, then you can always just stay at the food park and enjoy its beautiful surroundings. Whatever the case, The Garage is destined to be one of the hottest dining and entertainment destinations of the year.

The Garage

Upper Ground Floor, City of Dreams Manila, Entertainment City, Parañaque

800-8080

www.cityofdreamsmanila.com

www.facebook.com/cityofdreamsmanila

#TheGarageatCOD #TheGarage #CityofDreamsManila #GamesGastroGalore #VRZoneCOD #VirtualReality #FoodPark #Restaurant

0 notes

bradbdormanus · 7 years ago

Text

Bondi Beach Australia: Surfing, Swimming, Sunshine, Shopping & Sunsets

No trip to Sydney is complete without going to Bondi Beach, one of Australia’s most famous beaches. It’s a place that you always hear about and hope to see one day, and in our case, we made it a reality, spending several days exploring Bondi Beach Australia!

Where Is Bondi Beach?

Bondi Beach is located in Bondi, a suburb of Sydney, Australia, about 30 minutes outside the city center. Its white sand stretches along the Pacific Ocean in a crescent shape and is home to some of the country’s greatest waves and surfers, as well as massive crowds.

About Bondi Beach Australia

The beach itself is only about 6/10ths of a mile long (1 kilometer), with areas for both swimming and surfing. The northern end of the beach is by far the best for families and swimming, with a low hazard rating of 4. But head down to the southern end, less than a 15-minute walk and you’ll find a hazard rating of 7. This is due to a hellacious rip current, which isn’t great for swimmers but can yield some great waves for experienced surfers.

The expanse of white sand beach is popular with both tourists and locals, meaning that you will be competing for a spot during summer weekends. But it’s a great place to catch some rays, get your feet wet in the Pacific Ocean, and do some people watching.

The beach is home to a number of events throughout the year, including the Festival of the Winds (a kite flying contest) and the City to Surf Run (much like San Francisco’s Bay to Breakers). You’ll even find the shore popular in the wintertime when temperatures plummet. This is due to a popular event, the Bondi Winter Magic Festival (usually held the whole month of July). There’s plenty to see and do, including having some fun on the temporary ice rink that is set up on the beach.

Weather in Bondi Beach Australia

Given that Australia is Down Under, their seasons are reversed. While we are celebrating Christmas in the states, they are enjoying late Spring/early Summer. January through March are the warmest months of the year, with the temperatures in the mid- to the high 70s during the day. Evening temperatures aren’t much lower, only dropping to about 68 degrees. There’s actually more days of rain in the summer than any other season, adding to the humidity, but it won’t be enough to make you curtail your activities.

The rest of the year temperatures during the day are usually in the 60s with nighttime rarely getting colder than 50 degrees. So overall, Bondi Beach is pretty moderate in temperature. Rarely will you see a heat wave, nor will you be so cold that you have to wear your down jacket and lined pants. That makes it easy to buy clothes but doesn’t provide much of a variation between seasons.

Our Accommodations at Bondi Beach

During our week in Sydney, more specifically Bondi Beach, we decided to rent a little apartment through Airbnb instead of getting a hotel since we were going for a more relaxed vibe. Our apartment located on Gould street, which is the street lined with boutiques. It was only one block from the beach and we were able to easily walk around and explore Bondi without needing to get an uber or taxi.

On our day trips to Sydney city center, we took about a 10 minute Uber ride to Darling Point Wharf and took the ferry to Circular Quay. This was actually one of my favorite things because you’re able to get a grand view of the Sydney skyline which includes an unobstructed view of the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I highly recommend taking the Sydney ferry at least once.

Things to Do In Bondi Beach Australia

There’s no lack of activities along the beach and in the suburb of Bondi.

Bondi Beach

In addition to being able to just hang out, swim, and enjoy a day at the beach, there are several local surfing schools that offer lessons at Bondi Beach, should you be so inclined. If you head up to the sandstone headlands that bookend the beach during the right time of year (mid-June through July)., you can get some whale watching in.

You can also take a wander up Campbell Parade, the main street that fronts the beach. It’s full of boutiques, galleries, cafés, and bars. A little something for everyone!

Icebergs Bondi Beach Pools

This is one of the coolest places we saw in Australia and a definite must-do on any list. Formed by the Bondi Icebergs Winter Swimming Club over 100 years ago, this clubhouse and restaurant, pool, and sauna are open to the public.

The pool, also called the Bondi Baths sits on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean, and it’s not uncommon to have the waves crash into the cliff and send spray up to the pool. For a mere $7, you can don your suit and jump in for a swim, enjoying probably the most incredible view from a lap pool anywhere in Australia.

Bondi to Coogee Walk

This is a coastal walk that runs from Bondi Beach to Coogee. It’s 6 kilometers from start to finish (just under 4 miles) with a few steeper sections and several staircases. The walk takes about 2.5 hours, not including rest and ogling stops. And you’ll be ogling a lot, I guarantee it.

The walk takes you above the beach and along the cliffs, following the coastline and passing by the Waverly Cemetery, smaller beaches, and more than a few cafés’s (which make for nice rest stops). The views are gorgeous, definitely worthy of more than a few snapshots.

Tamarama Beach

There’s a trail that connects Bondi Beach with Tamarama Beach (part of the Bondi to Coogee Walk). Tamarama Beach is about a 25-minute walk along the trail from the Icebergs (see below). While it is a small beach, it is reportedly where the “beautiful” people hang out, hence its nickname “Glamarama.”

Note: In the Spring (October/November), you’ll find that the section of trail from Bondi to Tamarama plays host to the Sculpture by the Sea Exhibition. So you not only get the magnificent beach and cliff views, but you can witness the magnificence of local artists as well.

Bronte Beach

If you head 5 minutes up the trail from Tamarama, you’ll hit Bronte Beach, a smaller beach popular for swimming and surfing. There are picnic table and free electric barbecues on the city side of the beach, as well as a playground for the younger set.

Bronte is also home to the Bogey Hole. The Bogey Hole is a heritage site that consists of a large bathing hole that was constructed in 1820 out of the rock shelf at the base of the cliff. While it fell into disrepair over the years, the government undertook restoration and it is now accessible and the perfect place to take a safe dip and overlook the ocean.

Surfing in Bondi Beach Australia

Surfing is a popular pastime throughout Australia, given the amount of coastline and giant waves available. If you’re an experienced surfer, you can rent a surfboard from a local shop and catch some waves. But if you’re a novice, you’ll want to take lessons from a local surf school, which knows the ins and outs of Bondi Beach and will keep you out of harm’s way.

Shopping on Gould Street

Anything you want can be found on Gould Street in Bondi: designer purses, local art, organic cosmetics, a cold beer. This shopping district is full of some of Australia’s best boutiques, but you’ll also find vintage shops, pubs, even gift shops for some trinkets to take home. It’s a rather trendy area and often crowded, but a great place to window shop or find some unusual items made in Australia.

Best Restaurants in Bondi Beach Australia

It seems like every third storefront is a restaurant or bar in Bondi Beach, but we managed to find a few places that we really liked and can recommend.

Best Restaurants For the View in Bondi Beach Australia

North Bondi RSL Club: You’ll find this restaurant in the…north end of the beach. The club has a bar and bistro, serving up some great pub food. Try to get an upstairs table on the outer deck for the best view of the beach (and the people!)

Bondi Icebergs Club: As noted above, this is a super cool venue with its pool overlooking the crashing surf. They have casual bistro-style dining in the clubhouse that offers similar views of the ocean and Bondi Beach. Burgers, seafood, salads, and heavier main dishes are available. They’re known for the Seafood Platter for Two, which includes king prawns, oysters, squid, scallops, mussels and fish and chips.

Yummy Breakfast in Bondi Beach

Trio Café: Talk about yum! This café serves up comfort food with a Mediterranean twist that is plated like it’s being featured in Gourmet magazine. Our Trio Breakfast Burrito was a deconstructed version, with the lightest, fluffiest eggs, chorizo chili, salsa, and tortillas on the side. But there wasn’t anything on the menu I wouldn’t eat. They had corn fritters, shakshouka, chilaquiles, mango and lime buttermilk pancakes, and so much more. Oh, and their coffee drinks are not only delicious but works of art as well.

Café de France: This restaurant is actually in Coogee, at the end of the walking trail and up the hill a bit. It features traditional French fare, like omelets, Croque Madame, and baguettes that taste like they were flown in from Paris. While breakfast was excellent, we hear that lunch and dinner are equally as fantastic.

Best Spot for Lunch in Bondi Beach Australia

Beach Burrito Company: Well, I’m from California and am always hesitant to try Mexican food in countries outside of the Americas, but we were not disappointed at this restaurant in Coogee. It’s become so popular in fact, that they’ve opened up a dozen other outposts around the country! Here you can get good Mexican food (and margaritas!) at a reasonable price, and the menu looks very similar to something we’d see in Cali (except for the Halloumi tacos). While burritos are their staple item, they also offer tacos, nachos, and some standard apps.

Thainabox: For 20 years, this restaurant in Bondi has been serving up noodles your own way. Yep, they have a DYO (Design Your Own) noodle dish, where you pick out your base (5 noodles, 5 rice or spinach), your flavor, your spice, and meat/veg/seafood option. They cook it up and serve it to you in a box. They also have curries, regular noodle dishes, soups, salads and more. All tasty and reminiscent of Bangkok street food.

Best Dinner Restaurant in Bondi Beach Australia

Drake Eatery: This is considered a modern restaurant offering a rotating menu based on the availability of produce and the season. While it serves breakfast lunch and dinner, we took advantage of it at night because the dishes on that menu are meant to be shared and we can taste a lot more that way! It’s an interesting menu, with chicken liver parfait, thyme gnocchi, duck croquettes, pork belly and other equally delicious items. Well worth your time.

Pompei’s Bondi: A little bit of Italy in Bondi here, with eco-friendly pasta, artisanal pizza, and homemade gelato. Everything is made in-house, from the bread to the pasta, on down to the decadent gelato. The pizzas, while seemingly simple, are works of art and utterly delicious (although much pricier than you would find in Italy) and the pasta is fresh and cooked to order so they are utterly perfect. Just make sure you save room for dessert. The gelato is made daily and comes in about twenty flavors, all of which look heavenly.

Bondi Hardware: This quirky place, which was originally a hardware store, serves some interesting cocktail and has a menu that’s meant to be shared. There are small shares like crab cakes, coconut chicken sliders and kingfish ceviche taco, as well as larger shares like beef cheeks, dug leg confit and grilled marlin.

Try their margarita three ways or one of their specialty drinks like Vin d’Hardware or Pepo.

Drinks in Bondi Beach Australia

The Bucket List: Overlooking Bondi Beach, this bar has a room called the Fishbowl that is a half moon of windows and there’s nary a bad seat in the house. This is where you want to be, sipping a cocktail and watching the sunset. They’ve got cocktails by the glass and by the pitcher, as well as some unusual selections designed by their mixologist. Food is also served if you must….

Hotel Ravesis: Also situated on Bondi Beach on a wide corner, this large, open-air beachside bar is great for people-watching any time of day. Try to get a seat on the upper floor terrace, since you’ll be paying for the view anyway. Cocktails are pricey at $19 AU, but they’ve got some unusual concoctions, like the Cuban Missile, Rising Sun (with wasabi-infused vodka) and the Beach Blossom. Take a chance and try something fun.

Best Supermarket in Bondi Beach Australia

Harris Farm Markets: Okay, this really isn’t a restaurant, but it’s the perfect place to go and pick up some fresh produce and goodies for an impromptu picnic – all locally grown. We stumbled upon it accidentally and couldn’t resist picking up goodies for our hike and to nosh on during our road trip. If you’re a foodie, this is a great place to check out.

Bondi Beach – Sensational Summer

As the title suggests, Bondi Beach Australia really has all your S’s covered: Surfing, Swimming, Sunshine, Shopping & Sunsets. We loved our time exploring this coastal town and hope to return and enjoy it’s beauty again in the future.

Stay Stylish, -V

P.S. If you’re planning on going to Melbourne make sure to plan a few days and do the Great Ocean Road! This amazing coastal drive takes you along beautiful beaches, amazing coastlines, and even some forests!

Bondi Beach Australia Photos

The post Bondi Beach Australia: Surfing, Swimming, Sunshine, Shopping & Sunsets appeared first on Stylishlyme | Personal Fashion Blog.

from Shopping Ideas https://stylishlyme.com/what-to-do/bondi-beach-australia/

0 notes