#SPICY SHOYU ?

[ryescapades]

I would share my spicy ramen with you

OH WHHEWJEH ARE WE ABOUT TO

[blackcvrds]

noodle bar updates: im back again. its a four minute walk from my house (timed it)(dangerously close) and i got tonkotsu udon and karaage. i preferred the shoyu broth but the karaage were fucking. sensual. so crispy and juicy hhhghhggh

[sweet-akubi]

𝓡𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓲*ੈ✩‧₊˚

𝐹𝑜𝑜𝒹

[illegal-spiegel]

Quick Google how do you eat someone’s art

Happy Halloween, everyone! 🤗🎃

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. episode 02: right here

preview: ". . . It triggered a chain of thoughts that was unstoppable like a relentless river. It sculpted its route through the toughest ground, unyielding in its attempt to carve Shuji’s touch into your memory. Now, he existed in both realms for you. A boy that had once seemed so intimidating being the subject of your dreams was your last straw. Therefore, you left."

content warning: cursing, mention of violence.

word count: 4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @sin-and-punishment @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

➜ episode one

➜ masterlist [echoes of time]

Who would’ve known that Hanma would continue to torment you even after his departure? You haven’t seen the man in a few days, however you can count the hours you’ve spent thinking about him—of his dual toned hair, his golden eyes boring into yours. The way his grip on your hips was firm yet so gentle, a contrast to how he seemed to be living his life. His presence lingers in every corner of your mind, your goodbyes bittersweet.

He was the subject of your every dream, and when the first ray of sunlight hits your face, you are painfully reminded that he wasn’t next to you anymore—you didn’t even want him to be next to you! You start to blame your own celibacy. Your lack of action must’ve taken a toll on you if you were having embarrassing dreams of a man you barely hung out with for an hour.

As you prepare your morning coffee and plan out the rest of your day—Saturdays were for cleaning, you hated cleaning on Sundays. Even as you scribble down on your notepad, your thoughts wander away and find refuge in the forefront of your mind where your most recent dream plays on repeat.

It’s a teenager Hanma, a sight you never thought you’d see again. He looks the same, maybe a bit younger and far more excited to impose himself on those around him. It’s near sunset, Hanma drags you to the same ramen shop you visit on Fridays before heading home. He orders a tokotsu with extra pork belly and spicy miso broth, whereas you opt for your usual order of shoyu ramen. Your seats are close to one another, something you’ve learned to get used to. Hanma was a touchy person, often discarding his respect for other’s boundaries yet somehow, you were an exception of that. The only time he ever imposed himself, or his touch on you was when you were walking together and a ground of rebels dared start a fight in his neighborhood. His hands rested on your shoulders before he leaned down to whisper “stand back” in your ear—a habit you realize didn’t wither away over the years—before moving towards the group of rebels. They left defeated.

Your orders are here, and steam rises from the bowls in gentle wisps. You feel your mouth watering at the combinations of vegetables, chicken and soy sauce based broth. The texture is lighter than Hanma’s ramen, but you find that you’re more fond of the complex flavors that envelop your senses than the ones the tonkotsu offers.

“It’s hot,” he says in a deep voice, but as a teenager his voice still cracks. “Be careful.”

You’re not sure why your dream is so vivid, why it is offering so many details after a single meeting with the tall man? But you continue down dreamland lane, and you recall more specifics.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your spoon resting near your bowl as you start to blow out the steam from your hot meal. You should’ve listened to him.

“Told you to be careful,” he sounds annoyed, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back, his rough hand holding your jaw like a rag doll. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened—clearly affected by the hot broth.

“You risked your mouth for this, silly girl.” His eyes glance up to yours and he chuckles at the way you’re glaring at him. He lets you close your mouth, but doesn’t pull away from your jaw. You’re used to him staring you down like this, it was Hanma after all. A figure shrouded in malice and darkness, holding Shinjuku’s streets in an unwavering, iron grip—one that eases up in your presence, because no one’s ever seen him act the way that he does with you. His soft stares and less unhinged persona are reserved for you and only you, and one could swear you put him under a spell. But which? And how could you? A mere conversation with him on your way out of school, offering him water and asking if he was okay despite the blood coating his clothes not being his was all he needed to lessen the glares and soften the punches.

“I want water,” you blurt out, getting yourself out of his grip and breaking the eye contact that had your stomach twisting in knots. He doesn’t look away, watches as you continue to soothe your tongue by fanning it. Getting up from his seat, he walks towards the small fridge in the corner of the shop before grabbing a bottle of cold water.

He hands you the bottle and before you could thank him properly, you feel his lips collide against yours so softly—you would never think that the boy was kissing you. Because he wasn’t, he gave you a small peck and then proceeded into his seat like nothing happened. Maybe he was aiming for the corner of your mouth, maybe he didn’t mean to get so close to you—

“I knew if I didn’t do it now, I’d never do it.” Referring to the kiss. But then again, the tapestry woven from your imagination doesn’t seem to be the result of reality blurring with fiction—but rather a trip down memory lane.

Your pen falls from your hand as you hold a hand to your mouth and lean back in your leather seat.

He kissed you. He kissed you when you were teenagers and that’s why your bond was never the same. Navigating a relationship as kids must’ve been a strange and foreign area, and instead of communicating things—you two never spoke to one another again and each went their own way.

No wonder the memories of the man had a beam of sunlight cast upon them, you felt too warm as you remembered your times with him—but to forget such a detail…You want to smack yourself on the forehead.

Something on your wooden desk vibrates and you reach for your phone all whilst trying to process what you just remembered. However, you choke on your coffee when you read the contents of the messages.

XX

you never changed your phone number did you?

Could it be him? There was no way he kept your phone number—you read that it’s an unknown sender, but for some reason your gut is telling you to text back and find out who it was.

you

who is this?

XX

why so formal, doll? It’s me.

You can see the grin behind the screen, and you get this violent urge to smack him.

you

where did you get my phone number

XX

never deleted it

He doesn’t beat around the bush as always.

you

and? do you need something?

XX

to open the door for me

What—there was no way. You scramble out of your seat and out of your office, your phone still in your hands. You’re about to reach for the entrance door until you feel your phone buzz again.

just kidding

but do look out of your balcony

This time, you’re not sure if he is telling the truth. You hesitate for a few moments, staring down at your screen. Even if he was standing outside your building, you’re not sure if this was safe. If he was safe. Then your phone buzzes again, this time he’s calling.

You answer the phone call but remain silent on the line, the sound of cars honking and random people walking past him is the only thing you hear until he chuckles and it resonates in your ear.

“I can see you hiding behind the curtains, doll.”

“What do you want?” you try to be appear harsh, stern but it was pretty obvious that you held no personal grudge against the man to be so cold with him. Perhaps a little scared with his unknown line of work that hinted at crime and illegal activities, deep down you knew that it was only a matter of time before Hanma crept his way back into your life. You didn’t want to question how he was able to find out where you live—perhaps you should.

“Did you have brunch yet?”

“Huh?”

“Food, woman. Did you eat?” the answer was no. You were in the middle of having coffee when he called, and you were planning for a rather long day ahead of you so you try to decline the offer you knew was coming.

“It’s cleaning day for me.”

“I didn’t ask that.” Why was he giving you attitude?

“Yeah, but I’m saying it.” You glare at your phone as you step away from the balcony and into your room. Subconsciously, you reach for your closet and open it to see what you could wear out for brunch.

“Alright then, I’ll drop you back as soon as we finish eating. How about that?”

“And where are you taking me?”

“You’re all about detail, doll,” he doesn’t mask his amusement. “I like that.”

Trying to hide how flustered you are, you clear your throats to change the topic—remind him of your question.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Shinjuku Terrace city.”

The place he takes you to is a bustling culinary adventure located near the Shinjuku station. As you step into the lively dining complex, the smell of different kinds of foods hits your nostrils. The food hub offers a variety of restaurants and cafés, all lined up in order of what to try—first is a cute cat café that catches your attention, the smile that travels to your lips grabbing Hanma’s attention before he continues to walk in the direction of the brunch place.

It still feels like too much. Your lips remain sealed as he stops in front of a brunch place. Brooklyn Pancake House. With its charming façade and its large glass windows, it allows so much natural light to flood in and it feels like the coziest place to go to on a date.

Right, a date. This is what it felt like, but Hanma doesn’t say anything and neither do you.

As you step inside the shop, the large yet intimate dining space offers a cozy and inviting atmosphere. You weren’t ready to admit it yet, but Hanma had good taste in finding hang out spots. Speaking of which, you notice how he chooses the table in the deepest corner of the shop, away from people’s prying eyes. He sits so he can see anyone coming or exiting the establishment. You don’t question his decision, rather quietly sit facing him with your hands neatly folded over your lap.

“Jesus christ,” he chuckles. “You’re acting like I’m holding you hostage.”

Your cheeks feel warm as you scramble to grab your phone. “I’m not—I just—“

“It’s fine, that about you didn’t change as well.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you’re unable to bite your tongue for too long.

“I’ve grown, you know? I changed. Why suddenly come back and try to befriend me?”

That was an amazing question, worth a hefty sum of money—because Hanma wasn’t sure of the answer. Just like the other night when you asked him about his line of work, Shuji cannot provide with an actual answer. Having a routine helps raise a teenager who develops a sense of security, improved behavior and healthy habits— none of which Hanma Shuji had at fourteen. He doesn’t remember a day where his mother wasn’t drunk, but he doesn’t blame her for it. At thirteen, he catches his father in bed with another woman. He doesn’t hesitate to tell his mom, and from then on develops a raging hatred for his old man. His father tries to crawl back into his life on many occasions, but one stands out the most to the dark haired boy.

It’s a few hours until midnight, his mother was wasted on the couch and Shuji sits at the kitchen table with a chocolate bar and one lit, thin candle. There were no happy birthdays, no clapping like the previous years—just a home that was slowly crumbling and a boy easing his way into a life of drugs and violence. He hears a knock at the door, at first not bothering to get it, when the banging intensifies is when he reaches for the door knob and twists.

“Shuji my son!” Stands the serial cheater with a pathetic look on his face. “I missed you, how are you—“

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Never had the boy spoken to his father in such tone, but the adult’s responsible and authoritative image was gone along with their memories together.

“To check on you of course--!”

That night, Hanma discovers two things. One, he is good at throwing punches. Perhaps, the best and worst thing his father’s ever done was to make him watch boxing matches with him as a kid. Two, he learns how to treat his own wounds without his drunken mother stirring awake and tossing an empty beer bottle at him.

Amidst the chaos that was his personal life, a mom that was barely present and a father having long forgotten about the family he’s made, you were the only constant in Hanma’s life. For twelve months, three hundred and sixty five days—you offered the boy what his parents failed to do for the first twelve years of his life, before eventually giving up. It’s ironic how the number twelve keeps finding him over and over again. He drops you near Okube koreatown at 9:12PM, texts you this morning at 10:12AM, doesn’t hear from you for twelve years—he hopes he doesn’t wait for another twelve to earn a seat in the comfort of your heart.

As he comes back to his senses, he notices that you’re scanning his face with a newfound curiosity—most likely wondering what’s taking him so long to reply.

“Just wanna catch up,” he grabs the menu and scans the options for coffe. “For old times’ sake.”

“Could you at least try to sound believable?” you make a face at his ridiculous statement. Despite not having seen the man for so long, you knew based on the bored expression and nonchalance about life that he hasn’t had anything exciting going on in his life for some time now.

“If I did, I’d kiss you.” He sets the menu down, now fully staring at you. “Does that sound believable to you?”

So…Blunt.

“Seriously—“

“Why did you leave?” His voice is back to its bored tone, he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You know, that summer. I know we grew apart, but why did you leave?”

“I needed to start a new chapter.” You weren’t lying, but you weren’t saying the truth either. Starting fresh, enrolling into a college in a different city—those were the excuses you made for yourself and your parents in order to convince them of this huge step. Life was a mess during your first year, you dated a guy and broke up with him after a few months. There was no chemistry, yet he still ended up being the one to take your virginity. Tumbling like a house of cards, your plans for the perfect love life and its elaborate structure fell apart by the gentlest touch of Shuji’s lips. He had been your first kiss, the first to put his lips against yours, steal away something you’d cherished so dearly—annoyingly, you weren’t mad. You remember vividly the longing you felt for his lips days after the shared kiss, wanting to feel more of his touch, wondering if a kiss on the forehead would ever happen.

It triggered a chain of thoughts that was unstoppable like a relentless river. It sculpted its route through the toughest ground, unyielding in its attempt to carve Shuji’s touch into your memory. Now, he existed in both realms for you. A boy that had once seemed so intimidating being the subject of your dreams was your last straw. Therefore, you left.

“How did it go?” he stares deep into your eyes, striving to pierce through your soul and read you to filth. You aren’t sure if he’s always been like this, or if it’s something life had to teach him. Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the familiar sin & punishment tattoos carved onto his skin. It makes your own prickle, the ghost of a searing touch tickling the back of your hands.

“How did what go?”

“The new chapter.” He adds stress on the last two words, the hint of a smirk hovering over the edge of his lips.

“It was okay, I have some friends at work,” he seems to find that funny as he snorts.

“Those aren’t your friends, baby girl. Those are your colleagues.”

“They can also be my friends,” you glare annoyingly. You don’t like when people assume they know you better than yourself, and Hanma wasn’t an exception.

He leans back against the dark leather seat, lips twitching with amusement. “Sure they can.”

The waiter come and takes your orders—a breakfast combo of pancakes, eggs and bacon for Hanma, and pancake stacks for you. He opts for a double espresso and you choose a café latte. The conversation afterwards is very limited, but neither of you seem to mind the silence. You notice how Hanma glances at his phone more than a few times, typing not so aggressively on his screen. It makes you wonder yet again—what does he do for a living?

Your food comes and you eat it silently, Shuji steals glances at you to assure that you’re enjoying the food and is amused when he sees the expression of happiness painting your features. The pancakes are light and airy with a hint of sweetness that complements the velvety smoothness of the butter. You feel like you’re floating, indulging into a celebration of comfort before you’re brought back to reality.

When it’s time to leave, Hanma’s hand finds the small of your back. A gesture as natural to him as breathing, and you fold like a house of cards in a soft breeze. You let him guide you to the car, and the silence finally comes to a halt once the door to the driver’s side opens.

“Thank you for the food.”

Hanma seems to freeze at your words, but he recovers quickly and starts the car. Without sparing you a glance, he drives off. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you stay in touch with some friends from back then?”

“Yeah, Chifuyu and I are kinda close but he works abroad so we never got the chance to meet.”

Chifuyu Matsuno. The name is more than just familiar, Hanma knows the man personally. He remembers him in his teenage years as this annoying blonde guy who would always interfere on his missions, and as Toman grew and spread its vines over the streets of Tokyo, dominating each corner, the two men were forced to interact more than either of them would enjoy. They barely acknowledged each other’s presence as kids, which was also the case for them as adult men. But upon hearing Chifuyu’s lie, Hanma can’t help but wonder just how little you know about gangs in Tokyo.

“Works abroad hm,” he taps his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light, glancing at his watch. “Did he tell you what he does exactly?”

“I never bothered to ask,” you admit. Sure, you stayed in contact but everytime you tried to ask the dark haired male what he does abroad, he would switch the topic to something else. So you dropped it. A part of you was uneasy about the whole thing, how he disappears for days and then randomly texts you from a new number—tells you it’s temporary before switching back to his old phone number.

As a law abiding citizen, you are no expert when it comes to running away from the law. However, you’ve always suspected that the group of delinquents Chifuyu and Takemichi would hang out with were up to no good, even as teenagers. Revenge crimes, visceral and intense fights. It was ruthless back then, the teenagers combatting one another with a ferocity that left you disinterested and repulsed.

Moving back to Shinjuku refreshes your memory a bit. Years spent away from your hometown made you forget about the violence you had witnessed as an adolescent. Prior to meeting Hanma Shuji, Chifuyu boasted about Toman all the time. He had introduced you to the concept of biker gangs, mentioning each and every name he could remember. Black dragons, Tenjuku, Valhalla—and obviously the one he was in. A notorious and influential force on the streets of Tokyo, operating under the command of Sano Manjiro himself. You understood the pride Chifuyu took in belonging to such a well organized biker gang, perhaps finding it fascinating that they were able to function within such structured hierarchy.

Upon hearing that Chifuyu lost his friend in one of these brutal fights, you lost interest in them. But the names are like shadows that forever linger at the tip of your tongue.

Before leaving Tokyo, you had heard that Toman was spreading. Like a creeping shadow of dusk, it’s enveloped the town. Its influence a ferocious power that couldn’t be stopped but the thought of it performing illegal activities never crossed your mind. You’d turn on the TV every once in a while and frown when there’s yet another morbid announcement.

Breaking news: "Two people identified to be 26 year old HINATA TACHIBANA and 25 year old NAOTO TACHIBANA tragically die amidst a violent clash between two rival gangs, one of which identified as the Tokyo Manji Gang."

Your memory is like a dusty attic and upon hearing the familiar name, your heart stills. Like a treasure long forgotten, craving to be discovered, Toman reappears at the forefront of your mind. A timeworn tapestry, each thread holding the echoes of past and barely any interactions with the biker gang.

Reaching for your phone, your thumbs hover over the screen, contemplating whether you should start typing the message. Surely, you were wrong. There was no way for someone as sweet as him to be involved in such monstrous group of people.

hey

you haven’t texted me in a while

how’s everything?

You received a response five days later from an unknown number. It served as proof to confirm your suspicions.

Glancing back at Hanma, your eyes take in every small detail about the man. From his freshly shaved beard, his sharp jawline and cheeks littered with barely visible acne scars—to his lips that happen to sit in their usual frown. His lashes are surprisingly long, they flutter against his cheeks every time he blinks. Stealing a quick glance at his neck, there’s a tantalizing glimpse of dark ink peeking from beneath the fabric of his top. You let your brain go over the never ending possibilities of what could be adorning his skin, somehow leading you down a path of sinful fantasies—you pinch your own thigh.

He exudes an aura of authority and power, his confident and composed demeanor enhancing his charm. For now, you leave the subject of his work at the table and walk away from it with a shadow of doubt. You’ll come back to it when ready.

You ignore the gnawing feeling that you should look more into it, that youu should press him about the matter. Clearly, he's not ready to talk about it.

Or he simply can't.

➜ ┊: here's chapter 2! i have a whole list of headcanons concerning shuji's past or rather childhood and none of them are happy. but you'll notice that stuff like that comes haunting him back as an adult. anyway, hope you enjoyed reading!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[crehador]

i think i've said somewhere before that i like to imagine ichiro and samatoki both being not that good with spicy foods. that their spice tolerance isn't zero but they aren't spice fiends either. that they would both suffer big time when they get too competitive with each other over some spicy food challenge

but what would also be adorable is if

tdd era samaichi, they go out for ramen and ichiro receives the wrong order. instead of the lovely, mild shoyu ramen he ordered he gets a bowl of something with the word hell in the name. but he's not one to waste food so he's prepared to suffer through it to avoid sending it back

naturally samatoki notices that he's about to cry after just one bite, so he swaps their bowls and claims he fucking loves spicy food. ichiro, crushing hard, Remembers This Forever

years later, cohabitation era, he's having lunch with nemu and saying something about researching new spicy recipes for samatoki since samatoki loves spicy food so much. only for nemu to go "......wtf are you talking about that man is a gigantic spice baby" and that's how ichiro finally finds out he has been torturing his husband's taste buds. for years

[extervus]

Oh yeah forgot to update this but the sushi place we were gonna go to was actually closed for the game lmao, so we ended up going to a ramen joint in the same area and we were one of the only ones there, like it was so dead there that the employees were like deep cleaning the store lmao

Genius brained as fuuuuuck bf and I are gonna go out for an early Valentine's Day dinner today during the Superbowl because our city's team is playing in it and almost everyone is gonna be home watching it so it'll be empty as hell no matter where we go

[4littlefishies]

The 36th Floor

Chapter 1 - Monday morning

Chapter 2 - Nice Shoes

Chapter 3 - The Mandarin

Chapter 4 - Coffee Beans & Corporate Meetings

Chapter 5 - Spicy Shoyu Ramen

Chapter 6 - Drink Some Water

Chapter 7 - I'm so Tired

Chapter 8 - Kiss the Cook

Chapter 9 - See You At 8

Chapter 10 - Raspberry Cream Cake & a Chocolate Eclair

Chapter 11 - Consider it Payback

Chapter 12 - Seven Mismatched Candles

Chapter 13 - Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 14 - One Heart-Shaped Melon Pan

Chapter 15 - Who's Paying for This?

Chapter 16 - Flowers in the Fridge

Chapter 17 - Summer Tulips

Chapter 18 - Something to Cherish

Chapter 19 - Give it Some Thought

Chapter 20 - That One Looks Like You

Chapter 21 - Welcome Back

Chapter 22 - Could've Been an Email

Chapter 23 - Deal.

[shoverse]

I know you like being degraded, probably get so desperate anytime someone does it, but I’m sure praise gets you too.

mhm?

[cayde-6-hunter-vanguard]

Hey Cayde, whats your favourite ramen recommendations for a fellow guardian? You're clearly the only reliable source here

My ramen recommendation? Well it depends on a few things. We going out to eat the delicious broth or are you going off to get one of those quick to make instant ramen packets. No judging here. I too sometimes find myself on a time constraint but I crave the noodles. If we are talking about going out to sit down for some ramen? Spicy Shoyu is a good bet, if you can handle the spice. If you're a fan of the eggs? Just get the original recipe. Won't let you down. There's no difference on which meat you get but with Colonel? Just cover her eyes and she won't think lesser of ya.

In a rush and just want the instant ramen kind? Again if you can handle the spice, Shin noodles are hands down the best in my humble opinion. If you want something without the spice, Sapporo Ichiban is definitely a good pick.

Hope that answers your question. Happy eatin'

[writernopal]

no one really asked for this personal milestone update but i actually kind of enjoy cooking now??? i never used to like because i wasnt very good at it (im still pretty green tbh) but ive made some really tasty things lately, most of which tastes like something i could get at a restaurant! and then when i go out im actually starting to be like 'yeah my version is better' or 'i wish i had just eaten at home' or 'i wanna eat my leftovers!' anyway its a real gamechanger for me and huge confidence boost. not to mention it feels like i've made it because i can feed myself yummy food! and it feels like i really care about myself because i spend the time making something nutritious and delicious! anyways here are some pics of stuff i've made recently because im really proud and i want to share 💙 (note, a few of these meals were made in group cooking sessions with my sisters and Mr. Nopal! but most are my doing!)

Row 1: Beef wrapped enoki mushrooms w/white rice and blanched bok choy. Tamagoyaki w/white rice, furikake and blanched bok choy. Korean bibimbap.

Row 2: Japanese beef gyudon w/white rice and blanched bok choy. Edamame rice pilaf and fried egg. Shoyu chicken w/white rice and roasted broccoli and brussel sprout mix.

Row 3: Homemade chipotle carnitas bowl. Lemon chicken acini di pepe w/roasted broccoli. Herb chicken thighs, oven-baked crunchy potatoes w/roasted broccoli.

Row 4: Dry rub mala spiced ribs, tomahawk steak, hot dogs, and grilled asparagus and broccolini. Herb crusted chicken thigh, spicy italian sausage, bone marrow risotto, and roasted brussel sprouts. Pasta with homemade bone broth marinara sauce and herb crusted chicken thighs.

Row 5: Spam fried rice. Homemade applesauce puff pastry brie cups.

[shatteredgoddessdoll]

Feast

A doll sits with chopsticks in its hand.  It is excited, it has never done this before!  Its witch sits next to it, sad, but smiling.

Its close friend, another of its witch’s dolls, had decided it wanted to leave this world.  This had been talked about for years between its witch and the other dolls and everyone knew this day would come.  Witch and dolls channeled love into the final act of setting it free from the pain of this world.  Its final wish - to be dissected and eaten by its witch and the other dolls.

It looks at the other doll’s body, laid out before it on a table.  In many ways, it is even more beautiful this way - gears it had heard about, but never seen.  The internals of metal joints which allowed free movements.  Its full titanium alloy frame cut into bite sized pieces.  Thin enough to be incredibly lightweight yet sturdy enough to allow it to freely fly around without risk of damage.  Propeller blades made of… you don’t know what.  Those should be interesting to try.

It is time.  It holds its witch’s hand and pours a small amount of shoyu into a sauce dish and stirs in some wasabi.  It reaches down and picks up a small gear with its chopsticks, briefly dipping it into shoyu before bringing it up to its mouth.  The flavor is delightful!  Rich, slightly spicy, contrasting with the smooth cold metal of the gear.  

It chooses a piece of titanium hull for its next bite.  A much sharper, slightly tangy taste.  It was expecting much smoother metal, the other doll always appeared smooth.  Its witch looks at it and it understands.  Its witch combined her magic with the doll’s to repair bits of damage to its hull.  All the slight dents invisible under the magic.  In its mouth, it can feel each of these imperfections, proof its friend has lived and interacted with this world.

It spots a few small pieces of ceramic.  Leftovers from the doll’s initial design before it was replaced with metal, piece by piece.  It and its witch each grab a piece, dip it, and place it in its mouth.  Sweet, intensely flavorful, much like the salmon sashimi it has heard its witch describe.  As it chews, it can feel memories of playing with the doll’s younger self.  Chaotic, mischievous, full of life.  Days that calmer, older selves can never return to.

One final piece of its friend remains on the table - the core of its clockwork mechanism.  Its witch cuts it in half and slides one piece towards it.  Together, it picks up the final piece of clockwork with its witch and place it in its mouth.  With its first bite, a lifetime of memories flash before its eyes.  All of its friends memories, joy, sadness, love, shared with it and its witch in an instant.  Despite it being gone, it will continue to live on through it and its witch.  It squeezes its witch’s hand, rests its head on her chest, and cries tears of joy.

[kira-cooks]

At Home Miso Ramen

I learned this recipe from a cooking class I took in Okinawa, so some of the ingredients may not be readily available in the states. I will try to include pictures of the specific ingredients!

Notes and ingredient photos will be found at the end of this post with stars.

Ingredients:

150g minced/ground pork (roughly 1/3 (0.33) lb, but I'd say it's safe as long as you're around or under half a pound)

1.5 tsp grated ginger*

1.5 tsp grated garlic*

90g Miso paste without dashi stock** (roughly 1/2 cup)

1.5 tsp spicy chili bean sauce (doubanjiang)***

1.5 Tbsp cooking sake

1.5 Tbsp cane sugar (could probably use granulated)

1 Tbsp soy sauce/shoyu

1.5 Tbsp chicken broth mix****

1350ml water (~5.7 cups)

nama ramen noodles (thicker ramen noodles)

(optional) 1.5 Tbsp toasted sesame seeds

any ramen toppings you like (bean sprouts, soft boiled eggs, etc)

Recipe:

In a medium pot, heat about 2 teaspoons of any cooking oil. Over medium heat, add the minced pork, garlic, and ginger. Cook until no longer pink.

If cooking any vegetables to top your ramen, begin cooking in a separate pan. I just sweat down some mixed veggies in a pan with no oil or water on medium heat for a few minutes. The moisture in the veggies will come out and help cook them.

Once the pork is cooked, add the spicy bean paste and miso. Quickly mix and blend with meat until homogenous.

Next, add the sugar, soy sauce, sake, chicken stock, and water. Bring pot to a simmer.

Once simmering, taste soup and adjust at this time to any preferences. For example, if you'd like your soup spicier, add more doubanjiang paste.

If taste is good, cover with lid and begin to cook the noodles. Ramen noodles only need to be cooked for a few minutes in boiling water, drained, and then served in ramen immediately!

*I recommend just buying grated ginger and garlic. I minced garlic at home and it was annoying to get the floating pieces in my soup, but if you don't mind, then you can mince both the ginger and garlic at home instead.

**My teacher at this class emphasized miso paste made WITHOUT dashi/fish stock in it. In Japan, the miso paste will have this kanji with it: 無添�� "mutenka", which means no additives. I honesty don't know what the difference is as far as making the ramen at home, but I wasn't willing to gamble LOL.

***Doubanjiang: spicy chili bean paste --> I will attach a picture of it at the bottom! I used the Lee Kum Kee version in my ramen. Can be found on Amazon!

****Finally, the chicken stock! My teacher told me it was just chicken stock akin to chicken bouillon, but we used this specific one and I'm scared to deviate. You can buy it on Amazon if you search "Ajinomoto chicken powder".

[lynx-girl]

@coelii Here's the Spicy Miso Ramen I made!

Broth is Chicken broth with Miso, Gochujang, Sake and Shoyu, and sesame oil.

I've used peanut oil before, which I think I preferred.

The noodles are also different from my usual.

the Chashu is very fatty, best in small bites.

Ajitama are delicious as usual though!

All in all, pretty good.

[sanctobin]

Sukiyaki - Authentic Japanise beef dish

A great combination of beef and sweetened soy sauce flavor

Sukiyaki is a type of hot pot dish known for its sweet and salty flavor, seasoned with shoyu, sugar, and mirin. In addition to thin slices of beef, common ingredients for sukiyaki include naganegi (Japanese leek), shungiku green, shiitake, tofu, and shirataki noodles. In general, the meat for sukiyaki is sliced slightly thicker than that for shabu-shabu.

Kanto-style or Kansai-style?

Sukiyaki is prepared in different ways in Kanto region and Kansai region. Sukiyaki in Kanto style is based on gyunabe (beef pot), which became a huge hit among people in the Meiji period as the cultural civilization was nationally promoted. A soup base called warishita is prepared with shoyu, sugar, mirin, sake and such, and meat and vegetables and other ingredients are simmered together in the premixed base. On the other hand, sukiyaki in Kansai style does not use warishita and instead cook meat first, which is seasoned with sugar and soy sauce. Vegetables are then added to the pot, and after boiling down the liquid, sake and water are added. Today, it is common both in Kanto and in Kansai to use raw eggs as a dipping sauce to eat sukiyaki, although this custom originally came from Kansai.

History of sukiyaki

Cooked on a spade or in a cedar box?

Since Buddhism was introduced to Japan, eating meat had long been a prohibited behavior in the country. It was also unthinkable for people to eat meat of cattle, which was an important workforce. It is said that a word sukiyaki is a combination of suki (spade) and yaki (grill/cook), which refers to a dish of bird or fish being grilled on an iron part of the spade. According to another explanation, sukiyaki is said to have come from a word sugi (cedar)-yaki, which is another dish of seafood and vegetables stewed with miso paste in a cedar box. Although neither dish uses beef, they are thought to be the closest dishes from which the name of today's sukiyaki derived.

Civilization and meat-eating custom

As the country reopened to the world in the 19th century, meat-eating culture was introduced to people in Japan. Gyunabe (beef pot) was considered to represent the civilization movement back then and became very popular. It is said that the dish became even more popular after people learned that the Emperor Meiji tried and enjoyed beef meat. In 1877 (Meiji 10), as many as 488 gyunabe restaurants existed in Tokyo.

Other hot pot dishes:

Shabu-shabu

Very thin slices of beef are cooked by dipping them in a boiling dashi stock in a special pot and are served with dipping sauce along with other ingredients, such as vegetables, tofu, and kuzukiri noodles, which are cooked in the soup as well. Two types of dipping sauce are generally available at the restaurant, including gomadare (sesame sauce) and ponzu (citrus and shoyu-base sauce).

Oden

A variety of fish cakes, such as satsumaage, hanpen, yakichikuwa, and tsumire, are simmered with konnyaku, daikon radish, boiled eggs, and other ingredients in a dashi stock seasoned with shoyu.

Chanko-nabe

The word chanko originally has a general meaning that refers to meals for sumo wrestlers. To build the body, sumo wrestlers often eat hot pot dishes, which started being served at the restaurants and home. A variety of ingredients such as seasonal vegetables, seafood, and chicken are cooked together in a large pot and are served with ponzu or other dipping sauces.

Kani (crab)-nabe

This popular hot pot for winter features crab as a main ingredient, which is cooked in shoyu-seasoned dashi stock along with vegetables such as hakusai cabbage and negi onion. Snow crabs, king crabs, and horsehair crabs are among popular types of crabs that are available in Japan.

Chige (Jjigae)-nabe

Jjigae is a Korean word for nabe (pot). This Korean-inspired pot dish cooks kimchi and lots of vegetables together with meat, seafood, or tofu in a spicy dashi stock seasoned with gochujang and hot chili powder.

Yudofu

A block of tofu cut in bite-size pieces is placed on a konbu (kelp) laid on the bottom of the water-filled pot. The pot is heated until tofu is warmed, and the tofu is drained and served with dipping sauce. Other ingredients such as hakusai cabbage or slices of cod are sometimes cooked together.

Nabe is not complete without…

After most foods in the pot are eaten, it is a popular custom to make zosui by adding cooked rice to the pot and cooking it in a soup full of flavors with extracts from meat, seafood, and vegetables. Eggs and negi onions are often added to zosui. Instead of rice, udon and ramen noodles are used as well to complete the dish.

By Menu Tokyo

[angel-blood-art]

It's finally out!

From STARLIVHT to SUNRaiSE: Cooking All Night

A Fanmade NOISZ Recipe Book

Based on a fan idea for an imaginary collab café that evolved into something more, From STARLIVHT to SUNRaiSE: Cooking All Night represents the world of Anarch Entertainment's rhythm/bullet hell game series NOISZ through food and drink and the culture of Neo-Metro. The pizza Setsuna ordered in STARLIVHT's Chapter 3.I? We got that. Ice creams representing STARLIVHT? We got that. Arietta’s favourite food? The salad Sera ate in 2ECONDS to STARLIVHT: Forever My Diamond? We got those too! Plus so much more…

150+ pages with 12 drink recipes and 12 food recipes, such as:

Mango chocolate lassi

Spicy shoyu ramen

Butterfly pea tea

Chocolate cake with ganache layers

Thank you to the NOISZ Discord server for all your support in this endeavour!!

(Oh, and FYI - it features clickable links in places, so don't be afraid to explore with your mouse!)