#This time I had a green bell pepper; white mushrooms; a few green onions; and a few tiny tomatoes. ...And a little butter.

[asjjohnson]

I accidentally made chicken broth?

Last week I cooked some mixed vegetables, and then, after removing the vegetables from the pan, fried some shredded chicken breast. And there was 1/4 cup of juice from the vegetables as well as about that much from the chicken, which I decided, 'eh, why not,' and saved in separate containers. I used the vegetable juice in place of water with some pasta, and then poured the chicken juice into the emptied vegetable juice container.

I figured the chicken juice would just be water with a vague chicken aftertaste, so I wasn't sure about even keeping it. But I was considering using it mixed with a chicken bouillon cube later. In the refrigerator, the chicken juice separated, with fine chicken particles on the bottom and clear liquid (and a little bit of butter) on top.

Tonight I spooned out the clear liquid and heated it, and it actually tasted good. I still added it to a cup of chicken bouillon (it was only about a fourth of a cup on its own), but it ended up surprisingly flavorful. (And it was also nice mixed with the cup of bouillon.)

I need to save that type of thing more often.

[gthiah-if]

Already 1 month since the release :^)

Just pretend I posted this on the 16th and not 3 days later Ignore me as I have a mental breakdown over how quickly time passes and enjoy some quick pov drabbles I wrote to celebrate the occasion ~

Spicy green bell peppers and mushroom

You remove the note from hot pizza box, it reads “make it spicy enough to kill a fire giant” and you smirk to yourself. You did say that when you made the order, knowing the person on the other end of the phone had to write it down tickles you. Not particularly hopeful this will be spicy enough for you, it never is, you open it and set it on the table in front of you. There’s no one else sitting by you, there never is, you look around.

The arcade’s busy enough as usual, you’re tucked at a table in the back, next to the cabinet they haven’t fixed. Spending hours beating your own high scores is fun enough, your name’s the only one on the top 5 leaderboards. Lost in thoughts, you chew on your not-spicy-enough vegetarian pizza : what’s missing ? Why does something feel off? Of course, it’s the same as usual.

You’re surrounded by people, all here for the same reasons but so few of them are alone – but you always are. They come in groups, friends egging each others on trying to beat their high scores. There’s laughter and cheers amidst the virtual sound effects and the sound of buttons being pressed and then there’s you.

Your silence, your loneliness : you’re the best - of course you are -, you like being alone – of course you do -, you never bother with people – why would you ? You don’t need anyone. Why can’t you share it with someone? Stop making excuses, there are people all around enjoying the same thing as you, you could be laughing along instead of eating alone. Your eyes sting beneath your yellow tinted glasses. The pizza’s spicier than you thought – sure, that’s what it is.

Shrimp & pineapple

Most of your baseball teammates are sitting around the bench area next to the field. Coach said we should celebrate today’s victory since we’d “shown this idiot Greg” that we were a better team than his. You don’t know why there’s so much tension between the two coaches but it’s always funny to watch Coach go on rants.

Pizza boxes are passed around, there’s one for you too – it’s easy to know which one it is when you hear half your teammates groan and laugh. You never understood why people made such a big deal of your toppings of choice, seafood and fruits were a good combo and it reminded you of your Dad. Ah… There it is. It never takes long these days to reminisce on the past.

You smile good-naturedly as number 5 jokes about how your taste in food must give you the skills that make you the best player in the team. No one pays you in any mind as they keep laughing and eating. You always wonder what your place is. You’re the ace of the team but are you their friend ? You’re Coach’s pride and joy but would he care the same if you weren’t as good ? Would they still talk to you if you didn’t play baseball at all or is that all you’re good for? Would you be a “good for nothing, just like your father” if you stopped doing what everyone else wants you to do? There’s never any room for you, not just because of your towering height, you can never exist. It’s never enough, it’s never right – “why are you wearing that?”, “what else can you do anyways?”, “stick to what you already know, you don’t need to be different, you just need to be the best”. But you don’t want that…

It doesn’t matter, you do what you have to do not what you want to do. But Dad was happier doing what he wanted… You’d better not end up like him. You look up. The late-afternoon’s sky is clear, you see a plane passing by, leaving a white trail behind it – you smile. Maybe one day you’ll find your own place, even if you have to leave your mark on an untainted expanse – so you can exist as who you want to be.

Ground beef and extra extra onions

Another all-nighter. Despite how ahead you try to be on the program and the homework, you always find yourself spending entire nights on your essays. Is it your fault you want to make sure you know as much as you can ? Is it your fault you keep restarting from another angle because none of your previous 5 drafts were satisfying enough?

You’d gone downstairs to pick up the pizza some ten minutes ago but you’d yet to have opened it, too frustrated with yourself to eat. You blankly look at the lava lamp on your desk; if she were here, she’d have eaten half the pizza by now. You snort despite yourself – why are you thinking about her now? No. You always think about her, every day, every morning when you open your eyes and you want to scream “why her?”. You could have saved her, she could still be here, YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE MORE.

A small knock on the door, so soft you wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for how quiet the room is. There’s only one person it could be : his curly mop of hair pokes out the door, his head is barely at the same level as the handle. Despite how bitter the words in your throat are, you always smile for him. You can’t fail him like you did her, you pick up the box and lower it so he can pick up a slice. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” “I was hungry” You almost laugh out loud, of course he’s hungry, tonight’s dinner was green beans and fish – everything he hates. Not like you didn’t know he would be hungry and would come into your room – that’s why you ordered the pizza in the first place, not for yourself.

The guilt and disgust cling to your insides so hard you couldn’t eat even if you wanted to. She’d have loved to have a brother. You have to do better. For him and for her. What good are you if you can’t protect anyone? If you sink so far down you can’t pull yourself backup? No one else will do what you can do, no one else can do what you’ll accomplish – no more failures, you couldn’t bear it.

Goat cheese & honey

This is the first time you order a pizza. You think it might have been obvious enough to the person behind the counter considering the confused look they gave you as you yourself were confused as to how this kind of interaction works.

You sigh and bury your head in your fluffy scarf. Sat at the back of the pizza parlour, you didn’t want to look at the worker again, too embarrassed and ashamed after that fumbling and stuttering display. You would have never stepped foot in a public place if you could have avoided it but you were starving and you’d had to get out of the way off the sidewalk after a man told you he was “walkin’ here!”. In your panic to not be yelled at, you’d barged into the maroon parlour with black and white tiles and felt too mortified to walk back out. Luckily the sweet smell in front of you helped distract you somewhat and you carefully picked a slice.

The warm honey felt comforting and nostalgic. Nagyi would always make you warm milk with honey when you were young, when you were too scared to tell her about the person in the woods or the pretty teacup you’d broken. You missed her, you were so far from home now.

But even home felt wrong.

Or maybe you’re the problem. That sounds like you, always the problem, why are you even here, what’s wrong with you? Not again. You look to the window to block out your thoughts, it feels like everyone passing by is staring at you – what do they see? What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be like everyone else? Why are you always scared? The same face from the woods looks at you from the alleyway.

Pepperoni

It's late at night, so late it might as well be morning. You're aimlessly wandering around the streets with a couple of other people from the skatepark. Board in one hand and pizza in the other, you're not really there. You hear them laugh, you can't focus on what they're saying.

But you know they won't notice or if they do, they'll think it's just you being your nonchalant self - when really, the stuff going on in your head is anything but. You can usually block it all out - the worries, the anxiety, the doubts - but sometimes, it gets to you. One of the few times you wish you weren't straight edge, one of the few times you wish you could get fucked up and forget.

But then you'd end up like your mother, wouldn't you? You sound enough like her when you get mad, you don't need to drinking problem to add to it.

The greasiness in your mouth feels sickening and the pit in your stomach threatens to swallow you whole. You hate feeling like this. Unsatisfied, like something is missing and you have too many options to choose from to know exactly which one of your fuck ups is aggravating you the most. They laugh again, it's so irritating - shut up shut up shut up.

Take a deep breath, don't say it out loud.

You stop and they keep walking. You need to do something, something to make the feeling go away, something stupid to forget. You drop your board to the floor and skate down the way you came from, you leave your pizza box to a homeless man sitting nearby - he'll enjoy it more than you right now. About to do something reckless, the kind that always gets you in trouble, the kind that makes people think "oh, I don't think you should talk to that person".

Time to add another fuck up to the list, you'll hate yourself for it later - you always do.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 6/?: Roots

It's pouring rain by the time Sasuke awakens, a tempestuous sort of hush awash a village swathed in grey. He's gotten a very good night's sleep, only waking once around five to groggily hearken as the pitter patter of droplets began against the asphalt and metal of the roof. He'd watched the beads of liquid slowly connect to others, forming small rivulets pulled downwards by gravity on the glass of his bedroom window, before he made the decision to try to fall back asleep. To his bewilderment, it had actually worked; a rare occurrence, as it usually doesn't. No dreams, no nightmares, just blissful emptiness, like he was allowed for once to drink in the moisture of rest like a tonic, exuding into his being much like the precipitation trickling into the soil outside.

It's nine thirty when he rolls out of bed, reluctant to leave the warm requiescence of his comforter, but also wanting to give himself plenty of time to get ready. He'd like to shower before he heads over to Sakura’s, and he also wants to eat something light for breakfast first. He decides on ochazuke, because it’s relatively easy to prepare and he thinks he would like more tea; two birds with one stone. There are sesame seeds in his cupboard that he could sprinkle over the dish, at the end. He sets a portion of brown rice to boil before brewing a cup of the caffeinated green sencha to eventually seep over it.

It smells really good as it permeates into the hot water, earthiness propelling upwards and sinking into his nostrils. He'll have to thank her again today, now that he knows what her gift actually contained.

While he lets things stew, Sasuke considers the kitchen table, where he left the remainder of the gifts yesterday. Now is as good a time as any to find a place for each of them, he supposes. He makes quick work of washing the paring board before setting it aside to dry. The cough drops find a home in his bathroom's mostly empty storage behind the mirror; he takes the two lozenges left from the hospital and puts them there, too, to use before he opens any of the new packages.

He decides that the photo should go on the bedside table, next to the clock. He can always move it, if he changes his mind. It catches his eye for longer than is strictly necessary.

Eventually he returns to the kitchen, removing the strainer from the tea and stirring the pot of rice twice as he waits for it to finish cooking. The barrage has lessened since daybreak, not overly loud, but enough to create an ambient sort of background noise that is a nice change of pace; less of a storm and more of a quenched thirst for the earth, emptying from rooftops down the gutters and into the ground. Sakura’s building is older, too; it probably will sound much the same at her apartment.

He savors the ochazuke once it’s finished, a simple but enjoyable way to start the day, caffeine threading its way into his system gradually. Washing the dishes is his next task, followed by an extremely lengthy shower, temperature near thermogenic. The bruises from his two spars with Naruto are still sore, but not terrible; the heat feels good on the marred skin. Water drifts across more bruising that has bled into existence overnight on his shins, before it sinks between his toes and vanishes down the drain. He’s not sure why he watches it; it just seems compelling today for some reason, everything pulling downward.

When he’s dry, he throws on a comfortable pair of black pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. He doesn’t want to read more of his book since he has a little less than half left of the one on kenjutsu, so he decides to complete some meal prep instead, testing out the paring board by chopping and slicing various produce; mushrooms, bell peppers, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes, green onions, and burdock roots are slowly removed from his fridge, cleaved into neat pieces, and then returned to their respective assortment of bags and containers. The small bits of metal attached to the board allow for cutting goods with ease, a bit ingenious. It works extremely well, much more efficient than the hassle of summoning a clone to simply stand there holding each item still. It’s not that he doesn’t have the chakra to spare, but it feels more dignified this way.

After enough time has passed, Sasuke pulls on a pair of grey socks, sandals, and his cloak before he leaves, library book concealed and protected by the black garment.

It’s marginally chilly outside, but not terribly cold like it would have been earlier in the morning. Petrichor overwhelms him, an aroma he is well acquainted with. He is reminded of the scent of the foliage the handful of times he passed through the Land of Rain, and also of drizzly days spent as a child here in Konoha. Every bit of vegetation he glimpses on the way to Sakura’s apartment complex is drinking up the liquid greedily, drop after drop of nourishment with which they will sustain themselves and use to grow.

The puddles are starting to join in their crevices, small streams of gentle cascades forming. It captures his attention like the shower drain did earlier, and it feels nostalgic for some reason, like there is some forgotten secret that the land beneath is whispering through the medium of interconnected pools, rippling outward until they touch more solid soil.

His hair is a bit damp when he arrives at her building just prior to eleven. Illumination flows from beneath doorways of variegated colors; everyone else is inside today, too. The tonality is similar to the harmony overheard at his own apartment, as he expected; he finds it comforting.

He knows he’s a little early, so Sasuke takes his time going up the stairs. Once he reaches the sage green of her threshold, he raps twice and waits, studying Sakura’s plants in their terracotta pots. There are a few amongst them that he doesn’t recognize, which is curious, given that he’s wandered so many places and has grown familiar with a vast diversity of flora. There is lucky bamboo pushed towards the back of the array, in the area that gets the least amount of light. A spider plant is to its left, and a golden pothos, along with a snake plant, are sandwiched to its right, towards the corner. A lilac moth orchid blooms near her door, a paler variety than he has seen anywhere else. Coral kalanchoe spill out the side of a taller planter, next to pink and pistachio mums, faded yellow butterfly ranunculus, and a small vessel filled with white daffodils, sunny insides flourishing outwards. There are succulents, too, tricolor lavender scallops sprinkled throughout several of the ceramic containers, along with a strain he doesn’t recognize.

Yarrow and jewelweed emerge from smaller pots on the edge of the spread, which makes him wonder if the few plants he’s unfamiliar with are being grown for useful purposes rather than decorative. Perhaps she keeps them for her work crafting antidotes; he knows that the roots of plants can often carry medicinal benefits. One of them is quite odd looking, now that he is peering down at it closely; dark plum-colored stems spread upwards with circular leaf-like shapes at the crown, trains of spiky white flowers budding from them. Another one he can’t identify has a tiny whitish yellow flower, dwarfed by the huge wrinkled leaves that surround it.

They appear as if they have been tended already, the loam damp as it is outside with no opportunity for warmth to dry them as of yet, though this verdure is more tame, less wild. She must water them in the morning. All of them are so different, yet they are all alike, too, stringy germinations and rhizomes expanding to suffuse through their similar planters.

Her door clicks open, and he shifts. Sakura smiles up at him, sunshine on a rainy day accented by a dimple, wearing an extremely comfortable-looking outfit: an oversized cream crewneck that slips off one of her shoulders a little, and a juniper pair of jogging pants that he thinks would be too long for her if not for the gathering at the ankles.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she greets, eyes he loves radiant on his. "It's almost ready; come in."

He responds, “Morning,” and follows her inside, placing his library book on the console table momentarily, where her lamp is already switched on. As he shrugs off his cloak and toes off his sandals, she drifts back to the kitchen, something likely needing her attention there. He notices as she goes that there is an extremely fuzzy pair of beige socks on her feet.

As he hangs his cloak, he realizes that her apartment smells like roasted tomatoes and toasting bread, overpowering any vague notes of her tea cabinet in a way that makes his mouth water.

Sasuke reaches for his book from the console table and goes further into her living space, where the rest of her lamps are also turned on already; no hard lighting. He assumes they'll read on her couch, so he sets the text on the end table, closest to the side where he’d sat the previous night. There are two blankets thrown over the sofa now that weren't there yesterday, one appearing plush that is a color somewhere between mauve and lavender, and the other one a knit heather grey. It’s probable that they came from her bedroom; perhaps the walls are some variant of violet, a color he would not have expected.

As he turns, intending to join Sakura in the kitchen, his eye catches on a familiar photo, and he stops. Perched on one of the few empty areas of one of her bookshelves is their original Team Seven portrait, in a pale wood frame, near white. It's different in finish from the other frames adorning her walls near the kitchen, much lighter in color.

He is struck by it for multiple reasons; it wasn’t there yesterday, meaning it probably has also come from her bedroom, and it is very close in finish to the wood of the uchiwa fan he gave her as a birthday gift. He hasn’t seen it; Sasuke knows most women keep ornamental fans like that in storage for safekeeping. He vaguely recalls his own mother used to keep hers, though less ornate and made of paper rather than silk, in boxes, stored securely for future use at festivals and such in her closet. She’d shown them to him, once, and he’d seen her carrying them on special occasions, from time to time.

Sasuke studies the picture and the wood grain for a long moment, gaze softening. He wonders if she moved it out here to make him feel more at home.

He breaks his contemplation by making his way to her kitchen finally, where Sakura is flipping a grilled cheese sandwich over in a pan, one of two. A slow cooker lies atop the counter, lid condensed with moisture, with plates, bowls, and spoons laid out next to it.

It smells really good.

Green eyes fall on him, bright and filled with exuberance. "These are on their last minute, I think, so if you wanted to, you could dish up the soup while I finish them. There’s a ladle in there.” She gestures towards the drawer beneath the counter where the slow cooker rests. “It's tomato miso; I hope you like it. It should be done by now.”

His stomach suddenly feels tied in knots in the best sort of way. A gilding of warmth spreads throughout his entire being, veins and arteries and capillaries slowly immersed in something numinous.

“...I’m sure I’ll like it,” he murmurs, reveling in the blush that inks its way onto her cheeks, all the way back on her cheekbones to surround the freckle he’d touched yesterday. She looks away shyly, grinning like he has given her some grand compliment. The corners of his own mouth twist upwards.

Sasuke pulls the ladle from the aforementioned drawer, where it sits amongst other utensils, setting it in one of the bowls already placed on the counter. When he removes the lid, his olfactory senses instantly flood with a wave of savory miso; by the aroma, she must have used red, middle range, a perfect foil for the acidity of tomatoes. When he grabs the ladle again, he stirs it a few times; quartered shiitake mushrooms, kombu, scallions, and tomato chunks - he thinks they are of the plum variety - circle the pot, filling it near to the brim just below the surface. Sakura has made a considerable amount of it, much more than is needed for a single meal for two.

He shifts the plates closer to the slow cooker, bowls set atop them, before ladling soup in, careful not to spill and making sure to get an even mixture of produce with which to fill the broth in each. He rinses the ladle clean, and she mentions that there are small plates in the cupboard to his upper left, to rest the ladle on; he grabs one as she moves to open a different cupboard behind him.

Sasuke returns the lid to its place to trap in the slow cooker’s heat, rotating the dial from hot, past low and into the warming setting. When he turns back to Sakura, she’s shutting the stove off and moving the pan to a cool burner. Both of the sandwiches are resting on a cutting board, sliced diagonally.

The sandwiches smell really good, too. She veers the halves onto the empty space of the plates using the knife, before leaving it, along with the paring board, in the sink.

They each grab a plate and spoon before heading to her dining table, in front of the northern window. The dangling market lamp is already turned on, and fat droplets are slipping down the glass.

It’s a calming lunch they share, a steady lulling of inclement background noise alternating between bites of sandwich and spoonfuls of soup as they watch the street below. The avocado is good in grilled cheese; it’s something he would have never thought to add. Sakura dips hers into her soup, so he tries it, too, and finds he likes it even better that way. The soup on its own is something else, though; filling and savory, near perfectly spiced. She’s a good cook.

“It’s good. Thank you,” he compliments halfway through as she chews and swallows a bite.

She beams at him. “You’re welcome.” She studies him before adding, “There’s enough for leftovers, if you’d like any more.”

He nods and takes another mouthful, looking out the glass thoughtfully. The residential buildings across the way are also lit up, soft light blurred through the fractals of raindrops.

“Do you think Naruto’s doing his homework on a day like today?” Sakura asks eventually.

“Tch.” He turns his gaze to her. “I doubt he’s even awake yet.”

Her grin is mischievous. “You’re probably right. It's his weekend. No Hinata around to wake him up? Definitely still asleep.” She sighs exaggeratedly. “Kakashi-sensei will be so disappointed. Though it’s better than copying someone else’s, I guess.”

“...Did he used to copy yours?” He’s more amused by that prospect than he should be, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

Sakura furrows fine pink brows as if she knows that he knows the answer, too, but she’s still smiling. “He used to ask if he could. I was too good of a student to let him.”

“...Figures.” A ghost of a smile overtakes him, a cleansing sort of sentimental fondness for bygone days during which their third squad member was at his most annoying.

“I think Shikamaru used to let him. It was too much effort to say no that many times.”

Sasuke exhales through his nose, a rendition of a laugh as she takes another bite of her sandwich, dipping it first in the soup and looking amused. Nara would.

He also takes another bite, and mulls over his next words.

Swallowing beforehand, he inquires, “...What’s in Suna?”

Sakura blinks in surprise, analytical eyes quickly working out that he’s referring to her comment yesterday at Ichiraku’s. She turns to the window, smirking and chewing her food as if considering something of great importance. The dimple sinks in and out as her mouth moves; he averts his eyes back to his plate before he gets caught staring.

When she swallows, she’s quiet for a long moment, then says ambiguously, “I’m not sure I should say anything. Insider knowledge.”

Interesting. Sasuke is sure she has the same friendly camaraderie with Nara that she has with everyone else, but he assumes the insider knowledge must have actually come from Ino; she is the type to know everyone’s business, given how much she apparently shares her own with Sakura, and she is Shikamaru’s teammate, though they're both Jonin now.

“...No hints?” He presses, pinning her with a stare. Now he’s more curious; it must be something good, if it’s a secret of this magnitude.

She bites her lip, still grinning, then bites into her sandwich, watching precipitation race down the glass.

“One,” she finally acquiesces, as if it’s a monumental conspiracy. He raises an eyebrow in anticipation.

“It’s in Suna sometimes. Other times, not.”

He narrows his eyes and suppresses an urge to twitch, because that could really be anything, given their line of work, but based on her bemused expression, he’s not going to get more than that. He settles for studying her until she looks elsewhere, a shy giggle escaping her throat as if this is very funny.

“Sorry. Not mine to tell.” She raises another spoonful of soup to her lips.

“...But Kakashi knows?”

She swallows. “Oh, yes. He might have known before anyone else caught on.”

“Naruto?”

Sakura appears to be deliberating. “...Mmm, he’s more observant than when we were kids, so he might. I kind of doubt it though. They’re pretty good friends now, but…”

Sasuke hadn’t known that. He waits for her to finish her thought, staring at her pointedly. Her gaze flicks back up to his after a second.

She shrugs, then. “He’s a good strategist. I kind of think he’ll hold a higher-up position, once Naruto becomes Hokage, if Kakashi-sensei doesn’t promote him before that. He’d be an asset as an adviser.”

Shikamaru became the chief coordinator of the Shinobi Union, after the war. That type of advancement would make a lot of sense. He would be well-suited to assist the Hokage even now, moreso in a few years. It speaks to Naruto’s increase in awareness, Sasuke thinks, that he would be planning ahead to compensate for areas he is less strong in by appointing sensible counsel. A clan head is an astute choice, especially one who has put in efforts to make peace.

It’s odd, to think of the roles everyone in their generation has come or will come to fill, the more he considers it. Distinctively different plants with roots distending into analogous vessels, like the terracotta ones on Sakura’s doorstep.

“Nara’s a good choice for that,” Sasuke finally says, realizing he should respond.

Sakura inclines her head before lifting her bowl to her mouth to drink the last of her broth. She’s finished her sandwich now. He’s about finished with his, too.

This is nice, he thinks as she smiles at him before glancing outside again. “It’s really coming down now, huh?”

It’s the type of question that doesn’t really need an answer, but he nods anyway, because it is. Meager ponds are collecting in the street, rills tracing pathways over the awnings of the building across the thoroughfare. Pitter patters on the roof have grown in intensity to rival those of the early morning. It reminds him almost of the summer monsoons Konoha tends to get, though this clearly isn't one, still being in the throes of spring. Moisture is good for roots, he supposes.

He sips the last of the broth from his bowl, and she looks back to him. “Would you like another bowl? Or maybe some tea? I can brew some while I do the dishes.”

Sasuke considers the offer. It was a pretty filling meal, the soup piquant and packed with produce as it was. “...Tea would be good. I can help.”

Sakura seems like she’s going to protest, so he adds, “Thank you for the sencha… and the rest. I didn’t have loose leaf yet; I like it.”

She flushes, smiling at him softly. “You’re welcome.”

A silence filled by drizzle passes in which they regard each other, and then she’s standing to collect her plates, so he follows her example and grabs his own before trailing behind her to the kitchen.

It’s early enough still that they can have caffeinated tea, so she cycles through the loose leaf options she has as the sink fills with suds; matcha, chai, ginger peach, white monkey, and rose bouquet white. “The white monkey isn’t as sweet as it usually is; I think I got a unique batch. It’s more woody and peppery than anything; I’ve been mixing it with matcha.” There are the pre-packaged versions, too, but she doesn’t read them off, since they have more specifically sweet flavors, like caramel vanilla, banana dessert, and strawberry shortcake.

He picks white monkey at her recommendation of it not being too cloying, and she grabs one of the banana dessert pre-packaged tea bags for herself. Sakura makes short work of setting the water in the kettle to boil before procuring two teacups and siphoning some of the white monkey blend into a small strainer she pulls from another drawer.

Once she’s done that, she unplugs the slow cooker and reaches for something from a lower cupboard - two hand towels - to put on the counter; he assumes one is to utilize as a dish mat and the other is to actually dry with.

“If you really want to, you can dry… But you’re a guest, so you don’t have to,” she murmurs, expression affectionate in a way that makes his neck warm.

So Sasuke helps. She washes and rinses - her dish soap is lemon-scented - and strategically sets each piece atop the first towel he’s laid out. He dries one side of the plates and bowls, then flips them over one-handed to dry the other, stacking them on the clean expanse of counter to his right. It doesn’t take very long with them working together. When she goes to empty the sink, she gives it a scrub and a rinse with the soapy sponge she’s been using, efficient as always, before rinsing any remnant suds from her own hands.

“I can show you where everything goes,” Sakura says, so Sasuke helps her put things away, too, mentally cataloging what’s in each cupboard for future reference. Her storage system is well thought out, organized in a way that makes the most sense for the layout of the space.

When she reaches upwards to put the cutting board back in its place, the sleeve of her top slips further to one side, gravity pulling the fabric downwards on her slender frame and exposing some of the skin of her upper back. There is a dusting of tiny freckles just above the interior portion of her left shoulder blade that he hadn’t known was there. The way they are scattered reminds him of serpens caput, missing only one of the constellation’s general equivalent of stars. He forces his stare away, ears reddening, when she turns to remove the pot from the slow cooker.

“Thank you for helping.” Sakura adds coconut creamer and sugar to her own cup of tea, stirring. “Would you like lemon with this one?”

Sasuke thinks, still a little distracted by dainty freckles, before shaking his head. If it’s woody and peppery, he’ll probably like it fine on its own. She pushes his teacup towards him on the counter with a look that tells him to test it, so he does, and finds he was right; it’s herbaceous, with a scant amount of woodiness and pepper lurking underneath. Maybe the tiniest hint of sweetness, but barely.

“It’s good,” he tells her quietly, before taking another sip.

Apparently the grey blanket is reserved for him; she takes the lavender once they head to the living room, curling up on one end of the couch with it, tea and her book on the table. Based on her bookmark, she’s about halfway through hers. Sasuke does the same on the other end, mirroring her pose, back propped towards the side of the couch with feet extending to the middle rather than going off the front. He keeps his knees slightly bent so he doesn’t invade her space too much, though he doesn’t think she would mind.

He steals one last glance at her before opening his own book to get lost in the different ways to wield a blade. The rain on Sakura’s roof is ataractic, accented by the pleasant smell of tea, the sensation of a full belly, and a warm blanket that smells like her, though it’s more raspberry this time than any lingering antiseptic.

It’s nearly three by the time he finishes his book, mind swimming with descriptions of sword forms. Sasuke peeks at her and sees she’s almost done, too, so he rereads the more engrossing passages, the ones that were particularly well fleshed-out. He’s so relaxed that he thinks he could fall asleep despite the caffeine, if he closed his eyes for more than a few minutes; focusing on rereading should help him stay awake.

Sakura closes her book after a bit; he looks upward at the sound, meeting green.

“How was your book?” She asks, lips twisting upwards; she must have noticed he finished his, despite still reading her own.

"...Good."

“Learn anything?”

“...A bit.”

Her smile widens as if she is amused; maybe he should elaborate, but he’s not sure if practical applications of swordsmanship are something she’s interested in.

Evidently they are, because she questions, “Care to share?”

Sasuke begins explaining the concept of iaido, derived from iaijutsu, the samurai skill of drawing one’s sword and cutting in the same movement, rather than cutting from an assumed stance after already drawing the weapon. It’s a simple idea, one he’s experimented with in the past, but there had been illustrations on a few of the pages showing different forms, and two of them he has never attempted. The pictures helped; he thinks to himself when he visits the library again, he’ll seek out one containing more visual aides.

He expounds upon the chapter on dual swordsmanship, too, primarily utilizing one sword to attack and another to defend; the defensive stances detailed are some he would like to try, specifically tailored as they are to be used with one arm. Some of them he’s already used intuitively, but one of the forms captured his attention, involving a slight variant sweeping of the blade to repel an attacker that would situate them at a more advantageous angle. It could be useful, if he ever needs to draw an enemy into a trap.

“Interesting,” Sakura remarks, and it seems genuine. Maybe it is interesting, in the case of someone who has, at least to his knowledge, never used a sword. He would like to ask her about medical ninjutsu sometime. “So it was a good read?”

He inclines his head to indicate yes. “...And yours?”

Sakura grimaces. “It… wasn’t terrible, I suppose. I didn’t really like the author’s writing style. Ino and I differ in that regard. She reads things more for the story itself than the way it’s told, so sometimes this happens.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow so she’ll clarify. She shifts slightly, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. “It was too… straightforward. Limited and repetitive vocabulary, not a lot of dialogue structural variation, though it’s well-researched; I’ll give it that. It takes place during the second Shinobi War. A civilian woman’s husband going off to battle, they have to evacuate the area, the costs of conflict, that sort of thing. The ending was sad…” Her voice trails off, punctuated by the plunk of deluge, then she adds, “I guess it makes sense that the protagonist would think in limited language given the rudimentary basic education structure of everything back then, but it’s not very… poetic. It was like the author felt nothing as they wrote it, a kind of detachment from the whole thing.”

He suppresses an urge to smirk, reminiscing on her letters and extensive vocabulary. “...You like poetry.” It’s just an observation, but it’s something he hadn’t known about her, prior to now. Very Sakura.

Color floods across her cheekbones, and she looks at him with an expression that is very tender, as if there’s something else she would like to say. He could stare for hours, entranced by her as he is. “...I do.”

Sasuke wonders, then, if any of the books on her bookshelves are poetry books. He hasn’t read the titles carefully. It occurs to him that she might have more books in her bedroom, now that he’s thinking about it. When he was younger, he used to keep many of his own in his room, too, sorted by genre.

“Did you finish your other book already?” Sakura asks him, then, expression inquisitive.

He nods, eyeing her as he contemplates what he would like to say. He decides not to phrase it as a question this time; he wants her to offer, so he knows he's not requesting too much. Give her an out. She trains with Ino in the morning on Mondays and has lunch with her after, but she hasn’t said anything about her plans for the afternoon.

There’s still something in him that’s nervous, tightening as he speaks, careful to specify time. “...I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon to get some new ones.”

Her smile unfurls slowly; Sakura really can read him well. “...I was, too.”

His chest rushes with warmth, anxiety released in a single relieved breath; it's not too much, then. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and that seems to encourage her, because she adds, “Ino and I are usually done with lunch by around one. It’s supposed to be nice out, I think. We could…” Her voice trails off, as if she’s considering. “...We could meet at the library around one thirty, and then maybe… take books to a quieter area to read, after. If you want. I... think I know a spot that should be fairly dry by then.”

“...I can meet you here,” Sasuke offers in a low voice, a confession he's more comfortable with now. The way she glows in response as she agrees is captivating.

Sakura invites him to play go with her, after. He agrees, because he wants to, and also because he doesn’t want to leave just yet. They set up the board on her dining table, a gridded battlefield of sorts beneath the market light.

She absolutely demolishes him in the first round, carefully surveying the board before each play of her white stones with careful calculation and syllogism. It’s to be expected, because she has always been smarter than him, but also because he hasn’t played in years and is woefully out of practice, ill-prepared to deal with this sort of onslaught. The second round is closer, but he still loses. It’s a challenge, as he knew it would be; Sasuke finds her moves to be quite roundabout, more about the long haul tactics of trapping than any short and quick route to victory. There are times where he realizes he unknowingly played right into a ruse more than five turns previous.

It’s four thirty by the end of the second match. Sakura’s attention flashes to the clock once as she puts away the board; he helps, sorting his own black pieces into their respective container. He will have to head out soon, though he’s not looking forward to it. He is quite comfortable here, with her.

“It’s still coming down out there,” she muses as she rises to store the box, peering through the glass before turning to make her way to the bookshelf she’d retrieved the set from earlier.

“...It is.” He gazes out the window, distracted by the puddles and their ripples below them in the street. It feels almost as if something is tugging on him to focus on them, suggesting something orphic, beyond simple rainwater.

The soft clicking of teacups and small plates being collected from her coffee table resounds behind him, so he turns to her, thinking he could offer to help wash them.

“I made enough soup for leftovers, so if you want to take some home, you can.” Sakura says, before the words make it out of his mouth. Outwardly he remains blank-faced, but something in him sighs. He’s not really sure what he's going to do with the rest of the day. Sparring with Naruto would be unwise on a day like today; he’d probably catch a cold. He could go by a store and buy a book to read, he supposes.

Being back in Konoha is odd like that. He used to just… walk, if he didn’t have anything to do on his journey, or read her letters, but now that he has had the opportunity to spend time with her, he selfishly just wants more of it. Time spent alone seems dimmer in comparison.

He would like to take some soup back to his apartment, though. It was kind of her to offer; he should probably say something.

She looks contemplative when he looks to her, though, carefully clutching porcelain, and thank you lingers in his throat, unspoken.

“Or… If you would like to stay for dinner, and do something after... you could.”

The faintest of stings begins behind his retinas, something long in the tooth stirring, aged roots buried so deeply he had perhaps forgotten they ever existed in the first place. He thinks it is the feeling of being wanted, of having a place in someone’s home.

He hopes she’s offering because she genuinely wants him to stay. She has a mountain of responsibilities, he knows, although it is her day off.

“...You’re sure?”

Pink brows furrow as if she’s confused how he could ask such a thing; she shuffles her weight slightly from one foot to the other. “Of course.”

An interlude passes in which the torrent measures time, the beat of a ballad that is very old. Her next words are hushed, pianissimo lyrics that he’s sure she has no idea just how much he has yearned for; she’s biting her lip and peeking at him from beneath pink lashes as she says them.

“I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.”

The daunting prospect of a lonely evening evaporates completely. His tongue feels tied up in his mouth, but he nods, hoping she can read in his eyes his gratitude; he’s fairly certain that if he spoke, it would come out hoarse, not at all suitable as a response to the song she has just offered to him.

Sasuke thinks that she can see it just fine, because she gives him a breathtaking smile that could sustain him for a long time, a drop of honey added to an overflowing teacup in which he sips the surplus, with a tinge of an aftertaste that isn’t too sweet for his liking.

The dishes are tackled together. After they finish, she reheats tomato miso soup and cooks two more sandwiches for supper. Another meal is shared at her dining table, overcast skies overlapping into evening, the lights from the windows of Konoha glowing more and more as time passes. It’s just as good the second time, flavorful and filling.

They watch a geology-focused documentary on her television about lava, earthquakes, and landslides. Sakura questions him afterwards about the little time he was in the Land of Volcanoes, south of the Land of Mountains. He hadn’t stuck around for any extended time due to the extreme heat, but what time he did spend there is seared into his memory due to the intensity of it. He had come rather close to one of the region’s volcanoes, within sight of a smoking center mere miles away with lava tendrils trickling outwards, in the process of cooling but still alarmingly hot.

It makes him feel more appreciative for the rain here today, recalling it. Here in Konoha, he could touch the streamlets if he wanted to; he doesn’t need to keep a distance.

They follow up the documentary with a movie after; this time he tells Sakura to pick one. It’s unique, including some fantasy elements, about a struggle between the gods of a forest and the humans living on its edge that consume its resources. The protagonist is cursed by an animal attack, and seeks out a cure from one of the deities. While traveling, he sees other areas in which humans are ravaging the earth and warring with the gods of nature, a thought-provoking contrast considering they’ve just viewed a program detailing the inner mechanisms and wrath of volcanic eruptions, much like gods of nature in their own rights. The conclusion is open-ended; though the hero tries to broker a peace between humanity and the spirits, there is no feeling of resolution or success, no guarantee that one side will mediate with the other. It isn’t quite what he expected it to be, but he notes that the characters were quite realistic, allowing for the viewer to identify with them and better experience what they must be feeling secondhand; it was not told in a detached sort of way as she’d said the book from earlier had been.

Sakura makes earl grey tea, after, and they visit for the better part of another hour, quiet voices awash in auriferous lighting, relaxed by bergamot malt and lemon slices. She inquires about his travels, which places overall were his favorite in the four other great nations. The way she looks at him as he answers makes his heart thump, as if she is hanging on his every word.

It’s near eleven at night by the time he rises for the entryway. The kiss they share before he leaves feels like the drizzle of the rainwater outside, mellow collections grown slowly but surely deeper from time spent together, inexplicably telluric like submerging into soil.

He steps in a few unavoidable collected pools of moisture on his way back to his own apartment, drenching his socks. It makes him feel strangely nostalgic again for some reason, a reminder of a place’s capacity for change, to absorb something and thrive again.

Sasuke has seen many parts of the world now, absorbed as much as he can through his brother’s eyes, and has just relived his favorites by describing them to Sakura. She didn’t ask him about his favorite place in the Land of Fire, though.

It may easily become Sakura’s apartment.

XXX

When he sinks into slumber, he is pulled further downwards into a memory from a very long time ago, something quondam that has since dissolved.

The recollection is hazy in the ways that dreams are, slightly murky as if he is viewing it through a puddle tinged with the loam of Konoha, but perhaps there is something about Sharingan vision even unactivated that embeds the visual acuity into one’s optic nerves, to live there in perpetuity for eventual retrospect. It is one of his earliest memories, he thinks; he would have been maybe four, meaning Itachi had to have been nine or ten, though there is no one he can ask to confirm.

There had been a summer monsoon, perhaps the first one he was old enough to remember, water temperate enough to exult in without catching cold. Their mother warned them not to be outside too long in the storm, and occupied the covered porch, observing them to make sure they heeded her will. There had been no precipitation for a while prior - he thinks there may have been a drought - so the moisture was welcome. Plashets collected in their sprawling yard, causing Mikoto Uchiha’s prized white lilies to appear as if they were emerging from small lakes. She had expressed concern that they may drown upon Sasuke’s examination of them, framing the boundary of their home, but he, in that naive viridity that small children have before the world beats it out of them, thought they were strong enough to persevere.

“I’m sure you’re right, Sasuke,” his brother had said supportively, before showing him a path that allowed a step in every puddle on their family’s grounds. They had raced to the far end of their property and back; he had clumsily fallen at the end of the first pass, getting soaked, as if he wasn’t already from the warm rain coating both of them from the ashen sky above. Mud stuck between his toes, squelching and cushioning his fall while simultaneously making him filthy. It had sloughed off so easily back then in the deluge, corroding all at once and bleeding into the mess of their yard to immediate murky liquidity.

Itachi helped him up by his left hand, getting covered in his muck before the water rinsed their digits clean, and then he was being challenged to a second sprint. Sasuke emerged victorious this time, though now, looking back with eyes that are not his own, he realizes his brother obviously let him win, trained Shinobi that he was by that point. Coming to terms with that is horrifying, because he can see now that his brother was still just a child, wisdom beyond his years be damned. Sasuke is sure Itachi would have to have killed people on missions by then, completely at odds with the soft-spoken and gentle countenance he portrayed at home.

Eventually there was enough drizzle that miniature rivers of connected pools formed, capillaries of nourishment interlacing everything. Sasuke had been fascinated by the changing landscape, until Itachi had ambled up to the porch to speak with their mother. Disappointment swept into him like a tide; he had thought that his brother didn’t want to play with him anymore. But then their mother had risen and gone indoors, and Itachi motioned for him to join him at the edge, beneath the awning.

She came back carrying a small pile of paper, which confused him. He’d watched, enthralled, as Itachi folded one of the pieces into something reminiscent of a boat, simple yet perfect.

“If you put them by the gutter, the force will push them sailing across the yard,” his brother had said; he remembers the inflection so clearly, strange because it is from a time when Itachi was young enough to have the voice of a child, so unlike the rich timbre he’d held later in life.

He had trailed after his brother to the gutter, and sure enough, the paper boat was propelled by the rain streaming down from the roof; it took off as soon as Itachi let go. Sasuke had stomped after it with approximately zero grace, mud coating him up to his ankles, until it reached the boundary fence, saturated through and less buoyant due to the barrage of droplets dampening it from above.

The absolute joy he felt, when he had sprinted back to tug on his brother’s sleeve to ask if he would show him how to make one, and he’d agreed. They’d returned to the pile of paper guarded from the elements by their mother, and Itachi showed him each step, creating another one alongside him as an example. His small hands were not very coordinated back then; his boat hadn’t turned out as nice, all wrinkled sloppiness instead of crisp, clean folds.

“You just need more practice,” Itachi had murmured. “My first one was messy, too. I’ll help you.”

Larger hands had closed around his, creating skillful creases and shaping with dexterity. The second boat turned out much better. Sasuke had given his first one to his mother, then, so she could race, too. Remembering the smile, the genuine look of motherly gratitude she’d given him, bruises something in his soul, precipitation on frail roots entombed deep; it reminds him of the struggle of swallowing a gulp of water after traipsing through the desert, dry mouth making it almost painful, a gargantuan effort that takes everything in him not to look away.

She’d followed them from the porch over to the corner eaves, staying under the cover to avoid getting drenched, and the three of them had released their creations. Sasuke thinks they had to have given him a small headstart, surrendering theirs just after his, so his boat would make it to the other end of the yard first. He’d run after it, Itachi meandering along behind him at a slower pace, while their mother stayed beneath the awning.

His brother had smiled at him as he jumped puddle to puddle in glee. They’d grabbed the now-soaked paper boats at the conclusion of their path, and brought them up to the porch to set in a pile. Then they constructed and raced more, a veritable treasure of a late morning. For his last of the day, Sasuke had tried folding one on his own again, and it turned out better than his first attempt. Though a little lopsided, it hadn’t capsized, sailing strong in the current unaided just like Itachi’s.

Their mother had made them shower and then drawn them a hot bath after, to ensure they were clean and warmed. She had parted his toes to get the mud stuck there out, soil spiraling and dissolving down the drain as he watched. He’d splashed Itachi in the bath after, and folded one more boat with a piece of paper his mother brought him, so he could see how much time it took for it to sink without getting flooded from above, an experiment in buoyancy.

She made miso soup with rice for a late lunch, with something from their aunt and uncle’s shop as a treat after, some variety of warmed pastry. Itachi had let him try his in addition to his own; Sasuke’s had been strawberry, but Itachi’s tasted of peach, gooey sweetness to top off a perfect day that wasn’t even over yet. Their mother must have made herself some tea, too; he remembers the aroma of jasmine filling the space, warmed by lamplight cast on dark wood. When she’d told Sasuke it was time for a nap, he’d become extremely sullen, because he didn’t want to sleep; he’d wanted to spend more time with his brother. It wasn’t often he was home for a full day, prodigy that he was by then and always on missions.

Itachi had surprised him. “I’ll take a nap, too. It's important to rest sometimes. You can join me, Sasuke.” His refusal morphed instantaneously to greedy acceptance. Sasuke crawled into bed with his brother in his room, huddled in the comforter for warmth as the deluge continued for hours, the dousing on their roof and peaceful breathing composing a conciliating symphony with which to lull him to sleep. Eventually he'd succumbed, tuckered out and content, though he'd tried to stay awake as long as he could so he didn't miss out on time with Itachi.

Ten year olds don't usually take naps. His brother may have feigned sleep just to get him to do as their mother wanted. That realization is trenchant, too, sharp like a blade, because it’s a cycle that would repeat itself until Itachi’s end, Sasuke never understanding until the moment had passed, always a step behind and looking backward instead of forward.

When he’d awakened later in the evening, he’d smelled food cooking, miyabi soup and some kind of grilled fish. Itachi hadn’t been beside him anymore, but after blinking groggily, his brother had appeared like an apparition in the door frame.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Sasuke.”

Drizzle is still pummeling his apartment building when he rouses in a dark bedroom, alone. No one appears in the door frame this time as he blinks unsteadily, throat choked before the silent tears come, because this memory aches, haunting his heart like some kind of drowned spectre, dripping muddy stains onto clean floors. Sasuke moves to wipe them away with his left hand, the one Itachi used to help him up from the mire, until he remembers that he doesn’t have a left hand anymore. Making a paper boat now would take twice as long.

Everything in him hurts, marcid marrow writhing in his bones as if they are dead roots that have gotten a drink after a decade spent in drought, someone trying to nurse something deceased or rotting back to life. He goes to the memorial stone under the tenebrose cover of two in the morning, but it doesn’t feel like his brother is there. All he has of him are the eyes drowning in his sockets and excruciating retrospection, intermixing with the rain soaking him outwardly.

I miss you, he thinks as he tries not to asphyxiate on the memory, hoping that his mother at least hears his thoughts here, echoed in the ponds collecting around the stone that bears her name. He has to leave eventually, because he starts picturing white lilies emerging from miniature lakes, full of life and swaying with wind and torrent, instead of cold and motionless grey granite, and he thinks he is going to start sobbing.

Sasuke returns to his apartment after the better part of an hour and stares out his living room window, nursing a miniscule cup of sencha tea, weak so as not to unsettle him too much. The weather lets up eventually, turning from a drench to a drip between the fine branches of the cherry blossom tree across the street. The puddles slowly begin to sink in, though there are remnants of dirt collected in the grooves of the pathways due to the overflow. The tree is starting to lose its petals; they float atop the collected areas of water, a hint of hope buoyant atop sorrow like a paper boat.

He isn't at all hungry, but Sakura said he should try to gain weight, so he forces down a very early breakfast of plain rice, tasteless, before he goes to rifle through the box in the closet. He averts his eyes as he lifts the lid, fumbling to turn the photo upside down without looking at it and moving it to the bottom of the container before sifting through Sakura’s letters.

He picks a favorite of his, one she wrote to him while he was passing through the Land of Savanna, the first autumn season of his journey.

Sasuke-kun,

I was so happy to see your hawk on the horizon today. I gave him some water since he had a long journey.

The way you described the grasslands changing color in Savanna was lovely. The trees are changing here, too, shedding all of their leaves and making the roads a sea of color. Naruto slipped on a scarlet one the other day coming out of Ichiraku’s. He almost dragged Hinata with him, but thankfully no one was hurt. That's providence, I suppose, though it's not a red thread.

Soon it will be the season for chestnut-flavored everything. Stout squirrels come next, and Tsukimi will be happening, too. I've only ever seen it here in Konoha and once in Sand, while we were on a mission. You'll have to tell me if the moon looks any different where you are. Don't forget to make a wish.

The air is turning crisp here, like the leaves, so I imagine it will be there, too. Please stay warm.

I miss you.

-Sakura

Sasuke comes to the realization then that he’s sitting in damp clothes, and that he is kind of cold; he hadn't thought to grab his cloak earlier, too overcome with mourning. He carefully puts the letter back, and makes the decision to take a hot shower. The heat makes him feel incrementally better, thawing him from the inside out. It also makes him realize his mouth feels dry; he’s probably dehydrated, and needs to drink more than a weakly brewed half glass of tea. He prepares another cup, stronger this time.

A mission summons arrives around nine. He uses the mirror of his bathroom to make sure he doesn't look too disheveled - the shower helped, he thinks, though he’s slightly pallid - before heading to the Hokage’s office.

He's the first one of those requested to arrive, though not by much. Naruto is sitting in his designated chair with the scroll again, looking for all intents and purposes like he just woke up.

"Teme?! Eh, really?!" The dobe turns in his chair to glare metaphorical daggers at Kakashi, who pointedly ignores him. "You're seriously not sending me with?! Bogus."

Kakashi simply inclines his head towards him, not even sparing Naruto a glance. "Sasuke. Good morning. Ready for a mission?"

He nods mutely, wondering what it could be. Naruto whines some more, but Sasuke tunes him out. There's nothing like his teammate’s complaining that grinds on him in the morning, though he’ll inwardly admit it is helping to coax him back into some sense of normalcy.

His replacement walks through the Hokage’s door next, impassive as always. He inclines his head politely at Sasuke, so he returns the gesture. Naruto heaves a sigh. "Oh, come on!"

Sai doesn't miss a beat, turning to Kakashi, absolutely devoid of any kind of emotion as he delivers Sasuke’s favorite invective. "Is Dickless not coming?"

Sasuke barely manages to suppress a snort as Naruto guffaws, launching an entire container of pens at Sai. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Not all of Sai's nicknames are poorly chosen. He loathes the one he has for Sakura, but Sasuke doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing Naruto’s. It improves his mood measurably.

Shikamaru Nara saunters through the doors last, looking extremely apathetic already. Shrewd eyes flick to Sasuke’s momentarily, too quickly for him to read anything from them, then to Sai’s, then to the pens Naruto is picking off the floor, before settling on Kakashi.

Interesting. So it’s the escort mission, after all.

Naruto is outright mad now, glowering but past the point of saying anything as he returns to his seat in silence. It seems he at least knows when to give up, these days.

"Now that I have you all here, I'm afraid I must break the news that this won't be a terribly exciting mission. Simple escort to Sand for our diplomat tomorrow. It may be a bit… overkill, but there will only be three of you on the return trip, and my newest batch of missions didn't have anything terribly exciting in it. It's better to complete something useful with enough time to get back in case we need you for bigger tickets next week; it can't be helped." Kakashi shrugs, before adding, "Sending Sai should shorten the trip and make it less taxing, at least, flying birds and all. Shikamaru will lead, like usual."

Kakashi goes on to disclose that they'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow. Apparently it's only a four day round trip with his replacement's jutsu involved; this means they’ll leave on Tuesday morning and be back on Friday evening, should nothing go awry. It’s not likely that it will; Suna and Konoha are strong allies at this point.

“Any questions?” Kakashi asks at the end of the briefing. Neither Shikamaru nor Sai say anything; he doesn’t, either. An escort is simple enough, especially one of a fellow Shinobi.

His old sensei smiles in a way Sasuke feels is directed mostly at Shikamaru. “Alright, then. Dismissed.”

Nara strolls lackadaisically out of the office as Sai follows. Sasuke gets the inkling that this will be a rather silent journey, between the three of them. He’s a bit thankful he hasn’t been assigned a mission with more talkative comrades, at least not for his first one back.

“Teme!” Naruto pipes up as he turns to leave as well, so Sasuke lingers. “Wanna spar this evening?”

His brows knit together while Kakashi looks between them, as if amused. Sakura has not invited him over for the evening, but he thinks of soft words yesterday anyway.

I missed you, when you were gone. You… can fill as much of my free time as you’d like.

“The day before a mission? You’re stupid. Pass.” Sasuke says, both because he’s hoping to spend the twilight hours with her, too, but also because he knows it will annoy the hell out of Naruto. They really shouldn't go all out the night before one of them leaves for a mission anyways; if one of them breaks something, Sakura will be stuck fixing it, and it’s supposed to be her day off.

Naruto looks miffed, a lone blond brow twitching, so he adds, “...Saturday, early morning. If you’re even awake. Dobe. ”

Before he turns away from Naruto’s spluttering, he catches an all too knowing gleam in Kakashi’s visible eye. Sasuke is suddenly sure that their old sensei is well-acquainted with Sakura’s work schedule. He can feel the hole being burned into the back of his head by blue eyes and a single dark one as he leaves the Hokage’s office, the dobe still struggling to come up with a response to his quick refusal.

He feels marginally better as he walks leisurely back to his apartment, noting along the way that more of the puddles are already beginning to dry up.

Sasuke fixes something more substantial for lunch, since he knows Sakura will eat with Ino; a chicken curry, fragrant with garlic and ginger and carrots, poured atop rice. He doesn’t have any potatoes, so he substitutes with other produce, a unique mix for curry; bell peppers, green onions, and burdock roots. It’s not bad, but maybe he’ll pick up some potatoes when he gets back from Sand.

He is looking forward to going on a mission again, he realizes as he eats. It’s probably going to be a rather routine one - it’s not likely that they’ll face any enemies in friendly territory - but it will be good to be amongst allies again, contributing to fulfilling a purpose, however slight. Sasuke thinks maybe he should make more of an effort to interact with Sai. It appears as though he and Sakura are close, if he’s been to her apartment; Ino was there, too, he supposes, but still.

Sasuke spends the remainder of his time doing the dishes and making sure everything in his fridge is wrapped well, to ensure it doesn’t spoil in the time that he’s gone.

XXX

Sakura’s hair is damp, pink more saturated than it normally is, when he meets her on her doorstep; she must have showered. The scent of mixed berries is renewed, and suddenly he is certain that it has to be some kind of soap, perhaps a body wash. She has her single fiction book in hand.

“Hi,” she says, grinning up at him with a disarming beauty that makes his heart skip. Her hair clings to her neck when she locks her door behind her; Sasuke focuses on a ranunculus bloom instead, noticing that there are two small cuttings of the flowers missing, taken from its rear portion, until she turns back around.

“...Hi.”

“How was your morning?” She questions kindly as they make their way down the stairs and out the glass door, spring sunshine filtering in.

He blinks once as he considers how to answer. “...Fine. I had a mission briefing.”

Sakura’s lips quirk upwards. “Anything exciting?”

He exhales through his nose, a shadow of a laugh. “No. Just an escort.”

Jade eyes twinkle. “Ah, I’m guessing… Sai and Shikamaru.”

“...Kakashi might listen to your squad suggestions more than Naruto’s.”

She chuckles a little. “No, it’s just that he usually sends them for that. You must have replaced Naruto; he’s the third squad cell member, most of the time. Sai’s jutsu makes it a quicker journey, especially with Temari’s fan techniques; she can create updrafts.”

Sasuke thinks he vaguely remembers a blonde woman who is Gaara’s sister; that must be the diplomat. The sibling of the Kazekage would be well-suited for such a job.

“...Maybe I’ll find out what’s in Sand.”

She smiles while biting her lip. She’s very pretty.

“Maybe,” she finally offers cryptically.

They weave through the road on their way to the library, taking care to avoid the water still lingering; it has sunken into the earth for the most part by now.

Sasuke checks out three books this time. One is another on historical samurai, this one with more illustrations as he’d wanted. The second is a historical account of the establishment of Nunogakure, in the Land of Silk. He had passed through the country twice, and had always been interested in learning more about its history, given the establishment of its hidden village by kunoichi and their record of hostility with the ruling daimyos. The third is a fiction book about an old man at sea, suggested to him by Ichika as she scans Sakura’s books, then his.

“It’s kind of proverbial, and not terribly lengthy. You seem like the type who would like it,” the librarian offers, so he adds it to his pile. It’s not quite an old lady giving him vaguely prophesying teacups, but it sounds interesting enough. He appreciates her kindness; not everyone in Konoha gives him this particular brand of easy acceptance after the debacle that was his past. Sasuke thinks perhaps showing up with Sakura helps. Ichika looks at his empty sleeve for a long moment this time; she must not have noticed the last time he was here, the unfilled end of it hidden by the counter.

Sakura says there’s a spot towards the slope of Hokage Rock that drains off the cliff, a hill that should be dry enough to sit on, so they meander upwards. It’s on the western side, just at the juncture where the grass begins to give way to harsher stone. A wild cherry blossom tree that he spotted from a half mile away is clinging to the precipice, a bit off the beaten path. It must have sturdy roots, he thinks, reaching deep into the dirt and bedrock to give it the strength to soar upwards even here on uneven ground.

As they near it, he observes that it’s losing its petals, too, late in blooming like the one across the street from his apartment; small green buds are starting to take the flowers’ place.

They read for a bit under its branches, sprawled out on the hillside. She was right; the ground is dry here, already soaked into the soil or run off the slope. It’s not too warm or cool out, an enjoyable spring day where everything is freshly watered. The book Ichika recommended is pretty good, full of oceanic metaphors, some of which he finds unnervingly relevant. Sakura might like it; it’s written somewhat artfully. He gets about a third of the way through its pages as the sun begins to hang lower in the sky.

It’s around four when he allows his focus to wander away from his book to her. He's been leaning up against the tree, in the only spot someone could; the rest of the area by the trunk is too asperous to sit comfortably, roots twisting ruggedly, but strong. Much stronger than white lilies, hardy enough to weather even the harshest storms. Sakura is on her back a few feet away, book open above her and pink hair settled in a halo on the grass. She looks extremely comfortable, as if lying like this in the small amount of shade offered is something she does all the time. Maybe this is a place she visits often.

Her book is titled Hazel Wood; he can tell by the cover it must be fiction, but he's not sure what exactly it's about. He's thinking maybe he’ll ask her later. He's also thinking maybe he should ask if she wants to do something after this; he would like to, if she's free.

She shifts slightly, and he slides his eyes to the skyline so he doesn't get caught staring, very suddenly becoming conscious of the fact that he’s been admiring her for the better part of a few minutes. When he looks back over warily, she is picking up a stray petal and situating it between the pages, sticking out like a bookmark to mark her place. Then she regards him, smiling like she's amused.

He arches a brow, unsure what could be funny, but she's setting her closed book neatly aside and pushing afoot to close the distance between them. He tilts his head up towards her as she walks to the tree trunk, and then she's reaching out. Two fingertips skim his scalp, and then she's handing him a cherry blossom petal that evidently had been caught there.

"A bookmark, if you want one," she offers, her expression saying she is incredibly entertained.

He blinks once before taking it, lone hand brushing hers for a millisecond. He's distracted by how soft her fingertips feel again.

"...Thank you." He puts the petal in his book to mark his spot as she straightens.

Now would be an opportune time to query her evening plans, but she beats him to it. "Would you want to stop by the market quick with me and then come over for dinner?" Comely green melts into charcoal when he looks up. "I was thinking of making teriyaki atsuage and cucumber salad, but I'm out of cucumber."

His agreement is immediate, insides twisting pleasantly.

As they head down the hill together to beat the evening rush, books in hand, a single crow passes overhead, swooping low towards the center of the village extending before them.

That’s providence, he thinks, though it’s not a red thread. He stares at it like he’s seen a ghost until it disappears.

He helps her cook this time. Sakura handles the cutting and chopping while Sasuke seasons and turns the tofu as it fries in one of her pans, mixing together mirin and soy sauce to create the teriyaki dressing while she slices cucumbers and tosses them with other ingredients; she loads the salad with peanuts, sauces, garlic, and red chile flakes.

It’s another gratifying evening together. They play three rounds of chess this time, and it’s just as challenging as go; she cycles through positions intuitively, sometimes with seemingly little thought involved. Sasuke thinks she might be analyzing her next moves in her head during his turns, having a few planned out and simply narrowing it down based on whether he moves a rook or a pawn. He comes close to winning the final match, at least. With more practice, he might win once in a while.

Sakura offers to make tea again, after. He accompanies her to the kitchen, and when she opens the cupboard, his throat closes, because two new jars of loose leaf sencha from the tea shop have mysteriously appeared, one for the caffeinated shelf and one for the decaffeinated shelf.

Sakura’s expression is tentative. “I thought maybe sencha this evening. I… picked some up on my way back from lunch, earlier today.”

He nods weakly, tongue-tied and endlessly grateful.

She makes some for the both of them, finishing off her own with sugar and honey. Sasuke watches her swirl the spoon in the now fading luster of her kitchen, thinking the way she takes her tea is like her very being, so sweet.

Verdant eyes peek up at him when she walks him to her entryway, hours later. He sincerely hopes that she’s enjoying spending time with him as much as he is with her.

Then, Sakura’s voice lilts up to him, a quiet murmur, "Will you… come see me, when you get back?"

He blinks, sugar and honey pouring into him now, because it’s almost an answer to the question in his head that he hadn’t vocalized. Then his brow furrows, because maybe he’s failed at conveying that he'll spend literally any amount of time with her that she allows him. Sasuke knows his communication skills aren’t the best, and he has never been in any sort of romantic relationship, so everything is new territory, stunted by his lack of practice.

Her gaze flits away from him. "Just… so I know you're okay."

Oh. She means coming to see her right after debriefing, so she'll know he's returned safe. Something pleasant pools in his belly, sinking to the extremities in a way that feels nurturing. He realizes he is taking too much time to respond; she looks nervous.

"I will."

Jade centers back on him, reassured now, and he's not sure how he's going to go four days without it, this limitless green that soothes him to no end.

"Oh. Good. Thank you." Her expression changes to one that is considerably more relaxed, a tender look directed upwards that he has never seen her wear for anyone else.

Sasuke presses his lips to hers for a long time before he departs, a soft goodbye he’s hoping will convey all the words that are caught in his throat, gratitude and affection that have been stewing there since they were thirteen.

He thinks he feels love press back from hers, a delicate flickering that makes him ache, and perhaps providence. Sugar and honey, too. Sweetness doesn’t hurt him like the recall of pastries does, when it’s experienced secondhand like this.

XXX

The mission goes smoothly. Sai's jutsu does speed things up considerably, and the Sand delegate, Temari, uses her giant fan to give them a boost in places that are lacking in higher gales. He rides with Sai on the way there, while Shikamaru and Temari drift on the other; Sasuke thinks the separation must be so she can use the jutsu, strategically getting behind his replacement's bird to give him a boost before Sai can control it and have theirs catch the subsequent updraft, too.

Sasuke and Shikamaru fulfill lookout roles, him scanning ahead and Shikamaru scanning behind. It is refreshing to see the land from above, giving way from forests to grasslands to the beginnings of desert edges. He finds himself thinking about what his hawk saw, all of the times he brought correspondence to and from Sakura. It’s not as hot this way, traveling through the air with breeze ripping around them, though they make an effort to stay hydrated, still.

Sai is quiet, but Sasuke is, too, so he can't knock him for it. He wonders, scanning the horizon for the upteenth time, if Sai knows what's in Sand that interests their squad leader. He would have to, dating Ino, but he doesn't feel comfortable asking him something like that.

They spend most of the first day in relative silence, only spying a single squad of comrade ninja from Suna traveling hundreds of feet below them, just leaving the desert. Towards the end of it, as they finally cross into the first area that is truly all sand as far as the eye can see, Sai surprises him by speaking.

"Beautiful says Ugly is stupid happy that you've returned. I am certain that Dickless is, too."

The effect the words have on him is a little jarring and complex. There is the immediate familiar disdain for Sai’s inaccurate nickname for Sakura, intermixed with immature amusement at Naruto's epithet. A feeling of brotherhood follows, and his heart blooming with something tender, vines twisting or perhaps not-so-dead roots getting another drink. Stupid happy doesn’t sound like a phrase common to Sai’s vernacular, leading him to believe it was Ino’s exact wording, likely after spending the morning with Sakura yesterday.

He thinks it over as they soar over the last bit of terrain for the day, sorting through the different emotions. His answer isn't hesitant; it just takes preparation for him to muster the gall to vocalize it to someone he's not terribly close to.

"...I am, too." It’s an understatement.

XXX

They arrive back in Konoha on Friday evening, as scheduled. No issues, just more lookout duty and enjoyable wind offering relief from the heat. Peacetime is nice; anyone they saw to or from Sand was an ally, no foes. They only utilize one of Sai’s creations on the return trip, Shikamaru still observing the rear but this time atop the same bird as them. It’s a slightly longer trip, without the diplomat to speed things up, but they still make good time.

It's a bit after six when they leave Kakashi’s office, mission report paperwork folded neatly into his satchel. Naruto wasn't there; Sasuke assumes he's either been sent on a mission or has gone home for the day already. He supposes he’ll find out tomorrow, if a banging erupts on his apartment door after sunrise. It must have stormed again recently; the soil is damp, and everything is faintly greener than it was before.

He finds he missed it, the smell just after it rains that was decidedly not present in Suna, even if it does bring hard memories.

“Good work,” Shikamaru says simply to both of them as they step outside, ready to go their respective ways. It’s not necessary for him to say it, but Sasuke appreciates the acknowledgement. He’s aware it is probably not easy to trust him, after everything. Not everyone has the same confidence in him as Team Seven does.

Sai nods towards Shikamaru, then turns to him.

"Tell Ugly I say hi." His tone sounds almost kind as he turns to part ways from them in the street. Shikamaru glances at Sasuke for an instant, expression not containing an ounce of surprise, but he doesn't say anything as he turns to head the other way.

Tentatively, Sasuke starts out in the direction of Sakura’s apartment. She should be home right now, if she didn’t stay late at the hospital. He wonders as he gets closer if maybe he should wait a bit; she might be in the middle of cooking, or eating dinner.

He wants to see her, though. He's missed her greatly, and she did say to come by; he tries very hard to swallow his doubts.

Soon he's knocking on a sage green door that is beginning to look familiar. The plants are still damp indoors, too; maybe it rained as recently as this morning. It has to have been overcast for a good portion of the day, for the sunlight through the diamond window to not have dried the moisture from her watering them just yet.

Sakura opens the door wearing a smile; it grows wider upon seeing it's him, like she can’t help it.

His heart skips a beat when she says his name. "Sasuke-kun."

"Sakura."

She steps aside while holding the door open, a silent invitation for him to come in, so he does. He stands in her entryway uncertainly for a second, until she offers, "I'm making tenmusu; there's enough for two. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Everything in him relaxes, any and all ambiguity dried by her kindness in an instant. "...I would. Thank you."

Little flecks of gold shimmer in the lamplight, facets atop something burgeoning with warmth. There is love there, in her eyes and upturned lips. He wonders if she can see it in his, if she has any idea of the true gravity of his feelings for her, all of the things that flare to life in his belly at the mere thought of time spent here.

It’s a break in routine, but there is something he would really like to do, something he has been working up the courage for over the past few days, so he takes the risk, pulse quickening; he hasn't kissed her anything but farewell yet, really, aside from their first, which was somewhere in the middle.

It is better than he imagined, vespertine devotion saying hello rather than goodbye. He skims the freckle on her cheek again as his lips brush hers, hand tender against her skin and silky pink locks. When she leans into his touch, he finds himself wishing there was a way for his soul to graze hers, to tell her the utterly selfish thing he wished for after her letter so many moons ago. Sakura’s soul would be warm to the touch, he thinks, like freshly-brewed tea or the flux of a summer monsoon, but much more illimitable, and endlessly ardent.

Her hands on his shoulders are becoming a familiar weight, grounding him like the roots of her namesake.

When they part, she blinks up at him once, and then suddenly her arms are wrapping around his center instead of his shoulders, pulling him close. His heart swells, and he hooks his lone arm around her waist.

She smells like home, he realizes. "...Tadaima," he murmurs against her hair.

"Okaeri," she responds, soft and sweet against his chest.

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 2

Finding Your Independence

SERIES MASTERLIST // PREVIOUS PART

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: the chapter title is ironic because this chapter is about how dependent these two are on each other. 

A scream startles you from accidental sleep. Deep, broken, and utterly terrified. 

It’s half-past six. Your room is bathed in gold. Fading sunlight and emerging city lights leak through the thin drapes over your windows. You set your chin onto an open textbook. 

Your eyes open narrowly. You need to listen carefully. You could have dreamt the scream.

A slow second passes, your eyes nearly shut, and then— 

Another scream. This time of your name. Your eyes snap back open.

You flip the pen you fell asleep holding, gripping it as a weapon while groggily— but with great haste, of course— climbing out of bed. 

Heartbeat in your ears, you sigh and kick away the thick purple blanket your feet are tangled in, throwing your door open to an empty living room. 

The front door is shut, your television hasn’t been ripped from the wall, everything is in its place. Even Bucky’s laptop sits undisturbed on the coffee table next to an almost totally flat bag of Doritos. 

You tilt your head. 

From behind the bathroom door, your name is screamed again. And a whimper punctuates it. 

In all your time of knowing Bucky, you’ve never once heard him so terrified. 

You swallow over the tension tightening your throat and pick up the first semi-threatening object you see: the penis-shaped vase Bucky had “unintentionally” made in ceramics during the semester he’d devoted to discovering his artistic side. 

You toss the pink peonies it houses aside and grip the vase tightly, pen poised in your other hand. You use your elbow to open the door, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in an attempt to look tough. Objects held above your head, you’re about to strike when— 

When you see Bucky standing on top of the toilet. Towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, chestnut hair dripping, his blue eyes wild. He’s also pale as a ghost, but his fearful expression takes only seconds to shift into one of confusion. 

One which matches yours. “You’re not being murdered?” 

“No!” he shouts back to meet your volume. He points at the glass wall enclosing the shower, finger shaking. “There’s a fucking spider in there!” 

Your teeth grit again. But this time in anger. “You shrieked like someone was beheading you over a spider?” 

Seconds later, you gasp dramatically as you ask, “You woke me up from a nap over a spider?” 

He at least has the decency to be sheepish. “S’a big spider.”

“You’re six-feet tall and have, like, 185 pounds on that spider.” 

“Size doesn’t matter. I raise you the poisonous spiders of Australia.” 

Nodding, you hold out your forearm to help Bucky off the toilet seat. You grunt at the weight of him. 

Maybe 185 is a stingy estimation. 

“Okay, I see your poisonous spiders of Australia and raise you ‘we’re in New fucking York, Bucky.’” 

Standing on the floor now, he winces when you use the back of your hand to slap his bicep. “There are poisonous spiders in New York, too, okay? We’re all afraid of something.” 

Silence as you regard him, a sigh as you concede. “Okay.” You ignore his victorious smile. “I’ll take care of it. Can you just turn the water off, please?” 

“And get close to that thing again?” he demands, outrage clear in his voice. He tries to keep his towel in place with one hand as he gesticulates with the other. “No! You do it.” 

“My clothes will get wet and I’m not in the mood to strip for you right now.” 

He smiles at that. “S’not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

“Yeah? You wanna make ‘we’ve fucked before’ jokes right now? When the fate of you ever using this bathroom again is in my hands?” 

An almost pathetic whimper and he relents with hands held up in surrender. He approaches the shower slowly and, with a scowl, reaches for the knob once, twice, three times before finally gripping it and turning it to the left. 

Once the steady stream of water is reduced to mere drops, Bucky stands back and sends you a glare. “Happy?” 

“Elated.” You set your weapons on the counter and rip off two sheets of paper towel. 

“Kill it quickly.” 

“I’m not gonna kill it.” 

He snorts as he stands leant against the doorframe. “What, are you gonna adopt it as the apartment pet?” 

“No, funny guy. I’m gonna let it go on the balcony.” 

“What if it comes back in?” 

“Then we’ll get the Five Families together and let the Mafia handle it.” 

When you finally spot the thick, quarter-sized spider, you inhale through your nose and step into the shower stall slowly. You brace yourself with one hand wrapped around the edge of the glass wall. Your features are pinched.

Bucky grins at the sight. “You scared, baby?” 

A sarcastic bark of laughter, and you crack one eye open. You almost convince him. “Please.” 

It takes little coaxing for the brown spider to crawl onto the paper towel and you immediately fold each side of it closed. There’s a soft scratch of the spider’s legs against the paper walls, more felt than heard, and you forcefully choke back vomit. 

You bump into Bucky as you race out of the bathroom, his towel very nearly slipping from his fingers, and don’t slow your steps until you’re across the living room and have pushed the balcony doors open. 

Carefully, you unfold one side of the makeshift cocoon and squeal quietly to yourself as the spider stumbles into a flower box attached to the metal rail. It quickly scurries behind a wilting tulip and you make a mental note to water the plants more.

“You were coming to protect me with this?” 

Bucky, now dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of navy blue sweatpants, is holding the penis vase when you turn. He stands at a safe distance, shielded by the door, and has the nerve to wear a shit-eating grin. “You know there’s a baseball bat behind the couch, right?” 

“Now I do.”

“I also gave you pepper spray when you enrolled in that nine PM lecture,” he adds as you walk through the door and right past him. He places the vase back on its shelf and nods his head toward the kitchen. “There are knives right there, too.” 

You pick up the bag of Doritos, confirm that it is indeed empty, and frown. “Disgusting. I’d never stab someone.” 

“Even if they were murdering me like you thought?” He takes the bag from you and balls it up to throw in the trash. He wants to open the refrigerator but knows the groceries he forgot to buy won’t magically appear on the shelves. 

“Knives are such a cliché, everyone uses knives. He’d see it coming.” You grin at Bucky through the explanation from your favorite corner of the couch and he stills behind the kitchen counter. “The key is throwing him off his rhythm. Penis vase serves that purpose.” 

He laughs, albeit a bit oddly, rolling his eyes as he opens the Notes app on his phone. And he draws a blank. “What, uh— What foods do you like?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do you have any favorite foods?”

He’s met with silence. 

He decides to explain. Sort of. “Like, what do you want to eat most of the time? What is it that you crave? Food-wise,” he adds with a cocked eyebrow. “What is it you know how to make that you enjoy eating? Are you acting out of lunacy again and dieting for no fuckin’ reason?” 

Seconds go by and you have yet to answer. He looks up from his phone and answers the question over your features with, “Just out of curiosity.” 

“Not because you have zero idea what to buy from the store?”

“Can’t a guy wonder what his friend, ex-girlfriend, and roommate is eating these days? Just for fun? To bond?” 

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Not when that guy is you and it’s your turn to go grocery shopping. I thought I gave you a list a few days ago.” 

“You yell random items at me on your way out the door for class and I’m expected to remember it all?” 

“You yelled your feelings at me constantly and I was expected to remember it all,” you return as you rise from the couch and draw closer to him only to sit in one of the barstools at the counter. You watch as he opens his Notes application again and stare as he struggles to come up with anything. “Green apples, white peaches, red bell peppers, yellow onions. Don’t look at me like that. The colors are important.”

“Yeah, yeah. What are you doing for dinner? Might take me some time to decipher colors at the store.” 

Chin propped up on your palm, you slide his phone over and ignore his expression of protest to add eggs, sourdough bread, avocados, pre-cut mushrooms, celery, hummus, whatever pasta is shaped like a spiral, tortilla chips, oat milk, any flavor of microwave popcorn Wanda won’t finish, and for God’s sake, you fucking wreck, buy your own gum for once to the grocery list.

“S’okay. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

“You’re always hungry.”

You gasp in offense with a small, contradictory smile. “How dare you? That’s not something you say to a lady.”

He smiles sarcastically before rolling his eyes. “If you need me to rush so you can make something, I will.” 

“Too tired to make anything. Also just too untalented to.” 

“Come with me, then. We can stop somewhere on the way back.” He sees you begin to refuse and cuts you off with a quick, “I’ll pay.” 

“If you think you paying for my food is incentive enough for me to put on human pants and walk out that door,” you begin, pointing at the door, “then you’re absolutely correct. Give me a second to put jeans on.” 

You hear Bucky’s chuckle as you walk into your room, tossing away that pair of fleece pants your mother had begged you to burn to ash the last time you’d seen her and replacing them with a pair of jeans your mother had also begged you to burn to ash. “How do you feel about Sam and Nat?” 

“About Sam, negatively. About Tasha, positively.” He’s patting the pockets of his sweats and tossing couch cushions every which way to look under them, hair in disarray, when you hop into the room with only your right boot on. In a mumbled, barely present voice, he adds, “So I guess that balances out to feeling neutral about them together.”

Slipping on and zipping up your left boot, you cock an eyebrow at the elephant throw pillow which is sent smacking against your ankles. “Have you lost something?” 

He doesn’t look up from the sofa as he replies, “Keys. Where the shit are my fucking keys?” 

“D’you check the cabinet closest to the fridge?” 

“Why the fuck—” 

You sigh and begin to set the cushions back where they belong, placing the elephant gingerly at the center of the couch. “Just check.” 

Bucky’s grumbles as he passes by, his scoffs of disbelief, and sighs of annoyance are ignored until you hear his every noise abruptly end as he stares at the cabinet he is now standing before. 

“Find ‘em?” 

There are equal parts shock, fear, and exasperation over his features. He slams the cabinet shut. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Some kind of freaky, all knowing witch?” 

“Yes. Do you have your wallet?” 

A pat on each of his pockets, then one against his ass— despite not having a pocket there. He bares his teeth for a moment. “You wanna tell me where that is, too?” 

“Can I get three guesses this time?” 

“Two,” he states, leaning against the counter. “Impress me.” 

“First of all, I couldn’t give half a shit about impressing you.” Bucky snorts at that. “It’s either in the freezer—” 

He opens the freezer and the next thing you hear is a loud, “Ha! Whoo! You’re wrong!” 

“I have another guess.” 

He visibly deflates, smug smile wiped clean. “Yeah, yeah. Go on.” 

“Counter of your bathroom, in the pocket of whatever jeans you wore to class.” 

You run a few steps behind his long strides to the bathroom and stand in the doorway as he fishes through the pile of dirty clothes beside the sink. 

He thinks he might hate the smile you’re wearing when he pulls his wallet from the depths of denim, but he can’t bring himself to hate it— he feels quite the opposite about it, actually. It’s worth the inevitable gloating and the crazy accurate interpretation of a celebratory dance you saw a football player you can’t remember the name of do after a touchdown. 

You’re laughing when he brushes past you to walk to the door and grin as you pass him so he can lock it behind you. “What would you do without me, Buck?” 

He honestly doesn’t know. 

— 

Your laughter captures Bucky’s attention. Delighted, excited, and entirely too loud. 

He’s been nursing a red Solo cup of lukewarm supermarket-brand cola for about two hours now. 

It’s disgusting. Watered-down now that the ice has melted, but still too sweet and a little flat. He would’ve liked to cut it with the bitterness of anything alcoholic, but he can’t. 

He’s designated driver tonight, after all. The miserable result of a miserable coin toss. 

He’d suggested thumb wrestling— but you weren’t having it. Something about his thumb being far larger than yours, giving him an unfair advantage. Almost as if you’d known he’d chosen thumb wrestling for that precise reason. 

So he’s spent the night pouting. 

Complaining. 

Glowering at anyone that dares to make conversation with him. 

Because he hates the cheap soda Steve buys. He hates the sticky counters Sam waits hours to wipe down. And he hates hearing underclassmen talk about how hot you are when your ping pong ball skates over the rim of one of Natasha’s cups. 

But he smiles at the sound of your laughter. At the way you grin, all smug and victorious. It lights up otherwise glossy eyes, drunken giggles growing clumsy as Natasha frowns down at a cup matching his. 

“You gotta drink it down, babe!” You lean your hip against the plastic table set up in the kitchen and purse your lips when Natasha fishes the beer-soaked ball from her cup to toss at your shoulder. “Poor sportsmanship is unbecoming on you.” 

Natasha rolls green eyes over the top of the cup, chugging its contents easily. “Just like cockiness is on you.” 

“Let’s not lie to ourselves, Nat.” Natasha is already struggling against a smile. “We all know cockiness is dead sexy on me.” 

Beside Bucky, Sam laughs. He raises his hands in innocence and surrender when Natasha shoots him a glare. “Not pickin’ sides, that was just funny.” 

“You’re not picking your girlfriend’s side automatically?” is Bucky’s question asked in a voice exaggeratedly naïve. He grins lopsidedly as he takes a sip of soda only to retch as it goes down. “That’s brave.”

You watch as Natasha pitches her next shot over the rim of one of four remaining cups. You send Bucky a smile as you retrieve it. “Bucky was always on my side when we were together.”

His devious smile is like a secret between the two of you. He hums in agreement. “Blindly.” 

“Loyally.” You hold the cup at your lips, stomach and cheeks warm from three hours of generous beer and mixed drink helpings. Your next swallow goes down with a shudder.

“I’d root against myself for her.” 

“S’more pathetic than loyal,” Sam snorts only to earn a squeak of indignation and an empty cup to the chest in response. Despite purported offense, he chuckles at your delighted laughter and quickly sobers to point a stern finger. “Makin’ a mess of my kitchen like this. Rogers’ll kill you.”

In challenge, you cock an eyebrow. “He’ll kill you first when he sees all the candy missing from his secret stash.” 

“Barnes ate all that.” 

Bucky’s stomach flips at the way you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, at the soft flutter of your eyelashes, the promise in your voice when you say, “Blind loyalty, Sammy. That isn’t the story I’ll tell Steve.” 

“You aren’t even dating anymore.” 

You wave a dismissive hand. “I’ll always be on Bucky’s side. Plus if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Pointedly at a glowering Sam, Bucky tears the wrapper of a fun-size Twix bar and takes as big a bite as the small bar will allow. 

There’s caramel in his teeth and smug satisfaction in his eyes as he stuffs the gold foil into the pocket of Sam’s bomber jacket, laughing when the latter slaps his hand away. 

What feels like a lifetime passes and Bucky waits until you’ve completed a second game— this time defeated by a furious and candy-less Steve— to Irish goodbye. 

It’s his signature. 

He hasn’t said a proper goodbye to anyone in years.

Your drunkenness, however, foils his plan. You insist on pressing kisses to the forehead of each of your friends— lingering a bit longer for Sam just to earn a snort from Natasha— and you tap the fishbowl housing a temperamental turquoise Betta fish named Marcel twice as you couldn’t just exclude Marcel and hurt his feelings. You even leave them with an ominous, “I hope we will all meet again.”  

He lets you climb onto his back when you stumble out of his car to your building, tripping over the four-inch block heel of your boots, and soon the elevator stall is filled with your humming. Unintelligible, entirely out of tune. And you swing your legs. Dysrhythmic, offbeat. 

He smiles when you set your chin upon the crown of his head, his hold on you tightening as the metallic doors slide open on the eighth floor. He feels the deep breath you take against his back, his attention drawn away from the short walk down the hall when your feather-like fingertips trace his jaw. 

Nails skimming over the bristly hairs of his stubbly beard to the hidden divot in his chin, you— already flush against him— attempt to push yourself even closer. And huff in disappointment when you’re unable to. 

You feel him come to a stop. “Sweetheart?” 

A short hum, this time in question. 

“I gotta unlock the door.” 

You open your eyes slowly, blink away some of the drowsiness. You think offhandedly that the pale yellow door could use a fresh coat of paint. “I’ll do it.” You hold out a hand and wiggle your fingers. “Keys?” 

“In my left pocket.” He chuckles when your right hand slides down the incorrect side. “Other left.” 

You heave a deep sigh, your other hand slipping into his left pocket to feel around. The jingle of keys is muted by your triumphant shout, fingers sorting through the bundle of steel to find the one semi-coated in bright pink nail polish. You decide that should be repainted first lest the two of you mix up your keys again.

Bucky watches as you attempt to stretch enough to reach the doorknob, jolting each time you urge yourself forward. He grins when you whimper pathetically. “You can ask me to move closer.” 

The arm still wrapped around his neck tightens a bit and you press your cheek to the roughness of his. You strain toward the door once more in stubborn perseverance, then knock your heels against the side of his thighs. He laughs at the growl in his ear.

“Ask me verbally. I’m not a horse.” 

“Got the name of one,” you mumble, crossing your ankles at his waist as he grips you harder. “Longer you stand there refusing to move, the longer you have-ta hold me up.” 

“Been lifting with Steve. I’m content to stand here all night.”

“What, trying to get that post-breakup revenge body?” 

“Gotta do something to fill all my new free time.” 

A hiccup punctuates your giggles and Bucky feels you straighten before leaning back ever so slightly. 

Suddenly, you jerk forward with all of your might, sending Bucky lurching to the door. He has to remove a hand from your legs to steady himself against the wall, breath shallow and heart in his ears when he notices he’s only centimeters from smashing into the wood. “Hey!” 

You, still holding on, shush him as you slip the key into the brass latch, whispering, “Our neighbors are sleeping.”

Once you’re able to throw the door open and Bucky walks inside, you detangle your ankles and leap to the floor as the lights flicker on. You laugh when your knees very nearly buckle, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter under a wave of lightheadedness. Your stomach flips and every trace of humor fades. “Yikes.” 

Bucky, halfway through removing the leather jacket he’d worn over a black hoodie, watches as you lay your torso across the counter. He smiles when you press your cheek to the cool marble, his laughter mingling with the groans that leave your lips. 

Your muffled grumble sounds vaguely like, “Oh, shut up.”

His steps are slow and quiet. He offers you an apologetic smile when you startle at his touch, brushing stray strands of hair from your shut eyes. He wrinkles his nose at your answering scowl, watching as glassy eyes still filled with such potent brightness narrow in an attempt at intimidation. “Need a lift to your bathroom?” 

You shake your head. Propping yourself up onto your forearms, you nod toward your room. “It’ll be too shaky. Maybe just guide me there?” 

His fingers lace through yours and he tugs you upright. He doesn’t mind supporting the weight of you, doesn’t care that he has to dodge the books and shoes you’ve left littered over your bedroom floor. 

Your bathroom light is switched on and you pull away from Bucky to take quick, stuttering steps to the toilet. He winces to himself when you fall to your knees, your trembling hands clamoring to push the seat cover up. 

As you feel that maybe your stomach has turned itself inside out, Bucky gathers your hair in one hand and holds you close to his chest with the other— just in case you need the support. Until then, though, he rubs comforting circles which warm you even through the satin fabric of your shirt. 

“Twix and beer are a horrible combination coming up,” you remark, voice rough, minutes later. You’re seated against him once you’ve thoroughly emptied your system, head falling back onto his shoulder. “That last game of beer pong was a mistake.”

He feels your breath wash over his skin and, despite how perfectly okay he would be with sitting there for hours, turns his head away. “Sweetheart, I want to be here for you but— but I can’t when your breath smells like that.” 

Stunned pause, and you burst into laughter. Tired hands are used as leverage and you stand, boots long ago removed and thrown aside. You send him a smile over your shoulder and roll your eyes but face the sink as he grins dopily back. “You’re weak, Barnes.” 

He meets your playful gaze in the mirror and, at the sight of pooled dried mascara underlining your eyes and the thin layer of sweat spread over the bridge of your nose, he forces himself to take a steadying breath. “You have no idea. Hungry?” 

Loading your toothbrush with translucent paste, you shrug. “Maybe.” 

“Grilled cheese or pancakes?” 

“If I say both, will you judge me?” 

“I just held your hair back while you threw up a keg’s worth of beer and you’re afraid I’ll start to judge you now?” 

You smile as you scrub your teeth in rapid strokes. “There was some vodka in there, too.”

Shoulder leant against the doorframe, his eyes are alight. “My mistake. Anything else you’d like while I’m at it?” 

“Some ibuprofen?” you ask after spitting the foam from your mouth. “I’m all out here.” 

A frown of consideration, and he nods. “Will that be all?” 

“Yes, I believe it will be.” Before he can walk out, you call his name. “What would I do without you?” 

He honestly hopes you’ll never have to find out.

--

CHAPTER 3: GETTING BACK IN THE GAME 

[littlethingwithfeathers]

Quarantine Cuisine: My Granny’s Chicken Spaghetti

Alright. Storytime. I had a tiny Italian granny. Granny Alma. Big glasses. Plaid cotton shirts that she made herself. Curly gray hair drenched in Aquanet. If you want something to picture... picture Sophia from the Golden Girls, but some how taking even less shit. She was great. I miss her dearly... but she lives on in a way. I live in her old house. I still cook with some of her cooking utensils using her recipes. So in a way, I still get to have her cooking... in her kitchen no less! And she made sure her recipes got passed down. I still have some of the scraps of paper where she wrote them down... her handwriting and everything! Banana pudding. Chicken and dumplings. Tortellini soup. So this is my tiny Italian granny’s spaghetti recipe. She made it all the time. At least once a month if not more. It was her lauded and celebrated recipe... passed down to everyone in the family... And it is nothing like any tomato sauce recipe I’ve ever seen. No onions... no wine... no actual tomatoes even. It just uses tomato paste. In fact... that’s all it is. Just some garlic and olive oil, some tomato paste and water... seasoned with parsley and grated parm. It’s weird. Super weird. I’d call anyone who claimed it was a family recipe going back generations a liar. Except... when you think about it, it makes sense. My Italian relatives came into the country in the very late 1800s via the Mississippi rather than Ellis Island. And thus, I hypothesize that they couldn’t get a lot of the usual staples of home. Garlic, sure. Pasta? They could make that themselves. But tomatoes? Sure, they were here, but not the ones like back home. And then a few decades later, The Great Depression hits. And then corporatization of food supplies after that... canned tomato paste was probably the only tomatoes of any kind they could regularly get. So the recipe changed little by little over the years to the strange method it is today. And it’s delicious. Don’t get me wrong. SO GOOD OMG. Plus it’s most certainly the scion of Depression era cooking... which makes it good shelf staple quarantine food! And you can substitute protein like crazy! Don’t have chicken? Use chunks of Italian sausage links! Or make meatballs with beef or lamb or sausage. Or even better? add shrimp at the end and just cook them through in the finished sauce. Divine. Again... this is poor people pseudo-Depression era food... in my life, I’ve eaten squirrel, rabbit, and dove spaghetti. True story. So yeah. This is definitely quarantine food. Let’s recipe! 1 pound long pasta (we usually use angel hair, but spaghetti, linguini, or fettucini also work. This sauce is a little thin for anything chunky like ziti or farfalle) 3 TBS olive oil 5-6 cloves garlic, minced 4oz mushrooms, sliced (I like white buttons for this... also these are optional) 1 small red bell pepper, julienned (optional) 6-8 chicken thighs (bone in or boneless) 1 small can tomato paste 3-4 TBS flat leaf parsley, chopped (you can use curly or skip it) 3-4 TBS grated Parmesan cheese (Romano works too... or whatever’s in the green shakey-cheese can.) Salt and pepper (pro tip... this can be made vegetarian by just doubling the veggies and skipping the meat. Also slivered onion is delicious with this.) Heat olive oil over medium heat in a large heavy bottomed pot and add garlic. Cook until fragrant but not browned (2-3 minutes at most) and add mushrooms and peppers and cook until just softened. Add the chicken and toss in the oil until starting to brown.  Add the tomato paste and stir well. Allow the paste to cook and stick a little to the pan, but don’t let it burn. Keep it moving. Add six cups of water and stir well (and pro tip: rinse out the tomato paste can with a little water). Bring to a simmer and add the cheese, salt, pepper, and parsley. Simmer for... awhile. An hour at least. Let this cook down slowly until it resembles a cohesive but still loose sauce.... think canned tomato sauce.  When the sauce is nearly ready, bring a large pot of water to a boil and cook your pasta per the package instructions. Drain in a colander but don’t let it drain too long... you still want some water clinging to it. Dump straight into the sauce, toss well and serve with more grated cheese.

[bthenoise]

Quaran-Dine & Chill: Here are 12 Homemade Food Recipes From Some Of Your Favorite Bands

Look, we get it: You’re bored. You’re stuck at home with nothing to do and to top it all off you’re absolutely starving with no idea what to make except for a peanut butter & jelly sandwich. 

Thankfully, we knew this would happen so we reached out to some amazing artists to see if they had any recipes to help us all get through this never-ending period of social distancing. 

Submitting for a feature we like to call “Quaran-Dine & Chill,” bands like Mayday Parade, The Used, August Burns Red, Atreyu, Periphery, New Found Glory and more have all pitched in some of their most favorite recipes to make from home. 

To check out how to create Groovy Toast, cook some of Herbie’s Homemade Chicken Taquitos or even put together some Veggie Pasta with Vegan Ass White Sauce, be sure to look below. Afterward, remember, before making anything to eat, WASH YOUR DAMN HANDS!

Oh, and there’s also a special 35-song Quaran-Dine & Chill playlist at the end of all this. Listen to it as loud as you possibly can -- we hear it helps the food taste better. 

Enjoy! 

JAKE BUNDRICK - MAYDAY PARADE

JAKE’S OVERNIGHT OATS

Ingredients 1/2 cup oatmeal (any type will work but I personally like Old Fashioned or Rolled Oats) 1 cup water 1 scoop protein powder (It's not necessary by any means but I prefer French Vanilla from TrueNutrition) 3/4 cup of either frozen berries or fresh berries (strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, black berries... you can either add this now to soak overnight or wait until you're ready to eat and then add berries. It's up to you) 1 banana sliced 1 tablespoon of natural peanut butter

Instructions Mix oatmeal, water, protein and frozen berries together in a bowl or jar (frozen berries are optional). You could forego this and choose to add fresh berries later.

Cover and let sit in the fridge overnight or for a few hours -- your choice.

After soaking, add fresh berries if you haven't already. Then add bananas and peanut butter.

Enjoy.

MATT HALPERN - PERIPHERY

REALLY HEALTHY “CEREAL”

I love cereal but I don't want all the bad stuff associated with most cereals. So I came up with a healthy alternative. It's pretty simple.

Grab a bowl

Add Trader Joe's Go Raw Trek Mix

Slice up some strawberries and add them too

Throw on a couple blueberries

Add 1% milk

And there ya have it! Really hearty, really healthy, easy to make “cereal” that actually fills you up!

MATT GREINER - AUGUST BURNS RED

DEER CAMP BREAKFAST CASSEROLE 

Ingredients 18 eggs 2 cups of milk 1 cup cheddar cheese 1 lb bacon 1 lb loose sausage 1 ts salt 1 tb pepper 1 pack hash browns

Instructions Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees

Brown sausage and bacon separately-drain

Pan fry hash browns until golden brown

Grease a 13” x 9” baking pan and line the bottom with hash browns

Add a layer of bacon

Add a layer of sausage

Whip the eggs in a large bowl, then add the mix, salt and pepper, mix well

Add the cheese to the eggs and mix again

Pour the egg mixture over the meat and hash browns

Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 25-30 minutes 

Remove foil and bake until the top of the casserole begins to brown. Then remove from the oven.

BRENT WALSH - I THE MIGHTY

B-LEE'S BREAKFAST FEAST

Ingredients Hash browns 2 eggs Onions Garlic Mushrooms Peppers Cheddar cheese Black pepper Salt Ketchup Valentina (black label, extra hot) hot sauce Olive oil

Instructions First, get the hash browns going in a frying pan with lots of oil. They take the longest. 

In a second pan, get all the veggies going adding garlic when everything else is almost done so that you don't burn the garlic.

When the hash browns are done, plate them and immediately add the cheese to taste. 

The veggies should be about done by this time so add those on top. 

Fry the eggs (I like mine over medium) in the original pan you cooked the hash browns in and add salt and pepper while they cook. 

I like to top it all off with some black label Valentina hot sauce and a little ketchup. 

Add a coffee and mimosa on the side and boom, you got yourself a good ol' quarantine breakfast feast.

MARK HOLCOMB - PERIPHERY

SRIRACHA TUNA SALAD

Take two cans of tuna, break it up in a mixing bowl, toss with two tablespoons of celery, half an onion and some chopped fresh parsley.

Add 1/3 cup of mayonnaise (or veganaise if you’re a tree-hugging hippy like me), 1 tablespoon mustard, and several tablespoons of Sriracha depending on how spicy you want it.

Top off with some ground pepper and lemon juice, to taste.

Also feel free to add half a diced apple if you like some sweetness and crunchy texture in there.

Delicious, healthy and super simple.

JEPHA - THE USED

GROOVY TOAST

Soak a cup of any kind of nut (almond, cashew etc..) overnight in water.

Next day, strain most of the water except for a little bit to help blend it.

Put soaked nuts in blender with a dash of lemon, a pinch of salt, pepper, two tablespoons of olive oil.

Blend until smooth.

Optional fun: slice something spicy like a jalapeño.

Add “Groovy cheese” to either toast or crackers.

Drizzle olive oil and lemon on top of “Groovy Toast” with a spicy, spicy jalapeño and let your mouth party like your stuck at home for the next month or so 🤙

CYRUS BOLOOKI - NEW FOUND GLORY

SHEPHERD’S PIE

Ingredients: Ground Beef (or turkey, or chicken, or any kind of meat for that matter) Onion, diced (optional) Frozen veggies (1 bag of pretty much anything you have, normally a carrot/corn/peas mix, but seriously, anything will do) Worcestershire Sauce (optional, but check the back of your cupboard because you probably have a bottle that’s been sitting there for years and is still good!) Potatoes (again, any kind of potatoes will do) Cheese (cheddar is the standard, but use what you have!)

Instructions: Cook your meat in a skillet, seasoning with salt and pepper and adding diced onion if you have while cooking.  

Cook/microwave your bag of frozen veggies and add directly into the meat and stir.

Now’s the time to find that Worcestershire sauce if you have it -- if not, don’t worry, this is awesome without it too!

Add a cup of cheese in there and also 1/2 cup of liquid (could be water, could be chicken/beef broth if you have). Stir to combine all ingredients and turn to low heat to keep warm.

Meanwhile, make mashed potatoes however you can (whether by hand or with a box) and when done layer these two things in an ovenproof dish — meat/veggie mix on bottom, mashed potatoes on top.

Toss cheese all over the top of that and throw it in the oven on medium heat for 20 minutes to melt the cheese.

Now, sit back, relax and enjoy your dish whether with family or all alone. It’s a full meal all in one, tastes even better the next day and you can even freeze it!

BRANDON SALLER - ATREYU

WINNER WINNER ISOLATION DINNER (Crispy Baked Chicken Thighs)

Ingredients Bone-in chicken thighs w/ skin Salt (coarse salt works best but any will work fine) Pepper Garlic powder Mixed herbs or Italian seasoning Desired veggie - Whatever you have (ie broccoli, green beans, asparagus, zucchini) Italian dressing (your favorite)

Instructions Preheat oven to 400º  

Pat dry chicken on both sides with a paper towel

Season both sides of chicken liberally. Especially the top. The key to this chicken is the well seasoned crispy skin.

Place on sheet pan and roast in oven for about 40 minutes. You are looking for the chicken to be cooked through and skin to be browned and crispy.

When chicken has about 20 minutes left, put marinated veggies on a sheet pan and roast until chicken is done.

When finished, let chicken rest for about 5 minutes as it just came out of a 40-minute fiery hell and will 100% burn your mouth.

ENJOY!

IRA GEORGE - MOVEMENTS

TACO SALAD

This is a very easy and fluid dish that you can make on your own with ease. Whether you are a vegetarian or vegan, you can make this fit your lifestyle.

Ingredients 1 bag of chopped romaine 1 can of black beans 1 frozen bag of white or brown rice 1 cup of frozen corn (thawed) Soyrizo (or any type of ground meat) 1/2 bell pepper 2 Roma tomatoes 1/3 yellow onion 1 avocado Cilantro 1 lime Taco sauce of your choice Cilantro dressing (or something comparable) Diced jalapeños Shredded Mexican cheese Handful of tortilla chips

Instructions Dice the bell pepper, yellow onion and Roma tomatoes

Chop a handful of cilantro

Thaw corn in microwave

In a small pot heat up the can of beans

Cook the soyrizo or other meat in a pan at the same time (if you are using meat you will need to season to your liking)

Heat rice in microwave (if using uncooked rice have it ready before everything)

Grab a big bowl and put rice down. Add the cilantro and lime and toss together

Now add everything else however you want. Remember this is a completely fluid meal, add or takeout any ingredient you feel. Get creative with it! DON’T FORGET TO ADD THE AVOCADO AND SAUCES!!

NICK VENTIMIGLIA - GRAYSCALE

HERBIE’S HOMEMADE CHICKEN TAQUITOS

Servings: 12 Calories: 241 Prep time: 20 min Cook time: 20 min Total time: 40 min

Ingredients 3oz cream cheese 1/4 cup salsa of your choice 1 tablespoon lime juice 1 1/2 teaspoon of taco seasoning 2 fresh cloves of garlic, minced 3 tablespoons cilantro or parsley 2 scallions diced 2 cups shredded cooked chicken or whatever protein you desire 1 cup Mexican blend cheese or whatever you want 12 6in flour tortillas Cooking spray Kosher salt

Instructions Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, mix together the cream cheese, salsa, lime juice, taco seasoning, garlic, cilantro, and scallions until well combined and creamy. Add in the cooked chicken and cheese; stir to thoroughly combine.

Working with a few tortillas at a time, heat them in the microwave between two paper towels until they are soft enough to roll (about 10 seconds).

Spoon 3 tablespoons of the chicken mixture onto the lower third of a tortilla. Roll the tortilla tightly.

Place the rolled tortilla seam side down on the baking sheet. Repeat with remaining tortillas until the mixture is gone, making sure the taquitos are not touching each other.

Spray the tops lightly with cooking spray and sprinkle with a little kosher salt (don’t skip the salt!)

Bake for 15-20 minutes or until crisp and golden.

Serve with salsa, sour cream, or guacamole.

BALSAC THE JAWS 'O DEATH - GWAR

I offered up my recipes for Feline Fricassee and Poodle Wellington but my publicist informed me that things hadn't yet gotten to the point where most people are ready to eat their pets. Instead, here is a recipe that you should be able to throw together without having to take that dreaded trip to the supermarket. 

Now more than ever, everyone should be able to hunt and kill their own food. So the first thing you will need to do is grab your favorite battleaxe, knife or shotgun and go in your backyard. Look for the happy yellow flowers that are probably taking over your poorly manicured lawn. Pick as many of these as you can find, making sure to pull them out from the roots keeping the long dark green leaves intact. You may be asking, “What do I need this shotgun for?” The weapon is in case your neighbor sees you and tries to shake hands!

DOOMSDAY DANDELIONS 

Ingredients Dandelion greens 1/2 cup olive oil 3 tablespoons vinegar (red wine vinegar or balsamic work best but whatever kind you can find in your cupboard. It is the apocalypse after all) 1 tablespoon mustard (Dijon if you've got it but who am I kidding, you only have that horrible yellow crap!) 2 cloves garlic minced Salt and pepper 2 teaspoons dry herb (use whatever you can find. What are you saving that stuff for?)

Instructions Pick the flowers off the dandelion greens (these are edible too, I suggest beer battering them and frying them, but that's another recipe and I'm not getting paid for this). 

Trim the hairy roots from the greens and discard. 

Wash all the dirt from the greens, cut them in half at the base keeping the leaves attached and soak in clean cold water. 

Wisk all other ingredients together until they are a cohesive solution. 

Drain and pat dry the greens and dress them with the vinaigrette. 

Enjoy by yourself!!

SCHUYLAR CROOM - HE IS LEGEND

VEGGIE PASTA WITH VEGAN ASS WHITE SAUCE

Ingredients 1 medium onion chopped 3 cloves of garlic Red bell pepper julienned Broccoli florets Mushrooms sliced thin Zucchini halved and sliced Yellow squash quartered and sliced 1 or 4 splashes of white wine

Finisher Sauce 1/4 cup of unsweetened oat milk 1 or 2 tbs coconut oil 1/4 cup vegan mayo A few handfuls of vegan cheese (I used a vegan pepper jack by Daiya and a bit of Follow Your Heart Parmesan) 1/3 cup of Nutritional yeast Fresh basil

Herbs and Spices Kosher Salt Fresh ground pepper Herbes de Provence Some other optional shit

Pasta Fettuccine noodles ( I like that Ancient Grain in the blue box.)

Instructions Boil salted water for your noodles and in a separate pot boil a few cups of water to blanche your broccoli. You’ll be mad if your water is not boiling before you start sautéing your veg... that shit goes quick, watched pots never boil.

In a large saucepan over med/high heat: Sauté onion for about 5 minutes until it is soft and almost translucent. Add chopped garlic until that smell wakes up your girlfriend. Boom you’re cooking. Salt and pepper that junk.

Add the peppers, mushrooms, zucchini and squash, hit it with some more salt and pepper. I like to throw in some Herbes de Provence and a TINY SPRINKLE of cayenne (a little goes a long way) plus some truffle salt because I’m fancy.

By now the lil pot should be boiling. Throw those broccoli guys in there and when they turn dark ass green drain them and throw them in the pot with the other veggies.

Shit’s all steamy now. It smells crazy good. Your girlfriend and your dog are in the kitchen salivating.

Hit those veggies with some white wine. I say a few dashes, but you’ll know. You’re gonna want to let that cook off for 3-5 minutes.

Maybe you’ve already put your noodles in. If so, they’re ready to drain. If not, get to it 9 minutes after the water starts boiling again (read the box)

Now your noodles are in the strainer. Make your partner divide that into bowls.

After the wine has cooked off, add the veganaise, coconut oil, vegan cheeses and the nutritional yeast and stir all of that up until melty and gooey and combined with the veggies. I like the throw in about half a cup of chopped sliced basil and leave a little for a garnish after you’ve topped your pasta with this creamy ass veggie goodness.

OH! Pro tip: Garlic bread. (Do this 40 minutes ago before starting anything else.)

Take 2 heads of garlic and peel most of the skin off but leave bulb intact.

Chop the very top of the head off the garlic to expose the clove (like 1/16 of the top).

Place it in tinfoil and close it up around the sides. Douse with a generous amount of olive oil and salt and pepper all over that opening on the bulb and close the foil up tight around the top. Create a little oven inside your oven.

Bake at 375 for 40 minutes. You’ll smell it.

Let it cool well.

Toast a loaf of French bread.

Those little garlic cloves will pop out like little teardrops of pure heaven. Smear that junk on your toasted bread and thank me later. The oil is now roasted garlic oil. You could drizzle that on the bread too or over the damn pasta that’s in the bowl.

(Be careful. You will want to skip the steps of letting the bulbs cool. They are unforgivingly hot and will burn your flesh.)

[gandreida]

Spent the last week watching lots of horror movies with my partner 🥰

Started off with not so horror movies but sorta been binging.

Hotel Transylvania, Suicide Squad, Rem Lazar, The Thing(1982), Friday the 13th(1980) Friday the 13th Part 2(1981), A Nightmare on Elm Street(1984), A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge(1985), Scream(1996), Scream 2(1997), Puppet Master(1989), Silent Hill(2006), Aliens(1986), Hereditary(2018).

Besides Hotel Transylvania, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Silent Hill, Rem Lazar, and Hereditary, I haven't actually seen any of these movies. We didn't watch them in that order, but it's definitely been fun just staying in. We went out hiking and exploring abandoned properties pretty much every day last time they were here, so this is pretty much the opposite of that. It's just nice doing things with them 💜

We cooked some spaghetti together tonight, had mushrooms, green/red bell peppers, garlic, onion and ground beef. Also made some garlic bread with white bread, but and chopped garlic baked in the oven.

we played a little bit of guitar and banjo together tonight, with me on the guitar. I had a strumming style that threw them off so we had to figure out the exact beat I was doing so we could be well timed and play in tandem. Last time we did that was a few days ago but instead i was on violin and them on guitar. I'm not great with creating melodies on the spot though so I'd just play random notes I thought sounded nice which worked pretty alright I guess, but I definitely need to keep up on practicing so I can better freestyle with them.

I love my partner so damn much and it's gonna be so sad when they leave next week, 12 days isn't enough 🥰😭🤎

[namjoonchronicles]

Autumn – [BTS] Yoongi!Au

[A/N] Song: Dead Leaves by Prod. Min Suga.

“Autumn is really at its height now, look at all the dead leaves on the street.” Mother huffed.

Who’d knew that cracking eggs could be so therapeutic?

Two. Three, and four eggs into the large bowl. Until Yoongi’s mother handed you a large fork as she past, and her voice intruded your thoughts. “…The infamous egg roll we’ve all missed. I never thought I would be tasting that again.” She smiled fondly at the onion she peeled and chopped them into halves. You grinned sheepishly, feeling kind of proud that they’ve spoken about it even when you’re not there. The last time they ate it, was at least three to four years ago. “I’m going to make it extra delicious today, with little bits of sausages,” you started whisking gently.

“…Do you need salt?” You heard her asked and replied a simple nod. “…It’s been awhile since we do this, isn’t it?” She proceeds to chop the onions thinly next, before moving to the carrots. Then she inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if she had been thinking a lot if she should say this or not, but knowing you since you were a teenager, she didn’t hesitate. “… Why can’t Yoongi just date you? You’re smart. You know how to cook. You’re absolutely adorable.” She blinked to the blade and your smile thinned a bit, as if you know how she feels about it. That unfortunate feeling. “…Mom,” you affectionately called her, even if you were not blood-related. The relationship you shared is as close as the one a mother and a daughter would share. “…Everyone has their own type. Yoongi has his. We don’t have to be in a relationship for this to happen… Didn’t you say he brought some of them home to you? The girls,” You prepared the skillet on the stove and turned the heat on before sprinkling some oil on them.

“He dated a few girls. I don’t think it was dating. More like, how should I put it?” Yoongi’s mother pauses before snapping her head up when she had the word in her head and out her lips, “…Passing time.” You snickered lightly. You never understood people who has a relationship in order to pass time. You’ve always thought that relationship are something very intimate between two individuals, and if the relationship is because of love and affection, then it should have preceded to marriage. That is the very objective of dating—to be married. “How were they like?” You thought changing the subject would divert the attention from you but Yoongi’s mother wasn’t intending to leave you behind just yet. “…Just pretty.” You snorted at her answer and she giggled along with you. “Ah! Mother! That’s not very nice.” Your wrist rotated the pan to let oil even out before you take the bowl filled with whisked egg.

You pour the entire amount into the pan at medium heat. The sizzling sound filled the living room, and down the hallway of Yoongi’s apartment. The laughter died down. “But it’s true. That’s all they were. Just…pretty.” Mother laid her knife to rest and leaned her back to the counter watching you at work, expertly controlling the stove and pan. Hair tight in a messy bun, dashing to the counter to grab the chopped onions and bell peppers. “…But boys will be boys, mother.” You stated and turned to her and her puppy eyes, begging for what you already knew. Her gazes spoke louder than words, just pleading.You had to break contact, and stared at your feet, shaking your head lightly, “…Would you want him to be with someone he doesn’t like? I mean, it’s Yoongi.” You shrugged your shoulder, turn off the stove, and then goes leaning against the counter, oppose to Yoongi’s mother.

“…I want Yoongi to be happy. What matters most, is that.” Your eyes slide to hers slowly and you tilted your head to the side, smiling, hoping to mend her heart by it. “…What a fine daughter-in-law you’ll make to someone, one day,” she murmured, and averting her eyes and body to resumed chopping green onions, and, “…I’m already jealous of her.” The front door beeped open, and before you could even see his face, he was mumbling through a short walkway approaching the kitchen. Paper bags in arms, a couple of fruits, heavy footsteps with socks, muttering, “I had to go all the way downtown, because the convenient store downstairs? They ran out of meat. I bought watermelon and some honeydew.” He placed them all on the counter. “…Did you get the flower beetroot?” You inched next to him as he got rid of his jacket. He looked down and nodded on the list you wrote. “This one was a bit tricky. Who’d knew there was so many types of mushroom?” Yoongi whined and his lips becomes pouty, like always. You giggled, and start to organize the things. “It’s your turn now.” You said to him, passing him a bowl. “…Braised spicy seafood? It’s my time now? Let me wash my hands.” He started rolling up his sleeves and a flash came from mother’s direction. “You two really looked like a married couple.” She excited safe the photo from her phone and Yoongi started groaning in dissatisfaction, “…Mother! We are handling serious issue here. Is this the time to take pictures?”

You pinched him by the sleeve and urged him to go wash his hands quickly instead of bickering with his mother and he wordlessly go. “I have to do the squids right? Take out the guts and everything?” He asked while drying his washed hands. You nodded while taking a bite from the cookie in his hand, he took the rest of the unbitten piece in his mouth like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “…You need to strip the squid and wash the guts off. The tentacles needs to be skewed with your nail. That’s where most of the dirt are,” before exclaiming in full-mouth, “Is this soft cookie from Betty’s Cookie Jar shop?” Yoongi took the knife from Mother’s chopping board and started to clean the squids, nodding. You turned your head up to where Mother is, but she disappeared to the hallway with her phone, “…How small do you want your squid?” Yoongi’s question made you resumed plating the eggrolls on a cute plate.

“Bite-size.” You shot. Yoongi’s lips protruded as he focused. “How’s work?” He asked, and you clicked your tongue immediately, right after. “I think I have my answers.” He smacked his lips together and slightly nodded while you throw your head back, laughing. “We agreed not to talk about work on this fine weekend!” You scolded him, slapping his arm playfully. “…I went on a blind date…” You started. “Oh?” Yoongi replied, his smile is gone and all that’s left is that stoned expression as he gathered his squid into a plate. You took the pot from the side and placed them on the stove. “Yeah. He was nice.” You recalled. The guy wore loose white Polo shirt with jeans. He had this ridiculously gorgeous smile and an expensive wrist watch that he made sure, was seen by you. Or maybe you were a bit sceptical.

You also remembered that he liked reading. He was reading when you came. And you noticed that he was honest, too. Provided in the way you eyed his phone when a message came he promptly answered your questioning eyes with a blunt, unpretentious, “…A notification about a book I ordered. It says it’s coming tomorrow.” He gave you that same smile again, and you nibbled the piece of meat from your fork. “…You know, you’re the first girl I’ve ever went on a date with, who ordered steak instead of salads.” He tips his head back then to the side, as if he had been contemplating to say it, all this time you were here. “I like my steaks.” You gushed, shamelessly and the twinkle in his eyes tells you that it wasn’t something he would be despised of, but yet, something he actually adored.

“It’s a compliment! It’s really a compliment,” he showed his toothy smile, hiding the embarrassment behind his large pair of hands. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like it’s a bad thing.” His laughter cools down and you suddenly starting to feed on his adorable grin, with your cheeky eyes. “Everything you say sounded like a government’s mans’ speech. Maybe it’s your deep voice. It’s very sexy.” You blurted out, confidently. He cleared his throat and reached for a glass of water, before it tips overs splashed the liquid over the carpeted floor. You handed him your glass and waved for a waiter. The dinner date ended shortly after, and unlike his confident expressions before, he constantly look away, apologizing and staying oddly quiet. The event affected him. He sent you off with a taxi, fully paid and you knew from the way he turned his back to you, you were not going to see him ever again. Not because you weren’t a potential girlfriend, but because he couldn’t forgive himself for making a mistake, no one intended. And you knew from that, that he is going to be hard to please and he will self-blame himself until it consumes him. A relationship with him will become toxic if he doesn’t reciprocate an approach you initiated.

You blinked, and you were back in the kitchen with a very silent Yoongi. And the conversation ended there, until Yoongi’s mother walked back in.

“Everything good?” She greeted. “Yeah.” “Yup.”

The lunch on a Saturday began shortly after Yoongi finished making his braised spicy seafood. You were listening to mom ranting about a shop assistant who wouldn’t explain why her coupons couldn’t be used, while Yoongi stays very quiet. You noticed that and looked at him, from across the table. You placed an eggroll in his bowl, he picks them up with his chopstick, took them in his mouth and snapped his head to the side, chewing. His jaw muscle tensed. “I mean,” Mother began, “…I don’t understand.” Yoongi cleaned up his plate with a single swipe of the spoon. “…Why won’t you guys date?” Mother finished her sentence and you dropped your gaze to your bowl. Yoongi took his away and pushed the chair back, signalling that he’s done with his lunch, “…I know right.” Yoongi started to rinse his bowl, tilting his head back a little, gawking an insincere smile.

“…Why won’t we date?” He dried his hands, take the plate of frozen honeydew from the fridge and to the table where you were. “You guys will be perfect for each other. I like her. Tell me, darling, is it Yoongi?” Mother patted your knee underneath the table. A broken smile crept on your lips, hesitantly. The chopstick you used to eat seemed so heavy. As you recalled the events that unfold in your head when you heard the word ‘date’ and ‘Yoongi’ in one sentence.

It must have been a week after the summer ended, and autumn began, several years ago. The autumn leaves started to scatter every time the wind blows. Yoongi’s attention shifted to the ground while you gaze up to the only leaf that’s hanging on the twig of a frail-looking tree, by the small pond of your hometown. “Barely hanging on.” You whispered. And in Yoongi’s head, was all the words he wished he could have said, his silence that you understood so much and you passed a knowing smile. “…I know you want to hold on,” You said to him, digging your hands far into the hoodie he lend you. “…But I want you see the world. See other girls. Date many other girls, first. And if, you still want me, you can come back to me. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re making a mistake when you are in a relationship with me.” You explained.

Ridiculous. One word in Yoongi’s head.

Why would wanting to date you—be a mistake? Why would wanting to choose you, of all these girls around, be a mistake? Why is it wrong to want someone you want? Yoongi thought that you didn’t think he was good enough. That’s why he didn’t bother to fight for you. A withering love that he felt, wasn’t the same thing you feel. You were simply giving him a choice. Yoongi knows only you, and it would be a waste for him to never know all the types of girls out there, when he could. “So you don’t want me.” He spat, forcing his lips out and nodded, sourly at the trees above. “No… I just don’t want you to feel spared of what the world had to offer.” You softly say, kicking air. “I don’t care what the world had to offer,” He slummed, and he sighs, “…And if you put it that way, then fine. I’ll roam around the world, see other people, but only because you told me to, not because I wanted to. I can’t hold on to things that wants to drift away.” The heavy conversation dims that way, with no words from you. You left for main city to study, and Yoongi went to do resumed his passion. Both of you went separate ways. For a while, for two, three years.

Yoongi walked past the living room and snatched his iPad before walking down the hallway to his room. “Why don’t you guys date?” Mother asked, impatiently. “Ask her…” Yoongi grumbled.

Sun is setting soon, after spending the whole day with Yoongi and his mom, you told them you needed to go. But Yoongi’s mother always had an excuse to let you stay an hour longer. And an hour become two, two became three and before you know it, it was an hour before midnight. This time, Yoongi’s mother was laying asleep on the couch and Yoongi grabbed the car key across the table while you waited at the door. “…Come up with something so she’ll think I left because of emergencies.” You advised Yoongi, walking out the main door. “I’m not going to lie to my mother.” He grumbled back at you, leading the way to the elevator. “…It’s not the first time you lied to her.” You darted back, “You think she would really believe that you and the girls you brought home was just, a friendly fling? What a total bullshit.” You chucked your tongue. “You think I’m sleeping with them?” He shot.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, challenging.

Yoongi passed you a look that screams, unbelievable. “All these years of knowing me, and still, you would think I would sleep with just any girls. Am I a fuckboy?”

“With those looks? Undeniably, yes.” “Well glad to hear that. Everything is going as planned, yes?” He bit his lower lip as the lift descends to the parking lot. You didn’t think you needed to answer that. It was a trick question. He was clearly trying to remind you what you said to him on that autumn morning. Freeing him from his ‘leash’, releasing him from the latch he wants to be in. Drifting away from him, because you thought you were not enough for him, when he is clearly all you need. The drive home was accompanied by songs you knew he arranged. One particular song brought you back to that very day, and it was titled, ‘Dead Leaves’. You looked out the car window in silent, watching arrays of trees dancing in the subtle wind. The street partially empty down this side of the city, and you were overwhelmed with feelings you can’t explain.

So you started to speak, very slowly, just as the song ended. There was no track right after that one, suggests that it must have been the end of the track. “…I had a very difficult three years.”

“Mom’s health was deteriorating. Dad was working at 67, and I couldn’t find a job. My little brother was getting wavered by online games, and he was skipping class.” You blinked slowly at the view of the street, from the moving car. “…I had no one to turn to. I was devastated, and at many point during that span of three years, I thought of…disappearing. I thought of horrible things. I couldn’t stand at the top of the building, not wanting to be at the edge. I stared at the ceiling fan in my room, already knowing how to tie a knot with the belt. I put my face in the pillow and just when I started to stop breathing, I turned to the side, gasping for air. You have no idea how many times I said to myself, to live just one more day.” You wiped away a trickle of tear with the back of your hand. Yoongi stayed very silent, as usual.

“…Wow, I’ve been keeping this inside me for so long. Because couldn’t find the time to cry.” You giggled and sniffed. Yoongi was making a left turn to the apartment you stayed in, the guards granted entry and he walked you up to your apartment, accompanying you. “Thank you, for listening to my unfortunate rants. Thank you for letting me cook in your apartment. Thank you for being a good son and friend. Thank you for coming all the way up here to send me home. Just thank you so much, now off you go.” You said, standing behind the door of your apartment and when you were just about to shut the door, Yoongi placed his hand on it, stopping you. He hung his head low and you asked him why he did that.

He looked at you with a pair of eyes you didn’t recognise coming from Yoongi, through his bangs and filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “How dare you lived a life without me,” he grumbled, pushing the door wider as he speaks, “…I like the fact that you suffered without me. But I hate the fact that you didn’t run to me, when you could have. And should have.” He is in your apartment completely now, clenching his jaws. “Because of your pride?” He tips his head to the side a bit before grabbing you, before you could even reply, held you by the back of your neck and placed his lips on you. He took your scent in as if he had been waiting for so long for this, inhaling you. And his kiss was gentle as it progresses, oozing a lot of love with every inch of its movement, easing you into the mood. One hand on your hip, the other behind your head, holding you in place. You feel the wall behind you, fully. Your head was protected by his hand so it won’t drill against the concrete while he spills verses of love through his elaborated kisses.

You broke the kiss and he pants, with a boyish grin on his face, “…What pride?” He eyed you up and down, eating you up. He thumbed your lips, lovingly, as if he was trying to memorise how it felt and tasted like. “I think you still want me.” Yoongi tips his eyes up, and instead of lust, he was looking at you with much care. In contrast of how he initiated the kiss. Maybe it was the spur of the moment. But those eyes that are looking at you right now, is the eyes of the Yoongi you left by the small pond of your home town, many years ago. And he is back, with the same desire, slightly older but is heavily prepared to regain what he’s lost. “Are you sure it’s me you want?” Your voice sounded embarrassingly croaky with want, and you prayed he didn’t notice that. He linked his forehead to yours, “…Fuck yeah.”

And the morning can come, and Yoongi would still want you. Let all the mornings come, for all he wants, is you.

Mother got the daughter in law she wanted. And Yoongi came back to you. Isn’t that what soulmates are? That no matter how far apart you drifted, you’ll always come back to the place you believed is home. “I don’t hate autumn as much now.” Yoongi stated, playing with your fourth finger, twisting the ring. “You hated it before?” You looked up at his jaw, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Absolutely despise it.”

[365-money-diary]

DAYS 15-21

DAY FIFTEEN [JAN 15]

8:40 AM - Wake up feeling sore AF. I should’ve stretched after playing, but I obviously didn’t. I also feel like my stomach didn’t eat itself from the inside out while I was sleeping so that’s nice too. Make a chemex and get to work.

10:00 AM - eat plant yogurt.

11:00 AM - eat a few carrots and a clementine.

12:30 PM - make a greek salad for lunch with a La Croix - this is the last of the salad ingredients until Thursday essentially. Shed a singular tear.

3:00 PM - I am a tiny bit hungry. Eat a piece of rye toast.

4:14 PM - I wanted to start working out 45 minutes ago ugh. OK here we go. The hour goes by a lot faster than I expected which is nice. Rinse off and cook an early dinner – Reubens and potatoes.

8:00 PM - I wanted to drink alcohol but I’m too full from dinner to even enjoy it. Heat up chamomile tea instead. I want to work on my blog but K wants to hang instead and I’m in no position to deny the closeness. We play some Mario Kart, watch 30 for 30 about BC and the mob, and turn in early.

DAY FIFTEEN TOTAL: $0

DAY SIXTEEN

8:30 AM - Make chemex and eat a clementine. My sister (S) asked me and my brother (B) to listen to a 20 minute session on the app Mined about codependency. I take a stab at it and get some good notes. 

10:00 AM - Landscaper is going to show up any second so I move my car and pick up dog poop. Text with S more about my cousin’s virtual baby shower tomorrow and go in on some cute stuff from PBKids. Total is $64.05 and she venmos me $32. $32.05

11:15 AM - I actually have a lot of stuff I need to do this weekend though right now I’m too annoyed at my neighbor to focus. Long story short – he has been wanting our dead grapefruit tree for like 6 months and keeps asking if he can cut it down. I said sure. But then he asked our landscaper to do it for him? It’s weird. I mostly don’t care because it’s gone, but the nerve he had to insert himself is wild. $120

12:00 PM - Make Tofu tacos for breakfast and make a to-do list of stuff I want to accomplish today. (post cauliflower leek soup, put away records, barre throw away things my mom has forced me to take out of her house over the years, wipe doors)

6:00 PM - Eat 2 rice cakes. I only manage to get the cauliflower leek soup up, put away the records, and throw away the stuff mom gave me. I think today ended up being a little bit overwhelming emotionally with the landscaper plus the codependency session so I’m kind of burnt. 

7:00 PM - Make pad thai for dinner. Can’t stop snacking on Swedish fish. Drink an old fashioned while K and I watch Night Stalker. Realize part way through that the reason I keep eating Swedish Fish is because something feels off. I fall asleep around 11:30 knowing it’s my blood pressure and that if it doesn’t fix over night I’ll get right to it in the morning.

DAY SIXTEEN TOTAL: $152.35

DAY SEVENTEEN

8:00 AM - Wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh. I’ve been struggling with an iron deficiency for a while and have it mostly fixed but I still have occasional days where my blood pressure really gives me issues. 

9:00 AM - Peel myself out of bed and drink some soy sauce. Sounds disgusting but sodium is the only thing that truly helps AND it works fast. Drink a chemex and a boat load of water. Work on posting the cauliflower leek soup

10:00 AM - S calls and I take a walk to chat. I’m still feeling really down from the blood pressure but I know walking will help. It’s actually really nice to get outside. I should do this again later tonight.

11:00 AM - More soy sauce, more water, more coffee. Have a good direction for where I want to go today. Just taking it one task at a time based on how I feel and granting myself the grace.

12:30 PM - Feel good enough to start moving which is great because once I can get over the initial fog with this blood pressure stuff, moving is what keeps me feeling better. Wipe down the doors and then attend a virtual baby shower for my cousin E. 

3:00 PM - Make broccoli fried rice for lunch. I prefer the cauliflower but the store was out of it. I feel like this broccoli stuff would taste great with some kind of cilantro hummus situation but that’ll be for another day I suppose.

3:30 PM - Back to cleaning! The bathrooms are always terrible and today is no exception. It’s always hard to tell if I even make progress because everything is white and the grout is stained orange. Give up after an hour and a half.

6:30 PM - Tag team folding a couple loads of laundry with K while we watch NBA. This week ends bittersweet for my fantasy team. He beat me in one but I’m in first place in the other. Officially 3-1 and 4-0.

8:00 PM - Eat leftover pad thai for dinner.

DAY SEVENTEEN TOTAL: $0

DAY EIGHTEEN

8:30 AM - Wake up feeling like I was hit by a smartcar, so a little better! Today is MLK day and I’m grateful for the extra day off. Make a Chemex, drink some soy sauce, and watch an episode of The Challenge. Pure barre charge comes thru. $15

9:30 AM - Get started on dusting the entire house. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve done this due to lack of Swiffer 360 dusters. It takes forever but honestly our house hasn’t looked this good in years. Swap out the lightbulbs in the bathrooms and the bedroom, shower, and eat a plant yogurt.

11:30 AM - Have a sibling zoom call with S&B I walk while we chat and it’s honestly really nice to get outside. 

1:30 PM - Start shooting my recipe for lasagna rollups. Eat a cup of cauliflower leek soup and a few pretzel rods while I cook. It takes a while but I think they turn out great.

4:00 PM - Eat a lasagna roll and watch an episode of The Challenge. I haven’t worked out in 400 years (read: yesterday and the day before.) and it’s low key killing me, so I suit up and do the thing.

6:00 PM - That was mildly painful. Low cal burn, couldn’t focus to save my life - new moves so lots of pausing during transitions. Oh well. At least I did it.

7:00 PM - Eat two more lasagna rolls for dinner. K and I watch Terrorism Close Calls and I drink a vodka + vanilla seltzer + orange peel.

DAY EIGHTEEN TOTAL: $15

DAY NINETEEN

8:30 AM - It’s appraisal day. Ugh. So excited to get this over with. Make a chemex and open my work stuff. I have a lot to do but have a feeling I won’t be able to concentrate very well until after the appraisal is over. On a nice note - I am feeling leaps and bounds better from yesterday and the day before. 

10:00 AM - Eat a plant yogurt and finish out the rest of my coffee. Meet with my teammates about an outstanding task and then do the random stuff around the house to prep for my appointment.

12:00 PM - Here goes nothing! K and I leave the house with KP and walk her around the block a few times until the appraisal is done. As much as I feel like my anxiety should be gone, it’s not. I think particularly because today is really busy with work. K and I hang out outside on our laptops for a bit to let the house air out before going back inside.

1:00 PM - Eat broccoli fried rice for lunch with a Polar seltzer. Snack on a pretzel rod and some Swedish Fish while it heats.

3:00 PM - Eat the last of the cauliflower leek soup and a few carrots.

5:30 PM - Make a nuun and do a barre live stream. My focus today is so much better but my cal burn is abysmal again. Rinse off and heat up lasagna rolls for dinner. Snack on Swedish Fish while they heat. I really wish I had wine right now because I can feel my body could use the extra help blood pressure-wise but I won’t get my alcohol delivery until Thursday. Sigh.

8:00 PM - Idk whats up but my body is asking for more food so I eat tortilla crumbs and salsa and some dark chocolate. Make vegan ham brine for seitan. Realize I’m out of liquid smoke and buy a 6 pack from Amazon. $15.37

9:30 PM - It’s official, this iron thing is killing me. Ugh. Now I know. I’ll be more conscientious of my supplements, I promise! Finish editing photos of Thousand Island Dressing, watch The Challenge and call it a day.

DAY NINETEEN TOTAL: $15.37

DAY TWENTY

8:30 AM - Still feeling off from iron. This is seriously the worst it’s been in MONTHS. Worst part - it takes 4 weeks for you to produce new blood cells so I can only assume this will happen again since there was a substantial gap in my supplementing.

9:00 AM - Make a chemex, prep the seitan ham dough and bake. I chat with Google support for an account I’m having problems with. The person’s name is Swastika. Feels like a bad omen for inauguration day. Eat 2 clementines and pretzel rod.

12:20 PM - Starving. Decide on Lasagna roll ups for lunch with a Polar. 

2:00 PM - Finish my work for the day. I have on my list of things to do that I want to test this orange spice bread for the blog.

3:00 PM - Spice bread in the oven. Do a round of dishes to prep for tonight’s grocery run. It doesn’t come out great and I eat two slices.

5:15 PM - Do a barre live stream and it goes really well. Super focused, super strong, super sweaty. One more class to go for the challenge this month! Rinse off and continue prepping the kitchen and do the final bake on the ham. 

7:05 PM - Ensue grocery madness. Incoming of onions, bananas, lemons, limes, bell peppers, cucumbers, cheese, cheeze, tortilla chips, tomatoes, dark chocolate, green beans, broccoli, jalapeños, low carb tortillas, bread, oranges, potatoes, cilantro, chickpeas, romaine, celery, clementines, spring mix, frozen burritos, apples, oat milk, tofu, soyrizo, brussels sprouts, eggs, grapes, frozen peas, vegan sour cream, taco seasoning, tomato paste, chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, corn, black beans, avocados, mushrooms, snap peas, pineapple, vegan mayo, carrots, rice noodles, seltzer, beets, cauliflower, parsley, pumpkin seeds, thyme, plant yogurt, garlic, riced broccoli, white rice, gf pretzels, micro arugula, & black olives. $327.69

8:15 PM It takes over an hour, but everything is washed and put away! Make air fried broccoli with miso butter and veggie sandwiches for dinner. 

9:00 PM - Make a crappy drink with flavored vodka. The only thing I have in my house is shooters left over from my sister’s bachelorette party. She’s now divorced if that gives you any idea of how long this stuff has been sitting around. More alcohol comes tomorrow at least! Eat a few Swedish fish.

9:30 PM - Play Mario Kart, watch The Challenge, and call it a night.

DAY TWENTY TOTAL: $327.69

DAY TWENTY-ONE

8:30 AM - Chemex and work. Alcohol is coming sometime this AM from my friend J who has a wholesale hookup. Much like everything else in the pandemic, I just buy in bulk. It’s easier that way!

10:30 AM - Eat a slice of orange spice bread for breakfast. It’s definitely growing on me but I think I need to adjust a few things before shooting/posting. J drops off my booze order. I got 2 crates of wine (24 bottles total), a bottle of bourbon, rye, mezcal, rum, and st. germaine. She says it was $400 but I pay her more. $450

11:00 AM - Start prepping chile de arbol salsa & stuff for this week’s salad - spring mix, roasted tofu with taco seasoning, avo, chipotle ranch dressing, cilantro, green onion, black beans, tomatoes and corn. YUM. Eat salad with a La Croix. 

3:00 PM - I get the appraisal back! My house came in at $390k. (I bought it for $245k) OMG! Eat a celebratory slice of orange bread.

6:45 PM - Finish class 15/15 for the barre challenge. 11 more months to go. hah! Rinse off, roast potatoes for veggie sandwiches. Pour a celebratory glass of wine. 

8:30 PM - Pour another half glass. What a week! End up going on a walk with K & KP which was really nice. I need to get out more. This weekend I will. Stay tuned. ~*~*~

DAY TWENTY-ONE TOTAL: $450

[massholevegan-blog]

Vegan Pantry Starter Pack

When I first went vegan, I was seriously overwhelmed by all of the seemingly “weird” ingredients recipes called for. As a South Shore girl raised almost exclusively on fluffernutter sandwiches, Hamburger Helper, and Hood ice cream, I had no idea what the hell nutritional yeast was, or even that grocery stores even sold rice that didn’t come in a 99¢ Knorr’s packet.

And then once I finally had all of these fancy new ingredients and brought them to the cashier, my jaw dropped. Why was everything so expensive? Isn’t vegan food supposed to be cheaper?!

What I didn’t know is that I would never experience that kind of sticker shock again. See, once you jump over the hurdle of buying all of these “weird” plant-based pantry staples for the first time, it’ll be weeks, months, or even years until you have to buy them again. 

I’ve divided some of the most popular vegan pantry staples into three lists depending on how often I purchase them. As you can see, I only purchase the more expensive items once every 3-4 months, as most whole-foods vegan recipes only require small amounts of them. So keep those savings in mind when experiencing sticker-shock on your $8.99 bag of raw cashews -- yes, that may seem like a lot of money upfront, but that bag should last several months. Think about it -- you wouldn’t even think twice about buying a pack of chicken breasts (by the way, a decaying animal corpse is much, much “weirder” than a bag of nuts) for the same price, and those would only last a meal or two!

*NOTE: I didn’t add prices because those can vary from store to store. Also, if you want to buy organic, that will also raise prices. Do whatever’s best for your budget. Also, the estimates below are for a household with only two adults and no (human) children.

PURCHASE ONCE PER YEAR

All Vinegars: Red, White, Rice, Apple Cider, etc.

I buy vinegar in bulk and use only a few tablespoons per month.

Liquid Smoke

If you’re someone who loves smoky, BBQ flavors, you may have to buy this more often, but a few drops go a long way, so a small bottle will last awhile!

Molasses

I really only use molasses for baking or occasionally making a sweet teriyaki sauce, and even then, most recipes only call for a teaspoon or two.

Hot Sauce

Buy Frank’s Red Hot (or similar) in bulk for best results. Very shelf-stable!

Baking Soda

All brands are identical - buy the cheapest in bulk!

Baking Powder

Same goes for baking powder - all brand are identical so go hard in bulk.

Salt and Pepper

I use plain old iodized table salt and black peppercorns, so I buy the store brand in bulk, but if you’re into fancy salts (Celtic, pink, coarse, etc.), you may have to buy it more often and at a higher price.

Uncommon Spices: Nutmeg, Garam Masala, Lemon Pepper, Dill, Celery Seed, etc.

Everyone has spices they use far less often than the others, or in very small amounts. For these “rarely used” seasonings, you should only have to purchase them once a year if you play your cards right.

Dry Beans: Chickpeas, Black Beans, Navy Beans, Pinto Beans, etc.

A giant bulk bag will last you the entire year... unless you’re going hard with your Instant Pot. In that case, buy more often. But if you alternate between using dried and canned beans, you should be good.

PURCHASE ONCE EVERY 3-4 MONTHS

Nutritional Yeast

Level 10 Vegans all have a “nooch” jar that can hold about 2 lbs. of the cheesy goodness that is nutritional yeast. If you fill this jar up every 3 months or so, you should be set.

Tahini

Unless you’re making large quantities of tahini sauce or homemade hummus every week, a medium-sized jar of tahini should last you 3-4 months at the absolute minimum. Ocean State Job Lot always has the best price on this - typically $3.99.

Soy Sauce or Tamari

A medium/large bottle of low-sodium soy sauce or tamari (or liquid aminos for my Level 20 Expert Mode Vegans out there) should last you for quite some time.

Bulk Rice (Brown, Jasmine, Basmati, etc.)

Buy in bulk if you have room to store it. If you have access to an Asian supermarket (H-Mart, what’s up?!), you’ll find some pretty amazing rice deals there.

Bulk Wheat Pasta (Whole Grain)

Never pay more than $1.29 for a box of regular wheat pasta, and if possible, hold off until the store is giving them away for 89¢/box (Stop & Shop does this often) and go hard.

Flour (Whole Wheat)

I highly recommend buying a large bag of Bob’s Red Mill Whole Wheat Pastry Flour from Market Basket. It’ll last.

Sugar (Unrefined: Pure Cane, Coconut, etc.)

As Mary Poppins used to sing, “a spoonful of unrefined sugar makes your oatmeal taste way better.”

Canned Beans

I buy 6 cans at a time when on sale: Black, Cannellini, Chickpeas, etc. That way, you have a stockpile to pull from.

Raw Nuts: Almonds, Cashews, Walnuts

Honestly, buying raw nuts sucks because they’re never inexpensive - even when on sale. But they’re so worth it, and you won’t use them that often, so don’t stress too much.

Common Spices: Garlic Powder, Onion Powder, Black Pepper, Cumin, Chili Powder, Sage, Rosemary, etc.

Just grab 2-3 $1 bottles of each at Ocean State Job Lot every 3-4 months.

Apple Sauce

I like to buy the prepackaged/sealed single-serve cups so that they don’t go bad; unsweetened, of course.

Fancy Grains and Healthy Nutritional Stuff

Farro, Israeli couscous, chickpea pasta, hemp hearts, chia seeds, soba noodles, flax seeds... all of that fun stuff you use rarely or in small amounts. Protip: Buy from Vitacost using eBates when they’re having a flash sale.

PURCHASE ONCE OR TWICE A MONTH

Tofu and Other “Proteins”

Never pay more than $2 per block. My local Asian grocery store, H-Mart, hooks me up with 99¢ blocks, so I buy five packages at a time, making my monthly tofu cost $5. Tempeh, seitan, and other fake meats are not really a part of my everyday diet, but if I see some on sale, I may grab 1-2 packages per month.

Frozen Vegetables: Peas, Stir Fry Medleys, Leeks, Greens, Broccoli, etc.

I never pay more than $1.59 for a bag of frozen vegetables, and I typically max out on 99¢ cent deals. Make sure to avoid frozen veggies that come in a “sauce” or are “pre-seasoned” - the only ingredient(s) listed should be the vegetable(s) itself - no salt, oil, or seasonings. Market Basket or Wegman’s are my go-to frozen veggie providers.

Frozen Fruit: Mango, Blueberries, Strawberries, Raspberries, etc.

This purchase becomes more frequent in the summer, as I crave cold smoothies more when it’s hot out. If you ever see a good deal that makes fresh fruit (or veggies) cheaper than their frozen counterparts, make sure to grab them and freeze them on your own!

Peanut Butter

Natural, no salt added - the only ingredient listed should be “Peanuts” or “Dry Roasted Peanuts.” Chunky or smooth - the choice is yours. Teddie’s or Trader Joe’s brand is always a safe bet.

Maple Syrup

100% pure - none of that high-fructose corn syrup garbage. Bonus points if it’s from Vermont to keep things local!

Dry Lentils: Red and Brown

ABBL: Always Be Buying Lentils. Just trust me. Cheapest, healthiest food on the planet. And so much iron!

Canned Tomatoes: Diced, Tomato Paste, Crushed, Sauce

When possible, buy the “No Salt Added” varieties. 

Condiments: Ketchup, BBQ Sauce, Mustard, or whatever you use most often.

PURCHASE WEEKLY

Plant-Based Milk: Almond, Coconut, Soy, etc.

As a family that eats oatmeal and/or smoothies almost every day, we buy approx. one gallon per week.

Oats

Whatever whole-grain oats suit your fancy: rolled/old fashioned, quick, steel-cut, etc. Just make sure the only ingredient is oats: no added salt, sugar, or other random chemicals. We buy our oats in bulk at Whole Foods.

Bananas

Buy in 3 stages of ripeness if possible: green (not even close to being ripe), yellow (the way omnivores like them), and just starting to spot (almost vegan-ready: make sure to wait until they’re very brown and spotty!).

Fresh Vegetables: Bell Peppers, Mushrooms, Carrots, Celery, Greens, and whatever else you use most often.

Look out for sales or hit up the discount produce rack to try new veggies!)

Fresh Fruit: Apples, Oranges, Lemons, and whatever else you use most often.

Potatoes

A five lb. bag of potatoes should last you longer than a week, but I always at least pick up a few sweet potatoes during my weekly shopping trip.

Onions

Pick up a bag of white/yellow onions and maybe a red onion or two.

Garlic

And while you’re in that section, grab a head or two of bulk garlic.

[sheylafethurva]

The soup challenge

Diets, how many kinds do you know? How many have you tried? If so, how many challenges have you faced?

When it comes to diets, many, many questions come to our minds, but the reality is that that is not an absolute truth about it.

When choosing a diet, it is essential to think about some factors. What is your objective? What changes will you have to make in your routine? Can you keep those new eating habits?

I decided to adhere a diet called Soup Diet or Cabbage soup diet.

I heard about this diet years ago, back home, and recently I saw it again at a website I enjoy visiting from time to time - https://divascancook.com/

I decided then to give it a try.

It sounds challenging, and it is indeed.

This diet is very restrictive, but it claims to help you detox your system, also helping you to put some extra pounds off.

The challenge relies on the fact that you won't consume any gluten, eggs and added sugar.

The idea is not to change your eating habits, but give one week to your body to go enter on a cleansing mode.

The calorie ingestion is low, and the ingredients are restricted. You should eat cabbage soup every day, and well, it can be difficult.

I decided to give it a try and, as a chef, use my creativity to make this "sad" diet a little less boring.

The diet pattern is:

retrieved from:https://divascancook.com/wonder-soup-recipe-weight-loss-soup-7-day-diet-cabbage-soup/

As you can see, the diet plan is very straightforward. My goal was to follow it accordingly, changing some details to make the meals more pleasant and appealing.

To start this diet, the first step is to make the Cabbage soup, also called the wonder soup.

I took the recipe from https://divascancook.com/ 

Here it is:

Wonder Soup

Ingredients

1/2 head of Cabbage chopped

1 cup celery diced

1 cup white or yellow onion diced

1 cup carrots diced

1 green bell pepper diced

2-3 cloves garlic minced

4 cups chicken broth

14 oz can basil oregano, garlic diced tomatoes

1 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon basil

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

few shakes of black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt optional

Instructions

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pot over medium heat.

Add celery, onions, bell peppers, and carrots.

Saute until slightly tender.

Stir in garlic and cook until fragrant.

Pour in chicken broth.

Stir in tomatoes and Cabbage.

Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to a simmer.

Cook until Cabbage is tender.

Stir in oregano, basil, red pepper flakes, black pepper and salt (if using)

Taste broth and adjust seasoning if needed.

Serve and enjoy!

For my soup, I made some small but relevant modifications.

Starting by the cabbage, the star of the dish.

I decided to roast it with curry powder, cumin and smoked paprika. The intention os to add complexity and depth of flavour to a soup that would be my lunch and dinner for the next week

It worked very well. The Cabbage came out of the oven, releasing a smoky and delicious aroma, that aggregated a great flavour to the soup.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

I also added cremini and king oyster mushrooms in order to add texture and umami flavour.

Once you have your soup ready, i’s time to start.

 Below is the resume of my first three days:

Day 1

During this day, we are supposed to have only fruits (except bananas) and soup.

I didn't include any prohibited ingredients, just changed the way they were presented.

Breakfast

I started my day with warmed apples and pears, seasoned with cinnamon and nutmeg.  

The fruit's warm temperature, soft texture, and spicy fragrance made this meal much more pleasant and comforting.

I also had a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Lunch

For lunch I had a big bowl of soup.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Snack

My snack was a big bowl of fruit salad and topped with sugar-free rustic red berries  coulis.

The fruits I chose were:

Cantaloupe, orange, fresh strawberries and blueberries.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

The sugar-free coulis is very easy to make and can work very well with yogurt, cakes, ice cream.

Here is the recipe:

Sugar- free red berries coulis 

1 cup of frozen red berries ( cherries, strawberries, raspberries and blueberries)

3 tbsps powdered stevia/erythritol

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1 pinch of salt

Method

- In a pot add the powdered stevia/ erithritol and melt it in medium heat

- Once they are melted, add the fruits, vanilla and salt

-Let them cook for about 20 minutes in low heat

- If you want it to be rustic, let them cool down and use it as you please

- If you want it more fluid and smoothe, blend it once it is coll and strain it.

- Keep it in the fridge for 5-7 days.

Dinner

For dinner I had another big bowl of soup (same as lunch) and a bowl of mangoes with mint.Very simple but delicious and fresh.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Day 2

Breakfast

Day two is supposed to start with a baked potato. I decided to make a potato patty instead. I didn't add any cheese or other ingredients because it would modify a lot, however, it made my breakfast a bit fancier.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

For the potato patties here is the recipe:

 Ingredients:

1 boiled potato

Half onion

Half red bell pepper

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Method:

Start by boiled the potato until it is very soft

Sweat the onions and red bell pepper with a little olive oil. salt and pepper.

Once the potato is soft, smash it with a fork until it becomes a puree.

Add the onions and red bell pepper and season it with salt and pepper.

Use your hand to shape the potato mixture into small patties. The size is up to you.

On a pan, drizzle some olive oil and brown the patties in both sides. About 5 minutes, 2.5 minutes each side.

Lunch

For lunch I had a big bowl of soup

Snack

 Carrot chips.

I just sliced them really thin, put a  bit of salt and baked for 30 min (200 F).

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Dinner

Since it was the vegetable day, I had a big bowl of soup and I made a coulifower “rice”, together with baked heart of palms, arparagus and a tomato, mango and mint salad.

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

The couliflower “rice is a very good low-carb option for a light and guity free meal.

Here is the recipe:

Couliflowe “rice”

1 couliflower

1tbsp olive oil

2 cloves garlic

1/2 onion

1/2 yellow bell pepper

Smoked paprika

Lemon juice

1 1/2 cup chicken stock

Parsley

Salt and pepper to taste

Method:

Clean the couliflower and process it in a food processor or blender. The idea is to minced it so it looks like rice grains.

Cut the onions and yellow bell pepper bruinoise

Chop the parsley

In a pot drizzle the olive oil

Sweat the onion and add the garlic

Add the yellow bell pepper and cook it for about 2 min

Add the cauliflower and blend all the ingredients well and season them with salt and papper

Add the paprika and lemon juice, mix well

Pour the chicken stock and let it be all absorbed by the “rice”.

When there’s no more liquid, your couliflower rice is ready.

Garnish it with parsley and enjoy.

Day 3

Breakfast

A bowl of apples with a whey protein sauce and cinnamom.

I cheated a bit with this whey protein sauce, but I was missing some kind of protein.

It is a good way to complement your fruit salad or cut fruit of your preference. You just need blend together 1 scoop of whey vanilla whey protein, and 1/2 scoop of water. Mix them together and use it as a sauce.

    Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Lunch

For lunch I had a big bowl of soup.

Dinner

For dinner I had a big bowl of soup and salad. My salad had mangoes and raspberries, since it was the veggie/ fruit day

Silva, S.(photographer). Downtown, Toronto, ON.

Day 4, 5, 6 and 7 I followed the guide without any alterations. I wanted to see how challenging it would be.

My Experience

This was a tough week.

Although I love soup, fruits, vegetables and chicken, this diet is to restrict for me to say that I liked it.

The first day was really good, actually, because I felt lighter, and I really didn’t feel hungry or anything.

The second day was harder but manageable.

From the 3 day on, I felt much hungrier than usual and craving for something more substantial.

What I realized is that those strict diets shouldn’t last long.

If you want to lose some weight fast for a special occasion or feel the need to do a detox, go for it. But now, more than ever, I realize the importance of balance.

Having the same soup for lunch and dinner for 7 days is not ideal.

Balance is everything, and it needs to be the guide for any diet we want to try.

Advice

My advice for the ones who want to try the soup diet is: increment your fruits/ veggies.

Try different cooking methods, pay attention to the presentation and vary them as much as you can.

Since you are eating mostly fruits and veggies for 7 days, try to incorporate different flavours, textures and temperatures. It is really important if you want to keep on track.

Also, don’t follow this diet for more than 7 days.

After one week, try no to eat super heavy meals. Reincorporate grains, dairy and proteins gradually.

You will lose some weight, so keep eating healthy if you want to keep the results.

Don’t forget to drink lots of water.

I don’t recommend this diet to people who do lots of exercises or the ones who have a stressful routine; the reduced amount of calories ingested can be insufficient for this kind of people, leading them to feel super tired, so their performance can be affected.

Would I continue with my choice?

Since this diet is not supposed to be followed as a lifestyle, I definitely wouldn’t keep following it.

However, whenever I feel I need a little detox, I may recur to it again.

More than ever, I see the importance of good food in our lives. Eating well, with pleasure, it’s groundbreaking.

I’m sure I am in the right industry because providing people with good food is really special.

[nabilamowla]

Life as a Lacto-Vegetarian!7 days Challenge.

I always find vegetables are the hardest to work with. Not everyone can make vegetables tasty; and it requires a lot of love and techniques to create a perfect vegetarian/vegan dish. I chose to follow a Lacto-Vegetarian diet for a week. I chose to become a vegetarian with the access to few dairy products. I only had milk, yogurt and cheese during my diet and I made myself limited to those dairy products only, no Eggs!

Allergen:

I have avoided wheat (chosen allergen) based ingredients during my diet and created my weekly meal avoiding it. I preferred having oats and rice instead of bread, Paratha. I used chickpea flour instead of regular flour to make my fried snacks.

As a lacto-vegetarian for a week, I had a hard time to create my meal plans. It was challenging at first but then I got many ideas from different sources to create few dishes to keep me going for the week. I Honestly did not focus on too much healthy eating, I was mainly focusing to not eat foods that I am not allowed to.

Example of a typical daily menu:

I started my day-1 with a Brunch (I was doing intermittent fasting during my diet): I had my first meal around 12:30 pm.

For Brunch, I had tomato and grilled bell pepper soup with a savoury oatmeal pancake, also with a mixed fruit salad.

I had fried onion bhaji battered in chickpea flour with hot sauces as evening snack. In between my main meals, I had different kinds of nuts, apples and milk tea. I had also a tangy tamarind beverage during my evening snack. 

I had cumin Rice with kidney bean curry also with avocados for my dinner. After my dinner, I indulged myself with cottage cheese and honey. Also, a cup of milk tea was my favourite thing during this diet.

Lacto-Vegan recipe:

I was craving to have few fried foods during my diet. I thought to create a fried vegetables and Paneer dish with a spicy and tangy flavor profile. My dish consists of 4 elements:

Roasted mixed potatoes: I boiled the potatoes in salt water. After boiling I crushed them and sprinkled roasted dry red chili and kosher salt blend. I also sprinkled few cumin seeds and mix it with olive oil. I then put it for roasting in the oven until the outer skin became crispy.

Shallow oil fried Eggplant: In a fried pan, I infused the oil with garlic slices. I added the eggplants to the pan and shallow fried it until brown.

Yogurt Sauce:I added fried garlic pieces into the yogurt.  Added Lemon, cilantro, salt and pepper to the mixture. Whisk it to the sauce consistency.

Fried Paneer:After cutting the Paneer block into small cubes I marinated with chat masala, garam masala, salt and red chili powder. Then I fried them into shallow oil until golden brown in color.

Finally, in a plate I assemble all the elements and garnished with mint leaves and lemon.

At the end of the week, I did not see much difference on my weight. My food choices were not very healthy though I was following a vegetarian diet. During the diet, I always craved for different kinds of foods and felt severe hunger in between my main meals. Mentally, I felt I am missing out on foods I usually have. I had a feeling of self-deprivation few times. On the brighter side, I felt lighter and very motivated to create innovative vegetarian dishes. My mind was always thinking about creating dishes that will compensate for my animal protein cravings. I also studied about plant based ingredients and their nutrients and tried to create dishes with proper nutrition values. Most importantly I learnt to respect vegan people for controlling their appetite and their strict food values for our food system.

I think If I want to continue my Lacto-Vegetarian diet, I need to be more educated of different kinds of plant based food ingredients. I realized, reading about vegan diets and dishes helped me a lot to think beyond the stereotypical vegan dishes. It is very important to gather information and knowledge regarding plant based food ingredients and their nutritional value to successfully maintain this diet. If I ever become a vegan chef I would talk to my guests and consider their opinions to improve my dishes.

I think I will continue to be lacto-vegetarian for 4 days a week and rest of the 3 days I would follow my normal food routine. The reason behind this decision will help me to read more about plant based food ingredients and it would motivate me to be up to date with recent culinary developments.. The future culinary world is all about vegetarian and vegan dishes because we are now seeking for more sustainable food ingredients than ever before. I think it will also help me to become a better chef to be able to serve tasty and flavourful dishes to my vegan/vegetarian guests.

7 days Food log as Lacto vegan:

DAY-1

Brunch:

Soup,

Oat Pancake,

Salad,

Tea

DAY-2

Brunch:

Oat Pancake,

Beans,

Pineapple,

Tea

DAY-3

Brunch:

Rice,

Red lentil,

Bitter melon stir-fry

DAY-4

Brunch:

Rice with mixed lentil stew with tomatoes. Tea

Day-5

Brunch:

Rice with Chili Paneer, Tea

Day-6

Brunch:

Sautéed Mushroom, Pancakes, Tea

Day-7

Brunch:

Grilled tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms,

Pancake

DAY-1

Evening:

Onion bhaji,

Tamarind beverage,

Tea

DAY-2

Evening:

Mango, honeydew, yogurt smoothie, Sautéed mushrooms.

DAY-3

Evening:

Smoothie,

Cottage cheese with Honey.

DAY-4

Evening:

Tea, Mixed Green salad with orange and tomatoes and grilled tofu.

DAY-5

Evening:

Tea, Fruit salad.

DAY-6

Evening:

Smoothie,

Banana,

Mixed green salad

DAY-7

Evening:

Broccoli and mushroom soup and mixed fruit Salad. Tea

DAY-1

Snacks:

Nuts, Tea, Apple

DAY-2

Snacks:

Tea, potato chips, nuts

DAY-3

Snacks:

Tea, Mash potatoes.

DAY-4

Snacks:

Tea, Potato chips, nuts

DAY-5

Snacks:

Tea, nuts

DAY-6

Snacks:

Tea, Potato chips.

DAY-7

Snacks:

Tea

DAY-1

Dinner:

Rice

Beans

Avocado

Cheese

Tea

DAY-2

Dinner:

Rice

Red lentil,

Okra sautéed

DAY-3

Dinner:

Vegetable stir fry with tofu and white rice, Tea

DAY-4

Dinner:

Chili Paneer, White rice, Tea.

DAY-5

Dinner:

Fried vegetables and roast potatoes. Tea

DAY-6

Dinner:

Bok choi Stir fry with white rice and Tea

DAY-7

Dinner:

Rice with mixed lentil stew, Tea.

[suzannaandjameshardy]

A Party Hardy Wedding

Inching closer to the one year mark so I thought I'd grace my Tumblr's presence with snapshots of our big day. 

11/19/16. Who knew that would now be my favorite day of the year. Most days you wake up knowing exactly how each second will more or less pan out. I'm that odd mixture of an organized person with unsystematic attributes. Everything is on my calendar, but sometimes it gets lost in translation.This day, 11/19/16, was most definitely planned. To the T. Not a single detail or minute was overlooked. But somehow... it was like the agenda was thrown out the window. We were so engulfed in this overwhelming amount of love that it felt like we were going to explode into a million pieces across the dance floor. What itinerary? We just floated from one room to the next. It sounds cheesy because it was. It was us. I had this reoccurring scene in my head... that I'd fall down the aisle or my dad would show up late. The ceremony turned out to be our favorite moment of the wedding. We just could not. stop. smiling. Our officiant calls my name. I don't think I looked at him once. "Repeat after me, with this ring I thee wed. Take it and wear it as a pledge of my love and as a symbol of all we shall share." At this point I'm staring into James's soul and the outside world is merely a blurred image and the only sounds are a collective blurb of white noise. My face is in this permanent ridiculous smile and somehow words began to form,"With this ring I thee wed... wait what was it?" Everyone laughs. I manage to finish my vows and we kiss a cold November kiss. (snaps of me butchering the vows below)

It was a chilly Saturday. Believe it or not, November in Texas can be unusually hot. 11/19/16 however, was not one of those normal humid Saturdays. So much so that we rented tall heat lamps for guests. It was nice and cozy and our hors d'oeuvres kept us warm. I wanted our menu to reflect my background. Specifically the large majority of guests ~aka~ mi familia who happen to be Mexican American with an obsession for good food. We started the night with poblano and mushroom empanaditas with avocado aioli, chicken bites wrapped in bacon and stuffed with a jalapeno, oyster nacho on a yucca chip with guacamole chipotle aioli and micro pico de gallo. That’s a mouthful, huh? Signature cocktail, pomegranate margarita. 

Family and friends start making there way to the the chapel inside the Southwest School of Arts. I danced a slow rendition of Sweet Child of Mine with my father. He was a mess. Just looked like he was about to cry any second. He's a proud Mexican father. He's known around town as the guy to not screw around with. So watching him a bit vulnerable was well... pretty awesome. He can be so hard to handle sometimes. We are alike in many ways. One of which our taste in music, hence our oh-so-classy father-daughter dance.

James and I danced Emmylou by First Aid Kit. We knew the first time we heard the song as it randomly popped up that that was the song. We created our own playlist for the wedding and well... it was bomb AF. Hehe. No really, we are proud of our playlist. An interesting mix of Los Growlers, Father John Misty to Band of Horses, to Tupac and 90's rap, then back to Rilo Kiley and then some Elton John. And of course a good portion of Tejano and Selena to get the party going. It was so random, but probably the best playlist I've ever heard in my life because it reminded us of all our adventures. (a pretty giddy first dance below)

We had a seated dinner that consisted of wild field greens with roasted red and yellow bell peppers, corn, black beans, queso fresco, purple onion, salted pepitos, crispy red tortilla strips and cilantro lime vinaigrette. Instead of bread, we opted for a traditional warm masa cake with a chili lime butter rosette. The main entree was a ridiculously yummy beef tenderloin filet with cherry guava sauce, a trio of jumbo shrimp sauteed and topped with tequila (duh) lime cream sauce, in a shell with a lime, white cheddar, cilantro and green chile mashed potatoes, and seasonal grilled vegetables. Dessert.. dessert... Oh how I miss our dessert table. Traditional Mexican lady fingers and pan de polvo baked by a family friend in my hometown. We are pretty picky about our pan de polvo and hers are the best. Our wedding cake was made by Bird Bakery, owned by Armie Hammers wife, Elizabeth Chambers. She is native to San Antonio and opened this adorable bakery in Alamo Heights. Our cake was a smooth vanilla buttercream, no crazy decor or flavors. It was so rich and moist. Bird also baked Mexican brownies for guests with hints of cinnamon and spices. Last but not least...apple pies in mason jars (also by Bird). James was adamant that he did not want a grooms cake. He's been obsessed with apple pies since the day we met. The mix between traditional Mexican goodies and apple pies in mason jars was unintentionally symbolic of our merging of cultures & it gave us all the feels. 

We ended the night with all of our friends lined parallel with each other holding hand painted maracas from Mexico (also a wedding gift). We ran through the crowd and jumped into our getaway car and took one big deep breath. We just laughed. Still in awe of what just happened. After a few drinks with some of our close friends, we called it a night. The next morning we hopped on a plane to Olympic National Park where we stayed in a cozy little cabin next to lake surrounded by mountains. BUT that's for another post. ;) 

What people don't realize is that we have a lot of days like this. We are annoying, I’ll admit it. I used to hate those ridiculous couples that were so in love. I used to think, "what are they trying to prove" & "no one cares, please don’t send me a Christmas card." But here we are, obsessed. A good obsessed. When we first started dating, I'd argue it was more of a jealous obsessed, but man does time help evolve you. I'd like to think one of the best gifts in this world is allowing, watching, and seeing each other grow & I’m blessed that we do that for one another. We are not perfect, but we are one hell of a team. 

Okay, less typing, more pictures.

@brides @theknot @liancarlodesign

[greytulip5-blog]

Moo Shu Pork Tacos with Pineapple Salsa

Have I ever told you the story of how Hello Fresh turned my husband into a cook?

Well, I’m not sure he’d describe himself as a cook but he, the man who could barely boil water two years ago, now cooks so, umm, yea… he’s a cook.

See, when I went back to a traditional 9-5 after working for myself for years, we had a little talk. There was no way I was going to get home after 5 p.m. every night and still get dinner on the table in time. He needed to step up and get over his fear (or rather inexperience) of cooking. So we decided to try one of those boxed dinner plans that come with all the ingredients and recipes. We tried a few (Hello Fresh was our first and ended up being our favorite), and I watched his confidence in the kitchen grow over the course of a few months. It was amazing, inspiring even. He went from zero interest in cooking to helping meal plan and even picking recipes out of books to prepare.

I never thought I’d see the day. We don’t use the boxed plans anymore because they got a little expensive and monotonous, but I will forever be thankful to them for teaching The Husband how to cook.

Okay, you may be wondering why the long intro for these tacos. Well, these tacos are my spin on one of our favorite Hello Fresh meals, Moo Shu Pork Tacos. I added the pineapple salsa and changed a few of the ingredients to use what I could find in the grocery store.

The 13-Year-Old requests these tacos every few weeks and I’m thrilled to oblige. The Husband is a fan, and I could eat this type of meal daily. It’s fresh, loaded with vegetables, and just downright delicious.

As usual, it’s the 7-Year-Old who could take or leave it. He’ll humor me by putting a bit of the meat on a shell with some shredded cheese, but that’s about it. The pineapple salsa is a no-go since the kid pretty much hates fruit and there’s no way he’s adding any kind of sauce to anything.

Sigh.

I’m still holding out hope that one day he’ll join us in our love of good food. I mean look at these things!

Hey, if The Husband can start cooking anything is possible.

Prep 15 mins

Cook 20 mins

Total 35 mins

Author Roni Noone

Yield 4 servings

Mix up Taco night with these pork and cabbage tacos. They are fresh, tasty and chock-full of veggies!

Ingredients

Pineapple Salsa 

1 cup pineapple diced (~200g)

1 bell pepper diced (red is my fav when we have them)

1/2 minced red onion

handful of fresh cilantro (7g)

juice of 1 lime 

pinch of salt

Pork and Veggie filling

1 lb ground pork

1 tbsp ground ginger

2 tsp garlic powder

5 Scallions

8 oz shredded red cabbage (around 1/2 head)

8 oz baby portobello mushrooms finely chopped  

2 tbsp Soy Sauce

Hoison Drizzle 

1 tbsp Hoisin Sauce 

1 tbsp non-frat greek yogurt 

~2 tsp water

Instructions

Prepare the pineapple salsa by mixing all the ingredients in a small bowl. Place in the fridge to chill and give the flavors time to merge.

Slice the scallions, separating the green and white parts. Set aside.

Shred the cabbage if needed and chop up the mushrooms small. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high and begin to brown the pork with the scallion whites, ginger and garlic. Once the meat is broken up, add the mushrooms and cabbage with a pinch of salt and pepper. Continue to cook, tossing and mixing everything up until the meat browns totally and the moisture comes out of the veggies reducing in size about half, about 10-15 minutes.

While the meat and veggies are cooking, make the hoisin drizzle by combining yogurt and hoisin sauce until smooth. Add a tsp of water at a time until it reaches the desired consistency.

Stir soy sauce into the pork and cook for about 5 minutes or so allowing the moister to evaporate. Serve on your favorite tortillas (I like corn, the boys like flour) by adding the pork mixture and topping it with the pineapple salsa, hoisin drizzle, the green tops of the scallions and a squirt of lime juice.

Enjoy!

Notes

We usually get about ten tacos out of this at least, but it really depends on the size of your tortillas. I split the meat into quarters and just top accordingly. Since the 7-Year-Old isn't the biggest fan, I sometimes get a bowl of the leftovers for lunch the next day.

If you don't have red onion, you can mix the green scallion tops in the salsa, and it works just as well. I've done this a few times in a pinch.

The nutritional information is for 1/4 of the recipe. It does not include the tortillas. 

Nutrition Facts

Amount Per Serving

Calories 368

% Daily Value

Total Fat 21 g

32%

Total Carbohydrates 24 g

8%

Dietary Fiber 5 g

20%

Sugars 12 g

Protein 24 g

48%

* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.

0

Related

Source: http://greenlitebites.com/2018/09/05/moo-shu-pork-tacos-with-pineapple-salsa/

[tentbat8-blog]

Moo Shu Pork Tacos with Pineapple Salsa

Have I ever told you the story of how Hello Fresh turned my husband into a cook?

Well, I’m not sure he’d describe himself as a cook but he, the man who could barely boil water two years ago, now cooks so, umm, yea… he’s a cook.

See, when I went back to a traditional 9-5 after working for myself for years, we had a little talk. There was no way I was going to get home after 5 p.m. every night and still get dinner on the table in time. He needed to step up and get over his fear (or rather inexperience) of cooking. So we decided to try one of those boxed dinner plans that come with all the ingredients and recipes. We tried a few (Hello Fresh was our first and ended up being our favorite), and I watched his confidence in the kitchen grow over the course of a few months. It was amazing, inspiring even. He went from zero interest in cooking to helping meal plan and even picking recipes out of books to prepare.

I never thought I’d see the day. We don’t use the boxed plans anymore because they got a little expensive and monotonous, but I will forever be thankful to them for teaching The Husband how to cook.

Okay, you may be wondering why the long intro for these tacos. Well, these tacos are my spin on one of our favorite Hello Fresh meals, Moo Shu Pork Tacos. I added the pineapple salsa and changed a few of the ingredients to use what I could find in the grocery store.

The 13-Year-Old requests these tacos every few weeks and I’m thrilled to oblige. The Husband is a fan, and I could eat this type of meal daily. It’s fresh, loaded with vegetables, and just downright delicious.

As usual, it’s the 7-Year-Old who could take or leave it. He’ll humor me by putting a bit of the meat on a shell with some shredded cheese, but that’s about it. The pineapple salsa is a no-go since the kid pretty much hates fruit and there’s no way he’s adding any kind of sauce to anything.

Sigh.

I’m still holding out hope that one day he’ll join us in our love of good food. I mean look at these things!

Hey, if The Husband can start cooking anything is possible.

Prep 15 mins

Cook 20 mins

Total 35 mins

Author Roni Noone

Yield 4 servings

Mix up Taco night with these pork and cabbage tacos. They are fresh, tasty and chock-full of veggies!

Ingredients

Pineapple Salsa 

1 cup pineapple diced (~200g)

1 bell pepper diced (red is my fav when we have them)

1/2 minced red onion

handful of fresh cilantro (7g)

juice of 1 lime 

pinch of salt

Pork and Veggie filling

1 lb ground pork

1 tbsp ground ginger

2 tsp garlic powder

5 Scallions

8 oz shredded red cabbage (around 1/2 head)

8 oz baby portobello mushrooms finely chopped  

2 tbsp Soy Sauce

Hoison Drizzle 

1 tbsp Hoisin Sauce 

1 tbsp non-frat greek yogurt 

~2 tsp water

Instructions

Prepare the pineapple salsa by mixing all the ingredients in a small bowl. Place in the fridge to chill and give the flavors time to merge.

Slice the scallions, separating the green and white parts. Set aside.

Shred the cabbage if needed and chop up the mushrooms small. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high and begin to brown the pork with the scallion whites, ginger and garlic. Once the meat is broken up, add the mushrooms and cabbage with a pinch of salt and pepper. Continue to cook, tossing and mixing everything up until the meat browns totally and the moisture comes out of the veggies reducing in size about half, about 10-15 minutes.

While the meat and veggies are cooking, make the hoisin drizzle by combining yogurt and hoisin sauce until smooth. Add a tsp of water at a time until it reaches the desired consistency.

Stir soy sauce into the pork and cook for about 5 minutes or so allowing the moister to evaporate. Serve on your favorite tortillas (I like corn, the boys like flour) by adding the pork mixture and topping it with the pineapple salsa, hoisin drizzle, the green tops of the scallions and a squirt of lime juice.

Enjoy!

Notes

We usually get about ten tacos out of this at least, but it really depends on the size of your tortillas. I split the meat into quarters and just top accordingly. Since the 7-Year-Old isn't the biggest fan, I sometimes get a bowl of the leftovers for lunch the next day.

If you don't have red onion, you can mix the green scallion tops in the salsa, and it works just as well. I've done this a few times in a pinch.

The nutritional information is for 1/4 of the recipe. It does not include the tortillas. 

Nutrition Facts

Amount Per Serving

Calories 368

% Daily Value

Total Fat 21 g

32%

Total Carbohydrates 24 g

8%

Dietary Fiber 5 g

20%

Sugars 12 g

Protein 24 g

48%

* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.

0

Related

Source: http://greenlitebites.com/2018/09/05/moo-shu-pork-tacos-with-pineapple-salsa/

[fuelyogurt6-blog]

Moo Shu Pork Tacos with Pineapple Salsa

Have I ever told you the story of how Hello Fresh turned my husband into a cook?

Well, I’m not sure he’d describe himself as a cook but he, the man who could barely boil water two years ago, now cooks so, umm, yea… he’s a cook.

See, when I went back to a traditional 9-5 after working for myself for years, we had a little talk. There was no way I was going to get home after 5 p.m. every night and still get dinner on the table in time. He needed to step up and get over his fear (or rather inexperience) of cooking. So we decided to try one of those boxed dinner plans that come with all the ingredients and recipes. We tried a few (Hello Fresh was our first and ended up being our favorite), and I watched his confidence in the kitchen grow over the course of a few months. It was amazing, inspiring even. He went from zero interest in cooking to helping meal plan and even picking recipes out of books to prepare.

I never thought I’d see the day. We don’t use the boxed plans anymore because they got a little expensive and monotonous, but I will forever be thankful to them for teaching The Husband how to cook.

Okay, you may be wondering why the long intro for these tacos. Well, these tacos are my spin on one of our favorite Hello Fresh meals, Moo Shu Pork Tacos. I added the pineapple salsa and changed a few of the ingredients to use what I could find in the grocery store.

The 13-Year-Old requests these tacos every few weeks and I’m thrilled to oblige. The Husband is a fan, and I could eat this type of meal daily. It’s fresh, loaded with vegetables, and just downright delicious.

As usual, it’s the 7-Year-Old who could take or leave it. He’ll humor me by putting a bit of the meat on a shell with some shredded cheese, but that’s about it. The pineapple salsa is a no-go since the kid pretty much hates fruit and there’s no way he’s adding any kind of sauce to anything.

Sigh.

I’m still holding out hope that one day he’ll join us in our love of good food. I mean look at these things!

Hey, if The Husband can start cooking anything is possible.

Prep 15 mins

Cook 20 mins

Total 35 mins

Author Roni Noone

Yield 4 servings

Mix up Taco night with these pork and cabbage tacos. They are fresh, tasty and chock-full of veggies!

Ingredients

Pineapple Salsa 

1 cup pineapple diced (~200g)

1 bell pepper diced (red is my fav when we have them)

1/2 minced red onion

handful of fresh cilantro (7g)

juice of 1 lime 

pinch of salt

Pork and Veggie filling

1 lb ground pork

1 tbsp ground ginger

2 tsp garlic powder

5 Scallions

8 oz shredded red cabbage (around 1/2 head)

8 oz baby portobello mushrooms finely chopped  

2 tbsp Soy Sauce

Hoison Drizzle 

1 tbsp Hoisin Sauce 

1 tbsp non-frat greek yogurt 

~2 tsp water

Instructions

Prepare the pineapple salsa by mixing all the ingredients in a small bowl. Place in the fridge to chill and give the flavors time to merge.

Slice the scallions, separating the green and white parts. Set aside.

Shred the cabbage if needed and chop up the mushrooms small. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high and begin to brown the pork with the scallion whites, ginger and garlic. Once the meat is broken up, add the mushrooms and cabbage with a pinch of salt and pepper. Continue to cook, tossing and mixing everything up until the meat browns totally and the moisture comes out of the veggies reducing in size about half, about 10-15 minutes.

While the meat and veggies are cooking, make the hoisin drizzle by combining yogurt and hoisin sauce until smooth. Add a tsp of water at a time until it reaches the desired consistency.

Stir soy sauce into the pork and cook for about 5 minutes or so allowing the moister to evaporate. Serve on your favorite tortillas (I like corn, the boys like flour) by adding the pork mixture and topping it with the pineapple salsa, hoisin drizzle, the green tops of the scallions and a squirt of lime juice.

Enjoy!

Notes

We usually get about ten tacos out of this at least, but it really depends on the size of your tortillas. I split the meat into quarters and just top accordingly. Since the 7-Year-Old isn't the biggest fan, I sometimes get a bowl of the leftovers for lunch the next day.

If you don't have red onion, you can mix the green scallion tops in the salsa, and it works just as well. I've done this a few times in a pinch.

The nutritional information is for 1/4 of the recipe. It does not include the tortillas. 

Nutrition Facts

Amount Per Serving

Calories 368

% Daily Value

Total Fat 21 g

32%

Total Carbohydrates 24 g

8%

Dietary Fiber 5 g

20%

Sugars 12 g

Protein 24 g

48%

* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.

0

Related

Source: http://greenlitebites.com/2018/09/05/moo-shu-pork-tacos-with-pineapple-salsa/