#Sizzling Rice

[foodwithrecipes]

Masoor Dal Biryani is a very tasty Mughlai food, it is a complete meal in itself. It contains various minerals and fats. This equality is non-vegetarian, Read full recipe https://foodrecipesoffical.blogspot.com/2023/07/306-food-recipesmasoor-dal-biryani.html… http://foodrecipesoffical.blogspot.com

[fieriframes]

[Paella rice from scratch. Hit it. All right. Shallots. Shallots. Lot of bay leaf. Yep. Garlic.]

[peepthatbish]

Ya I know what, university adds a plethora of new experiences. Today it added the experience of cooking a burger in a tiny rice cooker

[sorrellegiance]

where would we be without crispy salmon skin

[somedancingdoodles]

Just finished Sonic Prime i have no coherent thoughts other than

[isostatic-uplift]

I talked to too many people this week and now I think my blood has been replaced with sizzling rice soup

[rabbitcruiser]

National Hot and Spicy Food Day

This day is dedicated to hot and spicy foods. Some hot foods include wasabi and horseradish, and some spicy foods are made with peppers that have a high capsaicin content. There is some information that suggests capsaicin is good for your health, and you can read about that here and here. Peppers with a higher capsaicin content are higher on the Scoville scale. Take a look at where different peppers and hot sauces are located on the scale.

How to Observe National Hot and Spicy Food Day

Hot and spicy foods should be consumed on this day. Common foods that are many times made spicy include chili, gumbo, chicken wings, and burritos. You can find some hot and spicy recipes here and here. Since this is a National holiday and an International Hot and Spicy food day takes place in January, you could try to eat spicy foods that originated from the country you are a citizen of or were born in. To celebrate the day you could also buy some hot peppers and have a contest with your friends to see who is best able to stomach them.

Source

[pandaimitator]

"Everything about this stranger aroused her interest, piqued her curiosity and stimulated her imagination."

-Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan at the Earth's core.

Woah there!! Settle down Burroughs. We get it. She be thirsty.

[henryelliot]

Vegetable Soup - Chinese Sizzling Rice Soup Fried uncooked rice adds a nutty crunch to this chicken and shrimp soup with bamboo shoots and water chestnuts.

[vegas-ventura]

Theres times where I haven't eaten subway in awhile and thinking to myself hey I should eat it again but then I remember they changed the ingredients on how they make a specific type of sauce I like and now it dosen't taste the same and I hate it

[sundaybreakfast]

Chinese Sizzling Rice Soup Fried uncooked rice adds a nutty crunch to this chicken and shrimp soup with bamboo shoots and water chestnuts.

[hauntedkittennerd]

Plant Milk Project Part 4: Pancakes

The first one was muffins. Also, this is the text-only version.

As the end (for now) of a series of experiments, the pancake test was a bit anticlimactic. The pancakes all tasted good and had only very minor differences between them. My family (see previous posts) was once again kind enough to offer their feedback but, this time, they had very little feedback to give. The most common response was "they taste like pancakes." My mom said, "seriously, they all taste good." So, if you are up for learning about very minor differences in pancakes, welcome!

These pancakes were made with Bisquick boxed pancake mix. Please check the ingredients on your boxes, packages, or in your recipes before trying this at home. Some mixes contain powdered milk, so be careful.

We didn't want to be overloaded with pancakes, so I cut the smallest suggested recipe in half. Each batch yielded four medium-sized pancakes, which I forgot to photograph.

Once again, the plant milks were soy, oat, almond, and cashew. To grease the pan, I used PAM baking spray. Ours is dairy-free, be sure to read your labels.

Batch A was Soy Milk. The pancakes looked and tasted like pancakes, though these were just a bit chewy.

Mom guessed almond milk, Dad guessed oat, Sis correctly guessed soy.

Batch B was Oat Milk. These ones had a slightly better texture than batch A. They were slightly less chewy.

Mom guessed soy milk, Dad and Sis both guessed almond milk.

Batch C was Almond Milk. These pancakes were a bit fluffier than the previous two, and Sis noted a slight nutty smell. The change in smell did not significantly impact the taste. They tasted like pancakes.

Mom, Dad, and Sis all thought these had cashew milk in them.

Batch D was Cashew Milk. These ones were slightly thinner and less fluffy than batch C. As you might expect, the flavor was very pancake-like.

Mom and Sis both guessed oat milk. Dad guessed soy.

For the first time during this experiment, all four tasters agreed on a ranking. Cashew was voted the best, then almond, then oat, and then soy. Notably, this was the reverse of the order in which they were tasted. I believe this speaks to the similarity of the pancakes, since the best pancake was the one each person could remember the best.

Thank you for coming along on this journey! Please leave any comments, questions, experiences, or other feedback in the comments.

[beingjellybeans]

Enjoy delish Filipino hotplate your way at Butter Grill, The Landmark

Who would have thought that dining at a mall food court would give you such a superb dining experience? Sure, food courts have their own appeal due to a variety of reasons: the variety of cuisines offered at affordable prices, easy accessibility, fast service and liveliness and bustle of the crowd. However, the entrance of a brand new concept stall at The Landmark’s Supermart Foodcenter…

[ninibeingdelulu]

Years later ✧

Plot: It makes you and your husband so happy to see your daughter and Emi playing together.

The mouthwatering aromas of sizzling stir fry and rice wafted through the cozy kitchen where you busied yourself over those steaming pans. Every so often, peals of high-pitched giggles and rumblings filtered in from the rear patio - beckoning you to steal a glimpse beyond those wide glass panels.

Your heart swelled at the sight unfolding just outside.

There was Emi in all her towering, dragon-esque glory - currently stretched out across the manicured lawn with those massive clawed paws tucked beneath her chin. Giant saurian pupils blown wide while watching your five-year-old daughter scamper about with unrestrained glee, that tiny cherubic figure weaving between the kaiju's sinewy limbs in a game of cat and mouse.

Whenever that feisty little rapscallion dashed near enough, one of Emi's enormous talons would playfully swipe in her wake - always mindful of her miniature stature as mother and child erupted in breathless, rapturous laughter again.

Matching expressions of wonderstruck glee etched across both their beamings despite the stark juxtaposition in scale.

In that moment, the years simply melted away for you too. Transporting you right back to those surreal early days of first welcoming their strange yet irrevocable sisterly bond into the fold alongside Ken - both females linked through his patient, doting paternity in diametric yet equally vital ways.

A tender brush across your forearm caused you to startle back to the present, finding Ken's openly affectionate gaze trained in from the nearby breakfast nook.

Your husband watched that heartwarming scene unfurl with those chiseled features rendered utterly tranquil and unguarded - an idyllic vision of harmony you'd once yearned for him to experience.

"Just like real siblings playing together, don't you think?" Ken rumbled in that low timbre tinted with wonderment while you smoothed the backs of your fingers over his stubbled jawline.

He eagerly captured those roaming digits before you could retreat them - calloused lips ghosting reverently across each calloused knuckle while drinking you in with the same unshakable adoration.

"They are real siblings, sweetheart. Raised under the same steadfast love of their equally devoted parents..."

At his declaration, you released a tiny, breathy puff against Ken's forehead before leaning in to steal a lingering brush of your mouths - ignoring the stinging prick of joyous tears blurring your vision.

Because you recognized the profound truth embedded within those tender syllables.

This sprawling, unconventional household of yours was irrevocably bound together through far more than mere blood alone.

An unbreakable tether of insurmountable love and acceptance Ken nurtured so steadfastly and without exception - through you, through Emi, and now your spectacular daughter too.

Another rowdy outburst of giggles caused you to break that reverie, following the sound outside once more.

There was your baby perched precariously atop Emi's flank, little feet swinging merrily while the mighty kaiju craned her saurian neck around to gaze upon that cherished bundle with endless devotion too.

Just as her adoring 'father' continued watching with that soft, doting light dancing behind those cinnamon depths.

Basking in the resonant completion of his mismatched, boisterous brood playing together as one perfect unit without constraint...

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ see me through the morning glow | gojo satoru

wc: 1.0k summary: you and gojo have a slow morning.  contains: f!reader in mind, suggestive if you squint, food descriptions. a/n: unedited, i honestly dk what this is i just really needed to get this out of my system! this is how i cope with 236.

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

You slip out of bed faced with the promise of sunlight. 

The curtains in your bedroom radiate a glow that bounces off the man lying next to you; it’s soft, near-white, almost ethereal, the color of his skin, hair, and bones. His back is exposed, arm reaching out over the (now) empty space beside him—the crinkles and folds where you once were. 

You’ve always thought your bedroom had good lighting, and now you can confirm why: in the shadows, deepening the line that runs down his spine; in the highlights, guiding your eyes to the pockets of muscle behind his shoulders. 

You look away, trying your best not to stare; the only reason he’s undressed is because of a cold sweat, from the nightmares—and the very need for skin-to-skin, to ground him in your touch. 

On mornings like this, you let Gojo sleep in. 

(Because you’re lucky if he can fall back asleep again). 

It’s slow today—no work, no missions that need you or him. It’s your favorite kind of day, and Gojo’s too (once he wakes up and smells the waffles you’ve prepared, double topped with whipped cream and maple syrup—his special, of course). 

A steady stream of warmth flows through the window to your kitchen countertop, the marble glimmering as light hits. The material was his choice; you don’t care much for glamor but Gojo likes pretty things—you especially, he likes to say. 

The batter is quick to prepare, a recipe you’ve done many times before, so you ladle it into the waffle maker before letting it set on its own. Then, you grab a pan to heat up, spooning in last night’s leftover rice, some soy sauce, and mirin, adding salt to taste, as needed. A standard fried rice breakfast, with a yolk to mix in later. 

The sound of his footsteps are concealed by the sizzles of the pan in front of you, but you’re caught off guard by arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nestling itself into your shoulder as he nuzzles you. 

He’s still shirtless, you notice, so you inch backwards in case of any oil spatter. 

“Good sleep?” you mumble, certain that he heard you. 

He hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “Not anymore when you left.” 

This man—a giant baby, puffed cheeks with long limbs hunched over you. 

Your big baby. 

Despite his whines, he’s telling the truth, you know, and you feel warm because of it, affection seeping in the cracks between his arms and the kitchen stove. 

You blow on a spoonful of rice before lifting it up to his lips. Gojo’s breakfasts are always sweet, but every time you cook, he looks forward to this: waiting right behind you to be fed over your shoulder.

His review will always be the same, of course, everything you touch turns out good. 

He reaches for the waffle maker with one hand while the other keeps you close, and you plate his little breakfast for him, whipped cream with little hearts drawn in maple syrup. 

You grab a bowl for your rice and sit by the counter, Gojo sitting thigh-to-thigh beside you despite the abundance of space around you. 

You realize then, that Gojo tends to hover. 

Not necessarily in a bad way, just that, he does it all the time—always wanting to be near.  

And for someone so perceiving, practically all-seeing, he doesn’t really have to for him to know what you’re up to, but with every opportunity he has, he never misses a moment to be close to you.

When you wash the dishes by the sink, he stays beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, even when the sink is wide enough to accommodate him a few inches farther. 

Even the walk to the bathroom has him tailing you, following your footsteps as he traces the footprints of slow mornings with you. 

Your bathroom counter has two sinks, but of course, today, he chooses to stay by yours. 

“Skincare?” you raise a tub of face mask. 

He doesn’t need it, but you love pampering him, so he nods, whatever you want. 

You struggle for a bit (he’s just too tall), so he picks you up by the waist and rests you on the bathroom counter, against the mirror.

He stays in the space between your legs, hands flat against your thighs. His thumb kneads your skin gently, and any other time, this position would end very differently, but there’s a look he’s giving you—all words without speaking. 

And—

“Quit staring,” you mumble, turning shy. You’re about to rub the product onto his cheeks, under his eyes. 

“What, I can’t look at you?” he moves closer, keeping his eyes locked on you as he rubs circles on your thighs. 

“No, you can, but,” you swallow, “you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” his brows furrow. 

“Like that.” you sigh, gesturing to his face. 

“Like I love you?” 

And it is like that. Like he loves you. That’s why he says it so casually. 

Because he does. 

You stay quiet, stunned, before you clear your throat and finish up the final area on his face. 

“Yeah.” you mumble, reaching over to wash your hands on the sink. 

Gojo waits for you to finish before he takes a small towel to dry your hands with it. 

“As if you don’t know.” he scoffs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. 

He’s right—it’s been said before, but there’s something else in his eyes right now, shiny and devoted, as if this is all he could ever want. As if you, on this slow morning, in this too-big bathroom is all he could ever need. 

But he doesn’t say anything. At least, not what he really means. 

“Not my fault you’re so pretty today,” he adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It should be funny, that he’s telling you all this with a mask slathered all over his face, but his compliments always speak to the depths of you, even when you don’t expect them to. 

His fingers mold against your cheek, to your ears, down to the back of your head, bringing you closer until he kisses you softly, a gentle peck. 

Bits of the face mask transfer to your nose and you giggle, wiping it off. 

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” you joke.

Gojo smiles, that look on his face, “Good for you then, you’re the only one I see.”

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

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