#Hot Sandwiches

[askwhatsforlunch]

Cheese Toasties and Grilled Cheeses

Sometimes, when the skies are grey, the air is chill and our energy levels are low; we're craving for something both heartwarming and easy. Enter Cheese Toasties and Grilled Cheeses! Melted cheese may be the epitome of Winter comfort, and it always makes for something indulgent and tasty! Some of the recipes can be enjoyed in the warm days, too, and grilled on a barbie; a way to look forward to Spring and Summer, eh?

Quince Paste Cheese Toastie

Cumin Muenster Cheese Toastie

Goat’s Cheese Toasts

Nasturtium Pesto Cheese Toastie

Plum, Ham and Goat’s Cheese Toastie 

Garden Herb Tomato and Cheese Toastie

Regte Braaibroodjie 

Mrs Marlowe’s Cheese Rolls 

Braaibroodje

Mushroom and Cheese Toasties 

Ham and Spinach Croque-Monsieurs 

Margherita Toasts

Simple Grilled Cheese with Tomato Salad

Tuna Melts

Mediterranean Grilled Cheese

[fleshmonger]

Rotating Sandwich Mood Board

Rotating Sandwich Mood Board

[sheikfangirl]

Post-BotW - When Paya met Zelda 😅🤷‍♀️

She's hot for them BOTH! Paya is the ultimate Zelink shipper representation lol.

Cheers!

[sleepnoises]

SURVEY QUESTION: what is your personal favorite cold sandwich to make at home. alternatively, what is the fanciest sandwich you make

[poorlydrawninstarsandtime]

"WHY ARE YOU REFERRING TO YOUR FEET AS 'DOGS', ISABEAU. STOP IT."

[id in alt]

[fatty-food]

(via Instagram)

[trustymikh]

day 6 - cooking

since Ingo isn't a moring person like his brother, Emmet is on breakfast duty

[expelliarmus]

[daily-deliciousness]

Banh mi hot dogs

[writingduhh]

Ted teasing the wife beater … I 🤤

[calicoconstellation]

Hot take: SNAP/EBT (foodstamps) should be usable for buying hot ready made food. Not allowing poor people to get takeout is just punishing disabled people who can't cook just cause we're poor. I shouldn't have to choose between my last spoons and eating.

Second hot take: able-bodied poor people who can cook also deserve takeout. Everyone has days they're too exhausted to cook. No one should be punished for being poor. Easy access to food shouldn't be a fucking privilege.

-Saffron

[sentientcave]

Fuck-ass Mohawk

Contains: Alcohol, smoking (cigarettes and cannabis), Soap being Soap, Ghost being Ghost, uninvited touching, tall fem reader

Short little thing about Johnny liking it a bit when you're a bitch to him (And Ghost likes it too)

868 Words ~ MDNI

You’d rather stay home and play board games, but Laurie had convinced everyone that it was a good night for clubbing. You hated clubs— The noise, the crowds, the smell of sweat and alcohol and hormones— and spent the better part of club nights standing outside chain-smoking, or crammed into a dirty bathroom stall holding back a friend’s hair as she threw up blue curacao because she didn’t listen to you when you told her to eat dinner before going out. Tonight didn’t look like it was going to end up with anyone puking their guts up, at least. Laurie’s flirting with a gorgeous hunk with a devastating smile, and Alex and Hannah are dancing, so you go out the side door into the alley for some fresh air. Or air, anyway, since the alley’s where folks go to smoke. You light a joint, because at least that will dull the effect that the sound is having on your head. It’s getting close to midnight, which at least means the night is almost over, so long as someone doesn’t drag you along to some weirdo’s house. “Hey, wha’s a bonnie thing like ye doin’ out here all alone?” A voice purrs in your ear. You jump, surprised that he could get so close with out you noticing him, especially once you turn and really look at him. He’s huge, not that tall, probably your height when you’re not wearing boots (You have about an inch and a half on him in your shit-kickers), but broad and way more muscled than anyone has any reason to be, wrapped in a too-tight shirt, and smiling at you, bright blue eyes fixed on yours with unnerving intensity. He pats your shoulder. “Didnae mean to scare ye, lass, just wanted to say hello.” You take a big step to the side, establishing a new bubble of personal space without him in it. “Well, hello,” you say dismissively. “Goodbye.” There’s a snort from a few meters away, a big fellow with a kn95 mask dangling on one ear, his hand up in front of his face, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. “Och, dinnae be like tha’, hen.” “Don’t like it?” you ask, glaring at him. “Go away. Plenty of girls in there’ll go for whatever all this is.” A sweeping, unimpressed glance from his boots and ripped jeans up to his stupid mohawk would usually do the trick, but it only made this fellow smile wider. “No’ enough fer ya? I can sweeten tha deal some. The big fella doesnae mind sharin’ a sweet lass with me noo and again. There’s plenty of ye ta go around.” “Johnny,” the big fellow in question says sternly. His mask is back in place, covering the lower half of his face. “Dun’t look like she’s interested.”

“Tha’s where you’re wrong, LT. She just doesna want to admit it. Hen’s got pride. Wants to make me work for it, right lass?” He winks at you. “No. Don’t like your fuck-ass mohawk.” You puff on your joint, keeping your face still while he splutters, indignant. “Fuck-ass mohawk?” he asks. “What do ye mean by tha’?” “I mean it looks like you have a contentious relationship with your father,” you say. Maybe you’re being a bit mean, but it’s always fun to take a cocky fucker down a peg or two. “I don’t fuck with men with daddy issues. Most of ‘em are cops or military lads.” The big guy— LT?— laughs aloud at that while Johnny’s still looking at you with his mouth hanging open. The side door opens, and your friends pile out, Laurie arm in arm with her hunk, and Hannah and Alex clinging to handsome fellows of their own. “There you are,” Laurie says. “We’re going back to Hannah’s. Are you coming?” “Uh. I guess.” Laurie beams at you, and looks up at her hunk. “Kyle, do you need to find your friends?” “Nah. These lads right here.” He gestures at Johnny and LT. with a grin. “Knew Ghost would be out here, and Soap’s always followin’ him around like the big puppy he is.” “Ah’m no’!” You fall into step at the rear of the group. You’ll probably head home rather than join them, but Hannah’s flat is on the way to your own. Johnny and his handler flank you, matching your stride when you slow down or speed up. Annoying. “So what, is the big guy your replacement daddy?” you ask. “Wha— No!” Johnny says hotly. “He’s just my lieutenant.” “Could be your daddy, if you like,” Ghost says, putting a heavy hand on the back of your neck. “Got a thing for caustic little cunts.” “Oh fuck off,” you say, trying to shove his hand off. His grip squeezes a little tighter, and you try to ignore the way that core clenches around nothing. You channel the heat into anger, and dig your nails into his wrist hard. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He grunts, but doesn’t seem all that affected by your claws. “Look at you, ‘issin’ and spittin’ like a puffed up alley cat. S’cute. But save it for later, eh? Don’t want you to tire yourself out too early.”

[mc-260627]

Indulgence

[todayontumblr]

Friday, November 3.

National Sandwich Day.

In the 18th Century, a British earl named John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich, visited the Eastern Mediterranean. Here, he was captivated by the sight of Greeks and Turks assembling, and then eating, sliced meats within two slices of bread. Montagu would replicate this marvel on his return to the United Kingdom, in need of a meal he could enjoy with one hand and leave the other free for 24-hour gambling streaks. Years later, the #sandwich became a gastronomic staple. And the rest, as they say, is history.

It is the TARDIS of food. Meats, cheeses, salads, vegetables, sauces, spreads, herbs, and spices all arranged with deceptive simplicity between two slices of bread. Join us this Friday, November 3, as we celebrate US National Sandwich Day—and doth our collective caps to the Greeks and Turks to whom the world owes so much.

Is a hot dog a sandwich? You decide x

[babyblueetbaemonster]

Quest Failed

[fatty-food]

Dave's Hot Chicken (via Instagram)