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whattolearntoday · 3 years ago

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July 22nd is...

Creme Brulee Day - Crème Brûlée has been with us quite a long time, appearing first in a recipe book by one Francois Massialot in 1691. Known as the Cuisinier royal et bourgeois it held the first recorded recipe for this incredible treat, though when it was translated to English it became known as “Burnt Cream”, which is perhaps not an altogether unjust description of this confection. Oddly, for all that is deeply associated with France, and specifically with Paris, from 1740 to 1980 it appeared in not one French cookbook. Considering that decades reputation for utter hedonism and decadence, Crème Brûlée came back onto the scene in a big way in the 1980’s, and became the “darling of the restaurant boom.”

Fragile X Awareness Day - Fragile X syndrome is a mutation of the FMR1 gene and is the most common form of inherited intellectual disability. It impacts men more than women, and while a person may have the gene mutation, sometimes they do not have any apparent signs. Those who do show signs may have mild or severe symptoms. Physical, intellectual and behavioral symptoms may appear, and they vary between males and females. Women tend to have similar but milder symptoms or none at all.

Hammock Day - A hammock is a sling made of fabric, rope or netting. When suspended between two points, a hammock forms a sling used for swinging, sleeping or resting. We usually suspend a hammock between trees or posts. The hammock dates back thousands of years to Central America where it protected people from creatures and dirt. However, the netted bed didn’t find Europe until explorers brought it back in the 17th century. Not long after, the hammock found its way onto naval ships, providing comfort and maximizing space.

Mango Day - Originating in Bangladesh and parts of Myanmar and India, hundreds of varieties of mangoes grow around the world today. Mangoes also pack in the nutrients. Did you know that one mango contains almost two and a half times more vitamin C than an orange? Mangoes are also high in vitamins A, B-6 and K, antioxidants, potassium and dietary fiber.

Penuche Fudge Day - Penuche is pronounced pe-new-chee. The Italian form of the word is panucci. The fudge-like candy includes the following ingredients: brown sugar, butter, vanilla, and milk. Lighter in color than traditional fudge, penuche tastes like maple thanks to the brown sugar. If you are looking to celebrate, many shops in New England sell this fudge. There they will add pecans and other nuts, especially if making a candy form of penuche. Southerners call it brown sugar fudge candy.

Rat Catcher’s Day - Commemorates the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. According to the folktale, residents of the German town of Hamelin hired a strangely dressed man to rid their village of rats. The Pied Piper of Hamelin did so by playing his flute. Upon finishing the task, the townsfolk refused to pay — so the Pied Piper returned. Once again, the Pied Piper played his flute while the children followed him. And with the Pied Piper, the children vanished, never to return. While a harrowing tale of revenge doesn’t seem like something to celebrate, someone found a way. Depending on where you live, the day includes festivals and re-enactments.

Refreshment Day - Celebrates fun at the hottest time of the year. The day toasts those moments of ice, cold refreshment, especially a nice cold beer. Whether you’re at the beach or wrapping up a long day of work, it’s nice to know there’s a glass waiting for you somewhere. The dog days of summer call for coolers full of ice. Long weekends and vacation days beckon, too.

#creme brulee #fragile x #hammock #mango #penuche fudge #pied piper #refreshment

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annabethy · 4 years ago

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“i just watched you walk straight to into a glass door, are you sure you’re okay?”

in which annabeth runs into a door and percy is there to kiss it better,, percabeth,, for ash!

Annabeth gets distracted very easily. Like, alarmingly easily. Someone can be talking to her, and she will genuinely walk away in the middle of a conversation because she forgot that she was already doing something.

When she was first learning to drive, she saw a bunny on the side of the road. She turned to look, turned the wheel too, and nearly murdered a bunny.

So, yes. Annabeth gets distracted easily.

Annabeth would’ve thought she learned her lesson about multitasking by this point. But she also has little self restraint, and very little attention to detail, so when she gets a text from Piper, she makes a very obvious mistake of trying to text and watch where she’s walking.

Annabeth is so distracted that she doesn’t notice that the store’s sign says closed, or that, you know, the glass door is closed. She slams right into it with her entire being, a loud and painful thump, before she goes sprawling to the ground. Everything inside of her hurts just a little bit, but she’s more focused on the way that her cup of steaming coffee is now soaked into her clothes and burning her skin.

“Fantastic,” she mutters, lifting herself off the ground slowly. Her previously white shirt has quickly become brown and sheer. She sits up and has to stop moving entirely, her head feeling a bit light and sight dotting around the edges. Just as she’s about to stand up, the door clicks open, and–

“Are you okay?”

She looks up and is met with a face that makes her wish the door had just taken her right out. “Percy,” she breathes out.

He blinks before bending down beside her. He’s still holding the door open with one arm as his other hand reaches out to grab her upper arm. It makes her skin flush instantaneously because of course she’d be lucky enough to have Percy be the one to watch her nearly take herself out. It’s not that he’d make fun of her because he’s her best friend, but he just also happens to be the person she’s a tad bit in love with.

“Did you mean to run into the door?” he questions, lifting her chin to look her in the eyes. He looks concerned, and she has to withstand reaching out to smooth between his brows.

She groans, shoving his hands away before she does something dumb. “Yes, I meant to run into a door with you of all people watching me.”

Percy cracks a grin, but the worried look stays in his eyes. “I see the door didn’t knock the smartass out of you.” He stands up and holds out a hand for her to take. Instead, she pointedly helps herself off the ground, and he retracts his arm carefully. “Come inside.”

“No thank you,” she says, examining her cut palms. “The shop is closed. Do you wanna know how I know?”

Percy looks at her, amused. “Because you ran into the closed door?”

“Because I ran into the closed door,” she repeats, exasperated. Annabeth leans down to pick the few things she dropped before standing tall. “I’m so sorry you had to witness such a humiliating event.”

“It’s not humiliating,” he tries to console, but she just hums in disagreement. She stares at him, on the verge of tears or laugher (she can’t really tell), before she decides she should probably just walk away. She doesn’t get the chance to walk away though, because Percy’s hand shoots out to wrap around her wrist. “Come inside,” he pleads. “At least let me get you a different shirt that isn’t covered in your signature caramel brulee with vanilla sweet cream cold foam.”

“You know my drink?”

Percy rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ve only been getting it for you for years now.” He tugs on her hand again. “Come on.”

She wants to say no, but his thumb is rubbing against her inner wrist, and he’s looking at her with such cute, pleading eyes that she can’t say no.

He leads her inside, locking the door behind them so that no wandering customers come in so late at night, before he pulls out a chair at the coffee bar and forces her to sit in it.

“You’re not wearing the apron,” she notices, looking him up and down.

He’s rummaging around through something behind the counter when he answers, “I was just about to leave.”

“Until your best friend ran into a door, right?”

Percy looks back up at her with a smirk. “Something like that.”

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Don’t be,” he says, coming back around the counter with a mini first aid box in hand. “You’re much more important than an extra thirty minutes of sleep anyways.”

“Aw,” she teases, but her neck is slowly creeping back up with redness. “You think I’m important.”

“Of course you are,” he chides. “Don’t be silly.”

He opens the box in front of her and steps between the space of her legs. He’s so close that she can feel the heat radiating from his body. It sends shivers through her body, and it’s something that he notices. She doesn’t have any time to protest before he pulls his jacket off of himself and thrusts it into her arms.

“Percy.”

“Take it.”

“This is your jacket,” she says, pushing it back to him, but he just moves her hand back to her own lap.

“I can see your bra,” he tells her. “I don’t want people on the streets of Manhattan to be staring at my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“My best friend, of course. What else could I mean?” But the way he says it lets her know he had an entirely different meaning behind his words than he’s trying to play it off as.

She just half-heartedly shoves him away, but he only moves back into place. “You suck at making people feel better.”

“I like to think I always make you feel better.”

She sputters for air. “Yeah, well– my nose hurts.”

Percy bites his lip. “Your nose hurts.”

“Uh… yes.”

He stands up straight, and she honestly expects him to tease her some more. Instead, he plants his lips over her nose, giving her a light kiss.

“Better?” he asks, pulling away.

Annabeth can only make a strangled sound in response. Percy looks rather amused, and also like he’s looking at something adorable. “No,” she says.

“No?” Percy pouts his lips. “Do you need a real kiss to feel better?”

It’s then that she realizes that he knows. He has to, because this is not the way he normally acts, but he’s being so teasing and sweet and he just kissed her on the nose, which is definitely not something friends do.

He knows.

“Stop it,” she complains quietly, looking anywhere except at him. He just follows her gaze though, ducking his head down so he can look her in the eyes.

“Annabeth, my dear.”

“Who told you?”

He leans back. “Piper let it slip.”

“Oh my god.”

“She’s terrible at keeping secrets,” Percy says. “I don’t know why you trusted her of all people.”

“Who else could I have told?”

“Me.”

She scoffs. “You wanted me to go up to you and be like by the way, I’m just a little bit in love with you.”

Percy smiles. “In love with me?”

“Don’t even speak.”

He laughs, but it doesn’t sound like it’s directed at her. “Annabeth. I just watched you walk straight into a door. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“The only thing that’s hurt is my dignity.”

Percy’s eyes dart down to her lips. “Then I guess that means you’d be alright if I kissed you?”

Annabeth’s heart stops. She’s about to tell him to stop playing around, but there’s a shift in the room. Suddenly, something tells her that he’s not playing around at all. His eyes look at her with such affection – and something that looks like love – that she knows she can’t be making this up in her head.

So she says, “I guess so,” and her world stops. He kisses her slowly, and it feels like kissing her best friend. It feels like coming home. The bruise in her pride is fixed because she now knows he’s as in love with her as she is with him.

He pulls away, presses his forehead to hers. He’s breathing hard, and when he speaks, she expects it to be something sweet. Instead, it’s, “I can’t believe you ran into a door.”

She throws her head back in a laugh, pulling the long sleeves of his jacket past her fingers before grabbing and smooshing his cheeks. “I can’t believe you used me running into a door to make a move.” Percy’s nose nudges hers. “How’s your dignity feeling now? Did I kiss it better?”

Annabeth hums. “Not quite.”

“I guess I better try again, then.”

And he does try, again and again.

for ash!! because she is my friend and also deserves it and also i felt like dedicating a fic to her. ash my dear i am sorry for always texting u but thank you for always answering me anyways. u truly do not know how much i actually like you as a person which does not happen often🤧seriously did u know u texted me while i was driving and i nearly ran a kid over in the school parking lot?? (jk i don’t text and drive. don’t do that kids) but anyways love u hope school gets better! (and ash is obvi @skaterannabeth go follow her)

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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simpingforpjo · 4 years ago

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Leo: No Piper for the last time I won't help you commit arson

Piper: arson? It's not arson

Piper: it's crime brulee✨

#heroes of olympus incorrect quotes #incorrect heroes of olympus #incorrect heroes of olympus quotes #heroes of olympus #hoo incorrect quotes #incorrect hoo quotes #hoo series #hoo #piper mclean #leo valdez

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

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Day 11: “Your place is on the throne.” “My place is by your side.”

Masterlist

canon-compliant

cheiristis: wielder (greek); bellator: warrior (latin)

Jason Grace does not have a good feeling about this. A god showing up at your doorstep is one thing, but being summoned to Olympus? Well it would make anyone jumpy. And gods is he jumpy. Just this morning he had dropped a shampoo bottle in the shower and screamed so loudly Leo had rushed in hands blazing, eyes wild, yelling about killing the monster. And to make matters worse, Jason hadn’t really slept in the three days since Chiron had delivered the news. He burns holes in the rug underneath him, trying, and failing, to ignore the glare of the Zeus statue in his cabin.

“I don’t need that look from you,” He hisses, “I’m already going to see it in person.”

The stare seems to be steel as it continues to pierce him. He turns away with disgust, and lets the fear in his stomach churn like acid. Just when he feels like he can’t take it any longer, the alarm on his phone blares to life and with it a flash of lightning in the otherwise blue skies.

“Welcome to doomsday.”

Jason grabs his sword from the table, swinging it around and sliding it into the pouch at his back and with a final look around the cabin he takes to the skies, letting the wind carry him to Olympus. Tempest would have been too volatile, and he didn’t want to do anything to set off the Gods, who angered if you so much as breathed wrong in their direction. Oversized, all-powerful toddlers.

It didn’t take him long to get to the Empire State, the tall spire jutting out against the swirl of golden clouds that always seemed to cover it when Olympians were present. He pulls up fast against the building and takes several breaths, trying to pull the depleting oxygen that comes from being so high up.

A crack of thunder slams into his skull. His whole body goes stiff with pain. It takes him a second to realise he wasn’t struck, it was just right next to him.

“I’m coming, you bastard!” He growls, and he hopes his father heard.

He steps onto the stone bridge of Olympus, lined with fruit trees and their dancing nymphs, and he wonders if this scene has ever inspired peace in those who come. Mostly it makes him nervous. What horrors have occurred in the throne room while the melodic reed-pipes of the satyrs play out here, harmonising to suffering like it is the greatest symphony? He shudders as he moves to the marbled floor of the entrance, and then suddenly he’s at the doors to the formidable room. The cyclopes that stand guard are looking at him, unblinking.

“I have an audience with Zeus.”

“Name?” One of them grunts.

“Jason.” His voice is shaky and he hates it. “Jason Grace.”

They share a look, and then push open the massive sea-stone doors. The gush of power that rushes out threatens to bowl him over, but he pushes down on the soles of his feet and growls with the force of staying put.

“Ah, our honoured guest.” A deep, gravelly voice mutters, “So glad you could join us.”

Jason Grace looks up, lightning blazing in those blue eyes, and catches his first glimpse of the almighty gods. There are seven of them present, most looking bored or agitated. His father sits at the head, staring at him. There is no emotion on his face, and it is that that makes the demigod move into the room.

“Father,” He bows. He refuses to look to his right.

“Stand child,” Zeus’ voice reminds him of mountains, treacherous.

The room is silent for a beat, as if each of them are holding their breaths, waiting for… something.

“Do you know why we called you here today?”

“No.” He wants to scream. “Father.”

“Cheiristis.” The King of the Gods calls. Every muscle in Jason’s body tenses, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, his eyes slide to the right.

There, in all her beautiful, composed glory, blonde curls dragged into a small knot at the base of her neck, and grey eyes as calm as lazing rivers, is Annabeth Chase.

“Hello Jason,” She says softly, stepping down from her throne of cities and floating towards him like a wraith. Like a star. Like a queen. Like a goddess.

“Hello Annabeth,” He cannot keep the emotions out of his voice, ones that threaten to shut his body down, overwhelm him.

“You are looking good.” They had seen each other only a handful of times since that fateful day, but no matter how long they spent apart the crackling energy between them, as alive as electric wires, never ceases. In fact since the last time- four months, twenty days, and roughly one hour- it seems to have grown. He can almost taste the current between them. It is crème brulee dissolving on his tongue.

“So are you,” His voice is soft, like he’s afraid talking too loudly will fracture the moment. They stare at each other, lost in clouded skies and falling oceans and the beginning or the middle, or something between, that ignites their every nerve. He cannot get over how she glows; like light bends towards her, for her. Even all those years ago, when Piper went through her transformation after being claimed she didn’t look as radiant as Annabeth does now.

“What am i doing here?”

She brings a hand towards him, brushes her fingers over his cheek. He fights to stay still, to not lean into it. “Always so serious my bellator.” She smiles. It pierces the darkest parts of his soul.

“It is not often I get called to the home of the gods.”

“I am sorry, I haven't come to visit.” Her eyes shutter; he sees the regret and worry flash in them.

“Don’t.” His voice is still soft, but there is firmness behind it that makes her look up. “You are busy. You are a god. I didn’t expect you to be with us all the time. Nobody does.”

She bites her lip, and he knows she’s holding in everything she’s no longer allowed to show. Instead she throws her arms around his neck, and mumbles ‘thank you’ into every hollowed part of him.

“We miss you.” He tries not to sink into her arms. He’ll never leave. “I miss you.” He pulls back, but isn’t willing to let her go completely. “But your place is on the throne, helping us from here.”

The unshed tears in her eyes make them look like swelling rain clouds. “Sometimes I feel like-” She cracks. “Like my place is by your side. Nowhere else.”

“Are you two done?” That same gravelly voice that greeted him at the door drawls sarcastically.

“Shut it Ares.” Annabeth growls. “The only thing on your schedule for today is getting rejected by Aphrodite yet again.” A murmur of amusement travels through the room as the rest of the gods rib him endlessly.

Jason takes the moment to pull her close once more. “We will be together again soon.”

“I know my bellator.” Her presence disintegrates in his arms and then she is back on her throne. “Son of Jupiter.” She is all goddess. “We need your help.”

He falls to his knees in front of them. “Anything for you, my lady.”

Annabeth hides her smile, but he can see it glittering in her features. Jason Grace winks at the Goddess of Demigod Battle and accepts the fate that will bring him one step closer to his wife.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags:

@nishlicious-01

@spoopylucy

@leydiangelo

#jasabeth #12 days of fanfics #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #jason grace #annabeth chase

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danselot · 3 years ago

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What do you think would be the companions’ favorite desserts?

Cait - Chocolate chip cookies.

Curie - Canonically as a Gen3 synth, snack cakes. Headcanonically, Apple crumble. (You'd think it would be some fussy French patisserie but nope. Plain old simple American apple pie filling with some sort of crust or topping.)

Danse - Canonically as a Gen3 synth, snack cakes. Headcanonically, macarons.

Deacon - (Caramel) Flan. But he tells people his favorite is some horrifying gelatin 70s-dinner-party-esque concoction that gets a little more disturbing with each retelling, or fruitcake.

Hancock - When he's high, every dessert is his favorite thing. (Except rose. He had a rose-flavored dessert once while high and he thought he was eating a floral soap and got really freaked out.) On the rare occasion he's not, he prefers things with more bitterness -- really dark chocolate, boozy desserts with a kick, that kind of thing.

Macready - Anything with cherries. Black Forest Cake, Cherry Pie, those chocolate cherry candies...

Nick - Not really a sweets guy or a food guy for that matter. He does have smell receptors and he likes the smell of burnt sugar (so things like creme brulee.) Human Nick liked butterscotch.

Piper - She likes dessert period as long as it doesn't have fruit in it. (Apples get a pass, barely.) Favorite is churros.

Preston - Baklava. Really any dessert that's pistachio-based or involves nuts, he's a fan.

X6 - Canonically as a Gen3 synth, snack cakes. Headcanonically.... also snack cakes.

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years ago

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01. Charper (No)… Jasplotte!

So, OKAY - me and @chenoahchantel have been discussing Chasper and me doing a Chasper story. I’m in that thing and it’s happening. We shall see how it goes. Lemme know what you think. I still don’t know the name of this thing, but since it’s only the first chapter, I have time to think of one to tag the posts as. This IS an endgame story, not a brotp story. Happy Reading.

Only just for a moment, things got a little weird. Charlotte dreamed about Henry. Henry dreamed about Charlotte. She was brave enough to run hers by him in the lion’s den. He’d rather sew his own lips shut than to bring up the dreams that he had had. But, then… Things between them neutralized. As soon as he took his own advice - “Dreams are weird, Dude.”

But, there was another reason that things went back to normal for Charlotte and Henry… Because things got really weird with her and Jasper, or at least it seemed that way to Henry.

He first noticed it whenever they went into the Mole people tunnels. Charlotte was uncharacteristically carefree and upon realizing that they could tunnel their way to Nacho Ball, the gang went into the tunnels for a friends’ day out. Well, when they hit up Six Poles Over Swellview, Jasper kept rushing to sit with her on rides and then won her a stuffed dinosaur. Jasper was always very competitive, so Henry didn’t think much about the number of times he tried to get that plushie for her. Ray’s only rule was that Jasper not sit on rides with him, so Jasper clinging to Char there wasn’t completely out of character either.

Whenever the mole people threatened them, more than a few times, Jasper seemed to be trying to block Charlotte from them. He figured it was one of those natural reflexes. Jasper was a gentleman, after all. It could be perfectly normal for him to be that guy, the one that tries to defend a lady. Henry just wasn’t sure if he’d seen Jasper do this before, for Charlotte, that is. He’d seen him straight up attack a vacuum moments after it sucked her up, though. He’d seen him take a good cactus pummeling to guard a girl on the first and only date. So… Yeah, maybe Jasper did stuff like that all the time and he simply hadn’t noticed before. Maybe the only reason that he had noticed that time was because after the weird dreams, he sort of had been paying a little more attention to Charlotte. Not like in an “I want her,” way, but more like an, “Honestly, dude… Dreams are WEIRD” way. He kept wondering… WHY did they have those dreams about each other? Anyway, he brushed off the idea that Jasper was being weird around Charlotte.

While Jasper helped Charlotte load batteries into Ray’s spotlight for the imminent rescue, Jasper wondered, “Hey… Mole People haven’t terrorized you, have they?”

“No chance. We’ve got Mole People repellent on the grounds. There’s not a single pest that my dad would ever let onto Page property.”

“Cool,” Jasper said. Schwoz was annoyed that he was still tied up, but more irritated by whatever it was that was taking place with Jasper. He was being weird, even for him. But, he was following Charlotte’s lead, so hopefully soon she would decide that Schwoz needed to be freed.

After Charlotte rescued Ray and Henry from the Mole People, Jasper kicked a retreating one in the butt, and a blindfolded Henry punched Jasper in the face; they rushed out to avoid getting blown up. Jasper left her. Yep, typical Jasper… But, whenever she tried to run past, he definitely let her pass and pushed her from behind to speed her through. She, Jasper and Henry hugged when they made it out in time and looked at the spot where things collapsed. “Think we should have helped Ray out?” Jasper wondered.

“He’s. Indestructible.” Charlotte reminded him, with a pat on the shoulder.

Whenever Jasper showed up to their morning walk to work with her favorite cupcake and her exact coffee order, Henry’s eyebrow raised, though he didn’t say anything about it. Jasper didn’t get him any cupcake or coffee! They started talking about band practice and while Charlotte was mostly just eating her creme brulee cupcake while Jasper was just telling her how great she was at music, Henry felt left out. That was surprising. This never happened. Sure, they had their own friendship, outside of him and it had definitely grown since Jasper began working with them at Junk n’ Stuff, but… Now, they seemed downright cozy and, “REALLY, Jasp? No treats for me, huh?”

Jasper and Charlotte stopped and stared at him. Jasper was at a loss for words, but Charlotte swallowed her last bit of cupcake and reminded him, “Thought you wanted to make sure that your figure was ready for your Hot Boi Summer?”

Henry folded his arms and reminded her, “I can eat cupcakes and be a hot boi. I mean, look at Jasper!” Then he cleared his throat and Jasper blushed.

Charlotte joked, “Get a room, whydontcha!”

Henry stammered over his words as Charlotte continued walking, shaking her head. Jasper waited for a moment, then he and Henry whisper fussed, “What’s wrong with you, why would say something like that in front of her?”

“What’s wrong with you? That’s Charlotte for crying out loud! Why are you acting like she’s a girl?”

“She’s a woman! A beautiful, smart woman and you’re not gonna block me this time with your ambiguous jilted lover schtick!”

Charlotte looked back at them, not having heard a word of that, and said, “Well, I’m gonna let you lovebirds have your spat. I’m gonna get to work. Hope you work it out!” She continued walking and Jasper clenched his fists and groaned.

“Wait, Jasp… Seriously… Seriously? Are you really… into her?”

“No, Henry. God, you don’t have to be so jealous all the time.” Jasper kept walking. Henry stammered over his words again. He wasn’t jealous. But, if Jasper said that he wasn’t interested in Charlotte, he believed him. Jasper didn’t lie to him. He knew that he had no reason to.

Truth was, Jasper was scared. He didn’t scare easily. He didn’t shame easily. Jasper had very few times in life where he even regretted anything. He was confident and even if he was wrong, he was fine with that. He knew that nobody was perfect and he accepted that he wasn’t any exception. But, Charlotte was. She was an exception. She was perfect. He knew, from the moment he heard that she was dreaming about him that he had a new dream, a new mission and a new path to try to follow. But, he also knew that his chances were slim… And Henry had just made them even slimmer. He needed to separate Henry from this thing. He had to go it alone. That was cool. He and Henry didn’t have to share everything. Henry didn’t have to know all of his business either.

Maybe he’d gone too far with his ministrations if Henry noticed that he was trying to impress her. Maybe he had to dial it back. If anybody knew what Charlotte liked and wanted, it was Jasper… Not really because he was simply so good at knowing people, but because he was generally her first line of communication whenever she had a crush on somebody, or somebody had a crush on her. He was a good listener and she knew that he wouldn’t make fun of her, like Henry might, so she confided in him about stuff like that. Her advice to him was usually along the lines of telling him that he went too far with his efforts. That wasn’t what he wanted to do, not with her. So, he had to step it back… and he had to keep Henry out of it. He’d had a dream about that, actually.

In the dream: Charlotte had to stay afterschool because one of her fellow student tutors got sick, so Jasper brought her some Nacho Ball and threw in a burrito shaped stress ball because, “I know that stupid people give you anxiety and you can’t call them stupid in tutoring sessions.”

“Awwww,” Charlotte had said. But, by that time, Henry couldn’t hold back any longer.

They walked out of the school and Henry asked, “What’s going on with you and Charlotte, Dude?”

Jasper excitedly wondered, “You think she’s feeling me?” Henry snickered, then chuckled, then cackled, then tried to bring his guffaw down through catching his breath. Jasper frowned.

“Sorry, Bro. It’s just… It’s Charlotte, you know? Does she really feel anybody? I don’t even think that she’s noticed that you’ve been extra sweet on her lately. Speaking of… What? When did this happen? Why you all of a sudden into Char?”

Jasper smiled and looked up at the clouds, trying not to gush as he said, “Well, I overheard her talking to Piper and she said that she was having dreams about kissing me. I don’t know - I guess I never thought she’d ever think about me that way, and pretty much from the moment I found out, I’ve been into it.” He shrugged, “She’s really pretty and smart and if I have my foot in the door,.. I mean, why wouldn’t I try?”

“Charlotte was having dreams about you too?” Henry wondered.

“Too?” Jasper stopped walking and his head fell. “Not too…” He sighed, “There’s no way that she was actually talking about me. I feel stupid. You were right to laugh. Charlotte would never go out with me. Especially if she was actually dreaming about you, instead.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself. It has nothing to do with me that Charlotte would never go out with you. She’s Char. You know. Smartest girl we know and keeps a cool head, but she just… doesn’t really like people and stuff.”

Jasper nodded his head, but Henry could tell that he was bummed out.

Then, Jasper woke up and clutched his heart. He’d asked Charlotte about it and she admitted that she hadn’t been having dreams about him. He was crestfallen. But, she added, “But, I do think that relationship-wise, you’d probably be much better than Henry could be.” And to him, that meant LEGGO! He tried not to smile too wide at it. He failed, but she didn’t give him a hard time. And now… He wasn’t sure where he was on the path, but he wasn’t getting off of it.

#Henry Danger #A Chasper Fic #Chasper #Charlotte Page #Jasper Dunlop #Nesha HD Fics #hd fanfic

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networkingdefinition · 5 years ago

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Espresso Quotes

Official Website: Espresso Quotes

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• A good espresso to me is a little bit salty; you just become used to a good taste. Anytime I go into a new place and they don’t clean their machine properly or the water temperature isn’t right, it tastes awful. – Andrew Bird • American coffee can be a pale solution served at a temperature of 100 degrees centigrade in plastic thermos cups, usually obligatory in railroad stations for purposes of genocide, whereas coffee made with an American percolator, such as you find in private houses or in humble luncheonettes, served with eggs and bacon, is delicious, fragrant, goes down like pure spring water, and afterwards causes severe palpitations, because one cup contains more caffeine than four espressos. – Umberto Eco

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Espresso', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Been trying the soapy water and instant coffee method. Works somewhat, but boy it tastes terrible. I don’t know how you guys can stand it. I’m going back to milk and espresso for my cappas. – David Lynch • Can we just call them storm spirits?” Leo asked. “Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks. – Rick Riordan • Coffee arrived and the espresso was excellent, like an aromatic electric fence. – Ben Aaronovitch • Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes. – Alexander Pope • Coffee?” Santangelo calls down to us. We both look up. He,Ben, and Raffy are hanging over the side. “Is it espresso?” Anson Choi asks behind us. “Freshly percolated,” Ben answers. “You should see the gadgets they have up here.” Anson Choi aims a begging look at Griggs. “You want to sell out over a coffee?” Griggs asks him with disgust. “They’ve got muffins as well,” I tell them. “Double chocolate chip. His mum made them.” Griggs gets up and holds out a hand to me. “Truce. – Melina Marchetta • Compared with other Americans, journalists are more likely to live in upscale neighborhoods, have maids, own Mercedes and trade stocks, and less likely to go to church, do volunteer work or put down roots in a community. Journalists are over-represented in ZIP code areas where residents are twice as likely as other Americans to rent foreign movies, drink Chablis, own an espresso maker and read magazines such as Architectural Digest and Food & Wine. – John Leo • Espresso consumption is an aesthetic experience,like tasting a vintage wine or admiring a painting. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is a miracle of chemistry in a cup. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is to Italy, what champagne is to France. – Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

• Good communication is just as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Having acquired an espresso machine as good as a solid e-61 and a very good grinder, your incremental dollars will be best spent on either buying truly badass coffee, or setting up a roasting setup yourself that with lots of effort will allow you to produce high end roasted coffee. – Ken Fox • I bought an espresso maker and coffee maker and make them myself every day. – Utada Hikaru • I do, but I don’t like doing that. I would do it out of hate or anger. I would do it because some- one was pushing my buttons, but really I don’t want to break my back in some European city while everyone else is drinking espresso. I only do it because someone refused to pay for the shipping, or something like that. I don’t want to let a whole city of people down. – Josh Smith • I get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Richard Simmons • I got hooked on espresso when I visited Italy at 18, but these days I prefer a ‘flat white.’ It’s like a small latte with less milk – they’re popular in Australia. – Hugh Jackman • I know there are other writers who sit down religiously every morning, they take their espresso, they put a clean sheet of paper there and they sit looking at that paper until they’ve finished or covered at least a number of those pages. No, I’m not like that. I have to be ready. It has to gestate it for quite a while and then it’s ready to burst forth. – Wole Soyinka • I like the Valentino store in Rome.Because in Rome when I’d be riding my bike, that store is right next to the Spanish Steps, and it gets so crowded there, so I could sometimes duck into the Valentino store and go up to the top floor and have a little espresso and just relax and take it easy. – Owen Wilson • I love coffee. I love a midday espresso on set, just for the energy. – Carrie Brownstein • I probably have about four or five cups of coffee a day. I make myself an espresso macchiato when I wake, which is a shot of espresso and just a dollop of steamed milk. Then, if I’m going to do some work at home, I would make myself a French press. It’s the best way to make conventional coffee. – Howard Schultz • I used to have two double espressos a day. I gave that up, had headaches for five days but now I’m feeling great. – Hugo Weaving • I usually get up not before 9. I have a huge library – I’m a big fan of Scandinavian crime fiction – so I’ll usually take a book and go off to one of my favorite bistros for a cappuccino or espresso or maybe I’ll have some lovely smoked salmon for breakfast. – Anthony Geary • If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee. – Abraham Lincoln • If you’re a Kanye West fan, you’re not a fan of me, you’re a fan of yourself. You will believe in yourself. I’m just the espresso. – Kanye West • It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. … I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails. – Janet Fitch • Leo: “So…giants who can throw mountains. Friendly wolves that will eat us if we show weakness. Evil espresso drinks. Gotcha. Maybe this isn’t the best time to bring up my psycho babysitter.” Piper: “Is that another joke? – Rick Riordan • Now-what’s our game plan?” Coach Hedge belched. He’d already had three espressos and a plate of doughnuts, along with two napkins and another flower from the vase on the table. He would’ve eaten the silverware, except Piper had slapped his hand. “Climb the mountain,” Hedge said. “Kill everything except Piper’s dad. Leave.” “Thank you General Eisenhower,” Jason grumbles. – Rick Riordan • Once I had a potentially heart attack-inducing eight double espressos in one day. I think my assistant secretly swaps my coffees for decaf as she doesn’t want me to die of caffeine overdose. – Steven Soderbergh • Sleep is critical to me… at least eight or nine hours a night. I start to slow down my body and my mind at least 30 minutes before I get into bed. I don’t watch any disturbing or invigorating TV at night. I also get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Jane Fonda • Starving to be skinny isn’t my thing. When I don’t eat, it affects my mood! On-set, I fuel up with small meals and I’m always grabbing high-protein snacks, like almonds. Chai lattes with espresso also keep me going. – Nina Dobrev • The magic of espresso is that it’s only made with 50 beans. – Andrea Illy • The quintessential expression of coffee is espresso. – Ernesto Illy • The voodoo priest and all his powders were as nothing compared to espresso, cappuccino, and mocha, which are stronger than all the religions of the world combined, and perhaps stronger than the human soul itself. – Mark Helprin • Their offense is shakier than Katherine Hepburn after an all-night espresso bender at Starbucks. – Dennis Miller • There are certain aspects of acting that I don’t like. I’m not a person who loves being on set. I mean, I know people that have their espresso machines in their trailers and they like being in there and they put pictures on walls. But I don’t like it. I don’t like sitting around. – Joaquin Phoenix • To espresso or to latte, that is the question…whether ’tis tastier on the palate to choose white mocha over plain…or to take a cup to go. Or a mug to stay, or extra cream, or have nothing, and by opposing the endless choice, end one’s heartache. – Jasper Fforde • To me, every kitchen appliance is useful and nothing’s overrated. When I look at my little espresso machine, I don’t see coffee. I see a steaming valve as an opportunity to make amazing creme brulee. – Grant Achatz • Until now, I’ve been a kind of binge-writer – I’ll carve out five or six hours on a weekend day and make a large container of espresso and just bang out a lot of words. – Lev Grossman • Waitress!” Hedge called. “Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl’s tab. – Rick Riordan • We are too often double espresso followers of a decaf Sovereign. – John Ortberg • What I don’t like is breakfast in the morning. I have a double-espresso cappuccino, but no food. – Wolfgang Puck • What’s it like to be a baby? It’s like being in love in Paris for the first time after you’ve had three double espressos. – Alison Gopnik • When I first discovered in the early 1980s the Italian espresso bars in my trip to Italy, the vision was to re-create that for America – a third place that had not existed before. Starbucks re-created that in America in our own image; a place to go other than home or work. We also created an industry that did not exist: specialty coffee. – Howard Schultz • When somebody is a little bit wrong – say, when a waited puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk – it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if somebody is surprisingly wrong – say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order – you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your moth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word. – Daniel Handler

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years ago

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Espresso Quotes

Official Website: Espresso Quotes

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stardust-simming · 6 years ago

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Other sims that got aged up

Piper Brulee, made by @just-a-sarcastic-simmer

Sirona Phoenix and her younger sisters Eris and her twin Iris Phoenix, Their father is @prism-pop‘s Russet Phoenix

#Lavender Macaron #Macaron 2 #Gen 2 #BPR #berry sweet sims #berrypastelrainbowcy #Sirona Phoenix #Eris Phoenix #Iris Phoenix #Piper Brulee

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yewtongue8-blog · 5 years ago

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Patent Pending: the Searzall

by Paul Adams

[UPDATE: Now on Kickstarter!]

Finishing a dish by convecting the hell out of it with a blowtorch is so primally satisfying — thousands of degrees, high-velocity open flame, instant gratification as the food transforms in seconds before your eyes. Raw power!

But, apart from the thrill, a torch is kind of limited in what it’s actually good for. All that power makes it hard to get any but the most quick, unsubtle effects. Not to mention the issue of “torch taste,” the sort of not-quite-right aroma that can cling to torch-cooked meat. The interesting story of torch taste will be addressed in just a minute.

A little while back, Dave had the idea to hold a chinois over his torch and fire the flame through the metal mesh, to tame it down a bit and limit the torchiness.

Just a weird one-off, right? It turns out that it was a really good idea. Presenting: the best new way to finish meat.

The best new way to finish meat.

Brazed Meat

For a few weeks I’ve been testing out the new Dave solution. He and lab associate Piper have welded together a conical rig that mounts snugly on the end of a torch and shapes the flame into something more gentle and more useful. The interior of the metal cone — lined with nichrome tougher-than-nichrome alloy mesh and insulation — provides a little pre-zone where the flame can reflect and spread out a bit. At the end of the cone, the flame passes through a double thickness of mesh. It emerges as a — I can’t say “gentle,” because I have blisters that say otherwise, but gentler — flame, that doesn’t gust forth at high speed and scatter your brulee sugar all over the counter. The output is a superheated area, a couple-inch-diameter breath of heat rather than a focused burst of flame. The mesh glows and radiates heat, which is something a torch never does.

The device makes short work of a chicken skin, a French onion soup, a steak. If the steak is thin, you don’t even need to precook it — torch it directly from raw to medium rare.

I didn’t even quite realize how unhelpful an unadorned blowtorch was until I tried using it for all the things I was doing with Dave’s gizmo. Crisping a loose piece of chicken skin with a classic torch, it shrivels up — you can’t get the center golden and crunchy before the edges char black. I got the same uneven result on fish skin and grilled cheese: black blotches on raw surfaces.

Slip the attachment (which doesn’t have a proper name yet, annoyingly UPDATE: it is the Searzall!) onto the end of a torch and it becomes a tool that’s less finicky and more useful. It’s gentle enough to bake dough like a handheld tandoor, but strong enough to do a steak in a minute or to give a beautiful golden crust to a plate full of raw scallops.

I started pointing it at other unsuspecting items in my kitchen. Trying to peel hard-cooked eggs? Waft the cone over the eggs and the shell becomes brittle and unfrustrating. I used it to give an even char to oak chips, for flavoring young whiskey, and even to soften up some buttercream from a safe distance.

The kitchen was smelling really good by this point.

It also does away with torch taste. In side-by-side tests, chicken skin, one of the most torch-taste-prone surfaces in my experience, came out perfectly clean-tasting again and again with the mesh in place. Without the mesh, I perceived varying hints of nastiness, regardless of variation in fuel choice and searing style.

What Is Torch Taste?

The theory about torch taste has always been: Sometimes a blowtorch doesn’t combust all the fuel it’s blowing out, so traces of propane wind up on the food and impart a nasty flavor. Propane and butane and natural gas are all impregnated with sulfury odorants such as ethyl mercaptan, as a safety measure so you can smell a gas leak. Those odorants are another possible culprit for the taste.

Modernist Cuisine makes the claim that butane and propane torches are more liable to cause torch taste, “because the low-power flame can’t burn off the gas fast enough,” and recommends using MAPP gas or even oxyacetylene. I picked up a cylinder of MAPP gas on this advice when the giant book first came out, and at first I thought I was noticing an improvement, but then my dishes, especially ones with low surface moisture to start with, like fatty meats or plain toast, began tasting torchy again.

(MAPP is a trade name for a now-discontinued fuel gas that was basically a mixture of methylacetylene and propadiene, which burned at 2926°C in air. The MAPP-compatible torch you bought can now take cylinders of a product called MAP/Pro, which according to the internet is largely propylene and burns at 2054°C, compared to propane’s retro 1980°C. According to the cylinder’s label though MAP/Pro offers “3x faster heat transfer than propane.” Coincidentally, the price of a canister of MAP/Pro is just about 3x that of a canister of propane.)

Arielle Johnson, friend of this blog, has a gas chromatograph. (She’d be our friend regardless, I’m sure.) She ran some preliminary comparisons of beef cooked a) with a torch and attachment b) with a torch with no attachment and c) in a pan. Take a look.

Clockwise from top: cooked in a pan, cooked with a torch, cooked with the torch attachment.

The results want a post of their own, but what’s on the bare-torch-cooked meat is compounds — like phenol and methoxyphenol oxime — that may be more the result of too-high heat than anything coming out of the fuel canister.

Also interestingly, the meat cooked with the Improved Torch had big spikes in acetoin and hexenal, both of which are associated with pleasant, desirable flavors.

Coming soon: your opportunity to buy a torch gizmo!

UPDATE: This is gonna happen. There will be a Kickstarter. Before the end of November.

Source: http://www.cookingissues.com/2013/03/17/patent-pending/

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