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hd-learns-korean · 5 years ago

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Hey all! I hope everyone is doing good. Today I’m finally back with another Musical Monday post. Can I get a whoop whoop! 🥳

My thoughts of the song: So this song was suggested to me a while back (I’m so sorry I’ve just got round to writing about it!) and I’m so glad that I got a chance to listen to it. It such a beautiful and dare I say quite haunting song. It has 90′s grunge vibes to it and I think its awesome. It’s very slow, very melodic and because of this it makes studying and listening to the lyrics a little easier. If ya’ll have seen Buffy the Vampire slayer before, you’ll know what I mean when I say this sounds like something they would play at the Sunnydale club that the Scooby gang visits.

Song: 이혼 by 조정치 (Feat. 선우정아)

Genre: I’m not 100% sure what to categorise this song as because it has elements of a few genres. I’d say it’s majoring on the K-indie sorta vibes.

Let’s get this weeks study session started! 공부하는 시작해요!

VERBS:

🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️💍 이혼하다 To get Divorced

🎁 Present – 이혼해, 이혼해요, 이혼합니다

⏰Past – 이혼했어, 이혼했어요, 이혼했습니다

🔮 Future – 이혼할 거야, 이혼할 거예요, 이혼할 겁니다

📑 Propositive – 이혼하자

Examples: 무슨 이혼 사유예요? What’s the reason for your/ the divorce? 작년에 저는 이혼을 당했어요. I got divorced last year.

🍜 먹다 – 1.) To eat, consume, devour 2.) Take, get 3.) Get older 4.) Expression used in sports 5.) Expression used to show high rank score 6.) Make a living 7.) smoke 8.) Be decayed 9.) Drink

🎁Present Tense: 먹어, 먹어요, 먹습니다

⏰Past Tense: 먹었어, 먹었어요, 먹었습니다

🔮Future Tense: 먹을 거야, 먹을 거예요, 먹을 겁니다

🔊🔮Declarative future: 먹겠어, 먹겠어요, 먹겠습니다

🎟Phrase: 잘 먹겠습니다 Thank you for the food. (Lit I’ll eat well.)

⚙Nominal: 먹음

Examples: 테이블 위에 한 번 먹음 반 사과가 있어요. There's a half-eaten apple on the table. 연어 리소토 저녁으로 식사 먹을 거예요. I’m going to eat salmon risotto for dinner.

Other usages of 먹다:

약을 먹다 take medicine

뭐 먹을래요? What would you like to eat?

먹고 살 수 없다 find it hard to make a living

벌레 먹은 이 A decayed tooth

담배를 먹다 Smoke cigarettes

술을 먹다 drink liquor

두통약을 먹다. Take headache pills

🥰 사랑한다 To love, to care for, to cherish, to like/ enjoy something.

🎁Present:사랑해, 사랑해요, 사랑합니다

⏰Past: 사랑했어, 사랑했어요, 사랑했습니다

🔮Future: 사랑할 거야, 사랑할 거예요, 사랑할 겁니다

⚙Nominal -ing: 사랑함

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️👋👎 헤어지다 – 1.) Part 2.) Break up 3.) Split/divorce

🎁 Present: 헤어져, 헤어져요, 헤어집니다

⏰ Past: 헤어졌어, 헤어졌어요, 헤어졌습니다

🔮 Future: 헤어질 거야, 헤어질 거예요, 헤어질 겁니다

⚙ Nominal ing: 헤어짐

Examples: 그녀는 남자 친구와 헤어졌다 She broke up with her boyfriend.

😮 놀라다 1.) To be surprised/ be amazed/ startled 2.) Wonder/ marvel

🎁 Present: 놀라, 놀라요, 놀랍니다

⏰ Past: 놀랐어, 놀랐어요, 놀랐습니다

🔮 Future: 놀랄 거야, 놀랄 거예요, 놀랄 겁니다

⚙ Nominal ing: 놀람

Examples: 놀람 표정 A look of surprise

놀라서 말이 안 나오다 To be dumb struck (Lit. to not be able to talk from being shocked) (I found this on Naver)

😫💩 잘못되다 To go wrong, to fail

🎁 Present: 잘못돼, 잘못돼요, 잘못됩니다

⏰ Past: 잘못됐어, 잘못됐어요, 잘못됐습니다

🔮 Future: 잘못될 거야, 잘못될 거예요, 잘못될 겁니다

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♂️ 묻다 1.) to ask, to inquire 2.) to blame

🎁 Present tense: 물어, 물어요, 묻습니다

⏰ Past Tense: 물었어, 물었어요, 물었습니다

🔮 Future tense: 물을 거야, 물을 거예요, 물을 겁니다

✈🚘🚍 떠나다 to leave, depart 2.) break off, be estranged from, severe relations with 3.) forget/ slip one’s mind 4.) Haunt

🎁 Present Tense: 떠나, 떠나요, 떠납니다

⏰ Past Tense: 떠났어, 떠났어요, 떠났습니다

🔮 Future Tense: 떠날 거야, 떠날 거예요, 떠날 겁니다

Examples: 저는 내일에서 일으로 아침 일찍 떠나걸 거예요. I’m leaving early in the morning for work tomorrow.

Other usages: 학창을 떠나다 To leave school/ to graduate school. 급히 떠나다 Hurry away, rush off. 슬그머니 떠나다 To sneak off/ slip away.

🚔 가두다 1.) To be shut up/ to lock up/ coop up/ pen up/ confine/trap 2.) Store

🎁 Present Tense: 가두어, 가두어요/ 가둬요, 가둡니다

⏰ Past Tense: 가두었어, 가두었어요, 가두었습니다

Examples: 경찰은 그 나쁜 사람이 감옥에 가뒀어요. The cops put the bad guy in jail.

🙅‍♀️🚫 말다 1.) To stop, break off 2.) not...but, instead off... except. 3.) Quit

🎁 Present tense: 말아, 말아요, 맙니다

⏰ Past tense: 말았어, 말았어요, 말았습니다

🔮 Future tense: 말 거야, 말거예요, 말 겁니다

Examples: 커피는 마셔 말자. Let’s not drink coffee. 오늘에 공원에서 가는 말자. Let’s not go to the park today.

🙈🙉🙊 속이다 deceive, cheat, trick, trick sb out of sth, trick sb into sth, fool, pass off as...

🎁 Present tense: 속여, 속여요, 속입니다

⏰ Past Tense: 속였어, 속였어요, 속였습니다

🔮 Future Tense: 속일 거야, 속일 거예요, 속일 겁니다

Examples: 것잣말로 속이 다 - To pull the wool over somebody’s eyes. 속이기 쉬울 사람 a gullible person

😭😭😭 펑펑 울다 To cry a lot/ to cry one’s eyes out.

Examples: 널 이야기가 너무 슬픈 난 펑펑 울겠어! I’m going to cry my eyes out because your story is so sad!

NOUNS:

🍚 밥 1.) Cooked rice 2.) Meal/ food 3.) Feed (for animals) 4.) Intrests 5.) A Pushover

😃😄😍 행복 1.) Happiness 2.) Blessing/ luck/ fortune

Examples: 저는 행복 사람 것 같아요. I think I'm a happy person. 해일 씨는 행복 사람 돼고 싶어요. Hae-il wants to be a happy person.

😴 잠 sleep (To get some sleep)

😘 입맞춤 a kiss 입맞춤하다 To kiss

😱😧 두려움 Fear, dread, horror, panic.

Examples: 넌 진짜 미친 넘이! 넌 어떻게 두려움을 모르고 있어?! You’re such a madman! How can you not be afraid?!

📌⌚⏳ 추억 memory, reminisce, look back

Examples: 난 널만 좋은 추억고있어. I only have good memories of you. 미안 난 널 안 추억고 있어. Sorry, I don’t remember you.

ADVERBS & ADJECTIVES:

🔁👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 모두 – 1.) All, everything, everyone 2.) All together

Examples: 그들 모두 똑똑하다 all of them are smart

🔊📢 말버릇 – The manner of speaking/ a way of talking

Examples: (I found these on Naver) 말버릇이 불퉁스럽다 Talk bluntly, 말버릇이 나쁘다 Be rude, 말버릇처럼 되다 be in the habit of saying/ always says.

🙅‍♀️🧊🥤 건조하다 (Adjective) 1.) Dry/ arid, 2.) Dry in the formal sense (No emotion)

Examples: 건조한 사람 A dry person, 건조한 피부 Dry skin

⛔🚫 그만 1.) To that extent, no more than that. 2.) Immediately 3.) giving up

👵👴🧓 오래 Old

😊 편하다 1.) to be comfortable, relaxed, untroubled 2.) handy/ convenient

👌👉👈 이대로 as it is, like this

Examples: 나는 이대로 좋다 I’m all right as I am.

🥰😊 착하다 To be nice, good-natured, good-hearted.

There we go everyone! Study list complete! Btw I’m still a beginner at learning Korean so if you spot any mistakes feel free to lemme know so I can correct them! Thanks everyone!

Also if you have a song (in either Korean or English) that you think the world and it’s mama need to know about and want me to make a study post like this one, feel free to send me a message/ ask and I will do my best to create it!

Happy studying x

Note: Gifs are not my own creation I just found them on tumblr. Resources that I used include Naver dictionary, papago translation and Verbix.com.

#langblr #studyblr #korean study notes #한국어 공부 #한국어 배우기 #korean studyblr #musical monday

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intematefly · 4 years ago

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Step by step instructions to Satisfy Your Wife

I have recently been left in such a condition of complete sexual weariness that even Jude Law and Brad Pitt couldn't stir my advantage, quit worrying about much else generous. For sure, such is my repletion, that I dread I may always again be unable to grasp a Romeo y Julietta half-crown between my thighs.

However, I am hurrying ahead; you are no uncertainty agog to know how my significant other drove me to such a pitch of tangible satisfaction and why I am composing this wearing just a somewhat torn and exorbitantly damp, dark trim strap canvassed in dubious looking, green stains?

Everything started mundanely enough when I was popping some underwear into the tumble dryer and discussing whether to sit on top and consider England. The tumble-drier that is, not the underwear. I am glad to state that desire prevailed upon genteel unobtrusiveness, and hitching up my dark small skirt most of the way up my delightfully tanned, smooth thighs, I stopped my charmingly sprightly base on the tumble dryer and trusted that a turning out to be wetness will assemble around my solidifying love button. No sooner had the first tremours which consistently foretell these moving encounters for me, started to swell through my thighs, than I heard the natural tones of my better half over the satisfying murmur of Germany's best vibrating homegrown apparatus.

"Dear - are you there?" was all the more critically rehashed as a since quite a while ago, drawn out groan got away from my separated lips.

"Simply coming," I answered with impressively more precision than expected.

Tragically I didn't come- - or 'cum'- - as you miserably verbally tested youngsters demand spelling the word which falls so oftentimes from your lips, however I think isn't at all surely known, as my little story will quickly uncover sex in corona virus.

"However, I figured you weren't returning until Saturday?" I shouted as my smiling playmate planted a loving kiss on my improved lips.

"I thought I'd shock you, sweetheart," he answered pleasantly, and included kindly: "I was unable to manage the idea of you in isolation with just that dreadful American Harold Robbins to delight you."

I should include at this point that Michael is a good old kind of chap, who while he has nothing against careless American mash fiction, discovers Mr Robbins' bodice-tearing portrayals of female excitement rather bland, or as he once put it to me: "That man is clearly a couple of prophylactics shy of the full pack or he would not constantly abide upon the size of his champion's chests. The chap is basically not mindful of any erogenous zone other than his own, 'fun-sized' pardon for a todger."

In any case, I stray. You need to recognize what we did together after Michael discovered me in the high condition of sexual excitement which his hasten entrance unexpectedly captured. Indeed, you will, my dears, you will. My darling had brought some scrumptious, wild smoked salmon with him which tragically won't be something that the vast majority of you have ever eaten. Do the trick it to state that the individuals who have, realize that it will generally be a delicacy of outperforming greatness not to be contrasted and the terrible filth my perusers scoop down their necks in 'down the chippy'. I subsequently proposed Michael prepare a light plate of mixed greens while I opened up a container or three of an especially light and fruity Californian Zinfandel.

When we had completed the process of eating and were very much into our second jug of plonk, Michael had figured out how to strip me of my pullover and bra and was persistently utilized in recharging his crooked tongue's long knowledge of my bosoms. So diligent was he in giving equivalent consideration to the two areolas (so as not to cause the smallest enviously) that his fingers' investigation of my pants was a fairly hit and miss issue. Those of you who have touched a lady's areolas with your tongue while at the same time fingering her adoration button in an adequately master way to stir her passion and poured wine with your other hand simultaneously, will realize that it is so hard to give equivalent focus to every one of these undertakings while the lady has her hand around your laugh stick.

Normally, Michael fizzled, yet he flopped bravely and we ladies welcome a man who gives his all in the quest for the fulfillment of his dearest.

Minutes after the fact we tumbled, as one does, onto the sheepskin carpet in the parlor, that Michael had mindfully made more agreeable by the shrewd expansion of a few pads put at vital focuses fully expecting the foolish deserting into which we currently plunged.

I was going to eliminate his pants when he got a handle on my wrist and advised me to close my eyes. Dutiful as I am in everything intimate (observe, you freed young ladies) I promptly leaned back on the pads and energetically anticipated improvements in the desire for something very irregular.

I didn't have long to pause, nor was I disillusioned. The main sensation was something round, hard, yet plush, being delicately squeezed between my separated thighs. I came to down to contact the puzzling interloper just to have my hand authoritatively slapped away. Gradually the article, which I presently saw was a little ball, was pushed under my inexorably wet pants. Another before long followed it and another. The most incredibly wonderful sensations overwhelmed through me as my sweetheart's handy tongue continued to instigate the puzzling spheroids to initiate a languorous move around the engorged access to my affection burrow.

I detected, instead of felt his teeth nibble into delicate tissue. Chill juice ran off my thighs and a hot, fragrant smell destroyed my trembling nostrils.

This was trailed by the first of many breaking climaxes, as what I presently acknowledged was some little, fragrant natural product, was squashed against my erect clitoris.

I was shuddering in each appendage and had everything except fainted away when the odiferous organic product was abruptly moved to my frightened lips. Its sugary alcohol was blended with the sweet wine of my own bounteous love juices and I licked my lips in thankful euphoria.

"Wow!" I discharged (quip completely planned), "it's a greengage!"

Any further conversation was smothered as a greater amount of the ambrosial organic products were tenderly moved to my trembling lips, hot from their dangerous visit between my shuddering thighs.

For those of you who have never tasted an English greengage straight from the tree in your own nursery, let me endeavor to portray the experience to you. The natural product is round and about an inch and a quarter in measurement. When completely ready, it is a brilliant, straightforward green- - flushed with pink and purple features. The skin looks like nothing to such an extent as an excellent lady's base, plush, and brilliantly delicate and providing for the touch. Pass the natural product before you nose and you are immediately compensated with the most brilliant fragrance; aromatic of drowsy summer days, powerful like a peach, hot like a newly cut apple, yet more perplexing than either and overlaid with all the lushness of the best attar of Rose. In the event that Chanel could blend such an aroma, ladies would murder for it.

And afterward you gently take it between your delicately separated lips and nibble into the substance. Ok! The pleasantness is stunning. So strongly sugary it nearly consumes your mouth with its pleasantness, yet like every one of Nature's organic products, never wiped out in the way that man-made desserts are. In any case, pause... there is another amazement, for as the tissue dissolves in your mouth and the clingy juices thrill your tongue, you experience a delectable sharpness; a tang of apple-like freshness as you bite the skin and gradually oust the rest of the substance from the little stone inside.

#sexcorona virussafeunsafe

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years ago

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Fic: Behind the Mask

Summary: Belle wakes up after a masquerade ball, remembering the wonderful time she had the previous night and wondering at the true identity of her bed partner. She’s pleasantly surprised.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “woke up in bed together”.

Rated: Explicit

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Behind the Mask

There was a lot of champagne last night. Belle remembers knocking back glass after glass of it to try and stop her nerves and give herself the confidence to speak to people at the ball. Of course, all it served to do was make her giggly as the bubbles went straight to her head.

She opens her eyes and looks at the ceiling and the ornate mouldings there, and more of the evening from before and after the champagne begins to come back to her.

Belle adjusted the mask on her face and checked her appearance in her compact one last time. This was certainly the fanciest and most elite party she had ever been to, and she still couldn’t believe her luck in landing an invitation. It had been Jefferson’s invite originally, but when Grace had got sick, he’d called in a favour and repaid one to Belle at the same time, getting his name on the guest list changed to hers. The annual masquerade ball, hosted by Boston’s publishing powerhouses, was always the talk of the town, and most people would kill to get an invite.

Belle was certainly excited to be going, but at the same time she couldn’t help feeling ridiculously out of place. After all, she was just a small-town librarian. Sure, she could talk about books with these bigwigs, but that was about it. Talking about big business and profit margins would be beyond her, and she wondered how long it would take her to be outed as a fraud. Not that she was a fraud; her name was on the guest list, after all. Still, she was definitely a Cinderella amongst princesses here.

Finally, she left the taxi and made her way up the steps of the Grand Palace Hotel, where the ball had been held every year for as long as anyone could remember. She gave Jefferson’s invitation to the doorman, and he quirked an eyebrow at her before checking the guest list at the concierge booth and letting her past into the ballroom with a polite nod. God, she already felt that she didn’t belong. Bow-tied waiters with champagne drifted past and Belle grabbed a glass, almost draining it in one go. If only Jefferson had been able to come with her, or at least give her some tips on whom she could safely approach to talk to. Not that it was such an easy feat when everyone was wearing masks. She exchanged her empty champagne flute for a full one and began to meander around the room. Jefferson had only left her with one hint – if you’re lost, find Gold.

Mr Gold, of no first name, was Jefferson’s business partner, and for all Belle had heard about him from her friend – and for all she’d heard him yelling in the background occasionally when Jefferson called her from work, she’d never met the man and had no idea what he looked like. She scanned the sea of masks around her, glad of her own anonymity and the leisure of watching people without it looking obvious that she was hopelessly lost in this high society. She knew that Gold was older than Jefferson by about a decade, but that didn’t help her much. Still, she might as well enjoy herself. If she couldn’t find Gold, she could at least find the buffet table and soak up some of this champagne.

Belle sits up a little, aware of the pleasant ache between her thighs, and she smiles at the memory of last night and the heady pleasures she found in spite of her nerves. She can always blame the champagne; but looking at the pool of blue silk on the floor that is her discarded dress and underwear, and the tuxedo carelessly tossed next to it, she feels no regret at all about this one-night stand.

The food was fantastic. Belle would probably have been happy to stay here scoffing canapes all evening if it hadn’t been for the trio of catty women a little way off who were looking at her with disdain behind their masks and remarking in stage whispers how unfortunate it was that her date appeared to be with the buffet instead of with a man. Belle felt her face flame, but in a champagne-fuelled display of defiance, she looked pointedly at the ladies and took a huge bite of smoked salmon before moving away. She really wanted some of the dainty little chocolate cakes at the other end of the table, but they’d have to wait until the buffet police moved on. Just because they were on diets of compressed protein mush and flavoured air…

She heard a soft laugh behind her and realised she’d spoken aloud. Belle cringed, before taking a deep breath and steeling herself. She had just as much right to be there as anyone else, and she turned to see whom she had amused.

The man was small and slim, not towering over her like so many of them did. Brown hair, a little on the long side, with a smattering of grey in it. His face was hidden behind a gold mask with a subtle glitter to it that suggested lizard scales, but he had dark brown eyes behind it, crinkled at the corners with laughter. His tuxedo was impeccably fitted, and he leaned on an elegant gold-handled cane. Belle could tell from the way his weight was set that it was for necessity, rather than show.

“I quite agree with you,” he said. “The food is there to be eaten and enjoyed. It’ll only go to waste otherwise.”

Belle smiled. “I’m glad you agree.”

The man extended a hand. “I’m Aiden.”

“Belle.”

There was something about the idea of a masquerade that made it easy to accept an alliance on such limited information. Even though most of these people probably knew each other, the masks leant everything an air of mystery, of strangers meeting for illicit rendezvous. The façade of anonymity was alluring, almost sensual in a way.

“Would you care to dance?” Aiden asked, indicating the couples twirling around to the sound of the string quartet. Belle glanced down at his cane, but she figured that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he physically couldn’t do it, and she took his hand.

“I’d love to.”

He was surprisingly agile and light on his feet; there were no dips or spins like the other couples, but Belle still enjoyed herself immensely, and by the time the tune came to an end, she did not regret coming to the ball at all. She no longer felt out of place.

Belle turns over and looks at Aiden’s sleeping form, stretched out on his back with the covers tangled at his hips, and she runs a finger down his lightly tanned chest. His hand catches hers before she reaches his navel, and he brings it to his lips.

“Good morning,” he says, voice sleepy and husky and still full of sex. “I hope you slept well.”

“I’d have slept better if you hadn’t kept me up all night, but all things considered, I really can’t fault you for that.”

Belle knew that under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t dream of kissing a man in a mask whom she’d only just met. All she knew about him was that his name was Aiden and that he worked in publishing. Oh, and he was a brilliant kisser and she’d give everything she had to feel that tongue between her legs. She didn’t even try to push that thought to the back of her mind or scold herself for thinking something so inappropriate. The masquerade gave her confidence – the champagne probably helped – and she was more than happy to go wherever the evening led.

When Aiden suggested moving from the darkened corridor outside the ballroom to his hotel room upstairs, Belle agreed enthusiastically.

The silent moment of pause as he dimmed the lights and dropped a condom from his wallet onto the pillow was heavy with anticipation, and there was an intense hunger in the pit of Belle’s stomach as she kissed him in the soft light from the nightstand, wrestling with his jacket and bow tie and the buttons of his shirt. He made to untie his mask, but Belle reached up to stop him.

“No. Leave it on.”

“It might get in the way a little.”

“I know. Just leave it on a while longer.” The air of mystery, of not being able to see his whole face, heightened the erotic thrill of the situation. She turned her back, looking coyly over her shoulder.

“Unzip me?”

Aiden was happy to oblige, and her dress fell in a jewel-like heap at her feet, leaving her in just sheer lace panties. Aiden slipped his hands around her waist, kissing her neck. The rough texture of his mask scraped her cheek, sending a jolt of pleasure down her spine. She twisted in his arms to kiss him fully on the mouth, and that ignited the spark inside, stoking it back into full flame. They pulled the rest of each other’s clothes off in a frenzy, until they were naked except for the elaborate masks. It was a moment of truth after all the masquerade and artifice, and Belle felt much more exposed as she unfastened the ribbon and bobby pins holding the mask in place.

Aiden’s face certainly didn’t disappoint now that she could see it in entirety; he was just as handsome as her glimpses indicated that he would be, and if the way his eyes were roaming over her body was anything to go by, then he felt the same way about her. Emboldened by the sight of his twitching cock and his obvious interest in her, Belle took the lead, beckoning him over to the bed and laying back against the covers. Aiden followed her, sinking eagerly down into her arms to kiss her again, covering every inch of her skin, mapping her with his mouth. When he reached her mound and kept going, Belle gasped, her thighs falling open for him readily. He was confident and generous with his tongue, licking long stripes along her folds and circling her clit. She’d definitely fallen on her feet with this one. He’d been an excellent conversation partner, a brilliant kisser, and now… God, was there anything his mouth couldn’t do?

Her breath came in sharp pants as he worked her closer and closer to her climax, and she groaned as the dam broke, pleasure spiralling through her. His smug little smile as he crawled back up the bed was thoroughly deserved, but Belle still wanted to wipe it away and replace it was uncontrolled abandon. Once movement returned to her limbs, she pushed him over onto his back, straddling his hips and rubbing her hot centre up against his cock, quickly bringing him back to full hardness.

“Now it’s your turn,” she purred, before grabbing the condom and rolling it onto him. His hips bucked up into her touch, eager for more, and Belle smirked as she lined them up and sank down onto his cock, bracing her weight against his shoulders as she began to move. Aiden’s hands came down to grab her ass, providing more leverage for him to thrust up to meet her. It was a hard, fast rhythm, echoing the electric feelings that had been passing between them all evening.

Belle closed her eyes as she felt a finger rub at her clit, bringing her back to the edge and quickly tumbling over it. Aiden followed her just a moment later, his hips stilling and his fingers digging into her ass cheek. Belle raised herself on shaking knees to let him slip out of her, and she collapsed down beside him, panting and damp with sweat, but so wonderfully satisfied. Oh yes, this unexpected boldness had definitely paid off.

Aiden tips her onto her back and kisses her again, but before they can go any further, there’s an urgent, if muffled, ringtone from their pile of clothes. He sighs.

“I’d better take that.”

Belle just stretches out, watching him as he limps over to his discarded tux jacket and admiring the view of his backside.

“Aiden Gold, Mad Hatter Publishing.”

Belle’s blood freezes and she claps her hands over her mouth. Jefferson had told her to find Gold if she needed someone to talk to. She found him all right, and then she spent most of the night shagging him senseless. Her best friend’s business partner.

It’s all Jefferson’s fault, she tells herself. If he’d just told her Gold’s first name instead of maintaining that it was ‘mister’ then she’d never have had this problem. Would she? Would the bounds of propriety and professionalism have stopped her having (absolutely mind-blowing) sex with him? After all, he’s Jefferson’s business associate, not hers, and Jefferson’s been trying to find Belle a special someone for a while now.

Before she can think on it any further, Aiden finishes his call and turns back to her.

“Sorry about that, he begins, then she sees her shocked expression. “Are you all right?”

Belle nods, shakes her head, and nods again.

“Aiden Gold,” she squeaks.

“Yes…”

“Mad Hatter Publishing.”

“Yes…”

“Jefferson Milliner.”

“He’s my business partner, yes…”

“Right.”

“Belle? Is something wrong?”

“I’m Jefferson’s friend, Belle French, Grace’s godmother.”

Aiden has a similar reaction to the recognition of her true identity as she had to his.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh. So, where do we go from here?”

Belle thinks about it for a minute, remembering the wonderful night they spent together. She just doesn’t regret it, even now she knows Aiden’s full identity.

“Well, you could start by getting back into bed and finishing kissing me into oblivion like you were about to do before that untimely interruption. Maybe then we could get some breakfast. Exchange numbers. And maybe, one day, we’ll laugh about how we met.”

“Jefferson will indeed find it hilarious,” Aiden agrees, slipping back into bed beside her.

Yes, Belle thinks, as Aiden kisses her again and she surrenders wholeheartedly. Jefferson would certainly approve.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #rumbelle smut #Fic: Behind the Mask

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years ago

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Until I Can Go Back to My Favorite Restaurant, This Jerk Paste Is the Next Best Thing

I don’t know how I lived so long without a jar of Walkerswood jerk seasoning | Elazar Sontag

Walkerswood Jamaican jerk seasoning has quickly become a kitchen staple

I smear the dark brown paste on everything. I pat it onto salmon filets before I slide them into the oven and sneak it between tightly stacked leaves of cabbage layered into a steamer basket. I use my hands to massage it into Brussels sprouts, roughly chopped carrots, and broccoli florets. And every time I pull the container from my fridge, I ask myself how the hell I lived so long without a jar of jerk seasoning.

I didn’t grow up eating much Jamaican food in Oakland, California. This city, awash with some of the best Ethiopian and Eritrean, Filipino, Mexican, and Laotian food in the country, has comparatively few spots offering flavors of the Caribbean. And neither of my vegetarian Jewish parents were making a whole lot of curry chicken or braised oxtails.

My introduction to jerk chicken — its skin soaked in the flavor of sweet smoke, of Scotch bonnet peppers, allspice berries, ginger, and green onion — was during my first year of college, across the Hudson river from a New York town called Kingston. That’s where I had my first meals at Top Taste, where you’ll find the best — and more or less only — jerk chicken, curry goat, and oxtails in town. The snug restaurant, painted with wide stripes of yellow and green in the colors of the Jamaican flag, and set on the corner of a sleepy residential street, sells all sorts of groceries you can’t find elsewhere in the area: ackee, saltfish, canned callaloo and Tastee Cheese in vacuum-sealed aluminum containers.

As soon as the door swung open on my first visit four years ago, I was greeted by booming dancehall coming from a boombox propped above the entrance and the smiling faces of owners Melenda Bartley and Albert Samuel Bartley, known to a stream of friends and loyal customers as Sammy. For many, Top Taste brought familiarity and reminders of faraway homes. To me, everything about the experience was new, a welcome and deeply needed change of pace and scenery from the always-boiled, never-baked food of my college dining hall. I didn’t own a car, but whenever I could convince one of my new friends to drive me there, I was at Top Taste.

This wasn’t the sort of recipe I could transcribe, fold up, and stash away for safekeeping.

Over the years, Melenda and Sammy became friends, and their restaurant felt more like home than the cement-block dorm where I slept. I’d order from the menu scrawled on a piece of neon green cardstock on the wall, and while Melenda was filling my square plastic plate with rice and peas, stew chicken, oxtails, and plantains, I’d walk around to the restaurant’s snug concrete patio, where a plume of smoke tipped off the whole neighborhood that Sammy was making a fresh tray of jerk chicken.

That chicken was like nothing I had eaten. The meat was almost blackened by the time it absorbed the smoke, and while the skin was crisp, it gave way between my teeth. The flesh was ever so slightly past the point of juiciness, the fat and connective tissue broken down over hours of gentle cooking, so that the meat melted with each bite, mixing with starchy sweet plantains, steamed cabbage and peppers, and a dot of ketchup and scorching hot sauce.

A few months into my often twice-weekly trips to Top Taste, I asked Sammy how he made his jerk chicken. He sat down next to me with his spice-smudged apron still on, and explained the process in very matter-of-fact terms: The meat gets marinated overnight in a rich jerk seasoning blend (very, very heavy on the ginger), and the next day — rain or shine — he lights a spark under the pimento wood in his old barrel grill, caked with a thick layer of seasoning from good use, and cooks the chicken until it’s done.

I’d known as soon as Sammy first walked me through his process that this wasn’t the sort of recipe I could transcribe, fold up, and stash away for safekeeping. He’d made the dish on so many occasions that each step was second nature: an inkling that more scallion, garlic, or Scotch bonnet was needed, a sniff test confirming the salt, heat, and herbage was balanced to his liking.

When I moved to the city after leaving college, I made it a point to seek out jerk chicken whenever and wherever I could, always comparing it to the meat that came off Sammy’s grill. Some restaurants in Brooklyn had plantains more plump than the ones at Top Taste. Others had the perfect rice and peas, each grain and bean whole and separate, never mushy. Many served a jerk chicken that was good — exceptional, even. But despite following every recommendation, no one’s chicken compared to Sammy’s.

I came back to Oakland to spend the first month of shelter-in-place with my family. But like so many others who up and left cities with no real plan, a month turned into three, and then four, and now here I am, writing from my childhood home six months later. When I lived in Brooklyn, I hadn’t once tried to make jerk chicken in my own kitchen, knowing when a craving really hit — which it reliably did — I could buy an Amtrak ticket for $38 and be perched comfortably at one of Top Taste’s plastic-upholstered booths by lunch. Now, I feel pangs of sadness thinking about Sammy and Melenda and the plate of jerk chicken and rice and peas I could be eating 3,000 miles away.

But on YouTube, where I spend so much of my life now, I recently came upon Terri-Ann, a Saint Lucian home cook who walks viewers through hundreds of incredibly appealing recipes. They include pandemic classics — banana bread and dalgona coffee, our old friends — but also some favorite dishes I didn’t get a chance to peek into the kitchen and watch Sammy or Melenda make on visits to Top Taste. Terri-Ann has recipes for oxtails robed in velvety gravy, flaky golden beef patties, and, to my great satisfaction, jerk chicken. In one video showing viewers how she makes her chicken, Terri-Ann pulls out a glass jar of Walkerswood Jamaican Jerk Seasoning, a pre-blended mixture of spices and herbs which she says she swears by. She plops a generous spoonful of the deep brown mixture into a bowl of chicken drumsticks, along with a big spoonful of her herby green seasoning blend and a drop or two of browning sauce for color. I hastily switched tabs and bought three jars of the seasoning blend with expedited shipping. It wouldn’t be the same, but maybe it’d do the trick.

Since then, the Walkerswood blend has become a staple in my kitchen. The spicy mixture of scallions, Scotch bonnet, allspice, nutmeg, and plenty of thyme finds its way into more or less everything I cook. It’s notably lacking in the generous heaps of grated fresh ginger I know Sammy adds to his blend, but still, it’s excellent. I live just blocks from Minto, one of few Jamaican markets in Oakland, and I regularly stop in to add new sauces and seasoning blends to my growing pantry. I have a jar of browning sauce now, and I’ve bought as many of the hot sauces I remember seeing on the tables at Top Taste as I can find. But nothing I’ve added to my pantry since coming home comes close to my jar of jerk seasoning. In addition to using it in recipes from Terri-Ann and other Caribbean and Caribbean-American YouTubers and food bloggers, I add the paste to fried rice, to tofu, to — you get it.

The boldly flavored mixture is a perfect match for chicken, but that’s where I use it least, instead opting to put it on a thick slab of salmon or slather it on vegetables before roasting. Perhaps there’s just too much dissonance when I pair it with chicken, the bar too high to meet.

I miss Sammy’s jerk chicken like I’ve never missed food before. It’s a yearning that’s become familiar during this pandemic, for those things I know I can’t have. There is no takeout order that will meet the craving, which is as much about the environment surrounding a plate of chicken as it is about the blend of spices or the kiss of smoke that permeates each bite. Those meals were colored by a sort of care and hospitality that you can’t pay for and that’s hard to even seek out. The extra steamed cabbage and carrots because Melenda knew I liked to run the mixture through a pool of curry goat gravy on my empty plate. A piece of bubblegum set on the table as I finished eating, just something to chew on during the drive back to campus. Later, Melenda would send me off with a warm slice of her homemade rum cake wrapped in aluminum foil. It sat in my coat pocket and warmed my hand as I boarded Amtrak to go back to Penn Station.

The first time I bit into a piece of baked chicken I’d marinated in the Walkerswood seasoning blend, I felt pulled in two directions: It was delicious — fragrant and hot, every spice and herb present but not overwhelming. I also felt a little disappointed, as if I’d really expected my thrown-together Wednesday night dinner to taste anything like what Sammy pulled off his smoker after hours and hours of slow cooking and constant attention. I know now, as I go on seven months without a single meal in a restaurant’s dining room or even on a reopened patio, that what’s missing isn’t a handful of grated ginger or the smoke from pimento chips (though both would improve my chicken game dramatically). What’s missing is something only a restaurant like Top Taste can provide, that can’t be found in a jar of seasoning. But right now a jar of seasoning is what I’ve got, and until I find myself in that tiny dining room again, this one is pretty damn good.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/32ZNWqa https://ift.tt/3mNPQlT

I don’t know how I lived so long without a jar of Walkerswood jerk seasoning | Elazar Sontag

Walkerswood Jamaican jerk seasoning has quickly become a kitchen staple

This wasn’t the sort of recipe I could transcribe, fold up, and stash away for safekeeping.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/32ZNWqa via Blogger https://ift.tt/2EBMbWY

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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networkingdefinition · 5 years ago

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Espresso Quotes

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

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

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equitiesstocks · 5 years ago

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Espresso Quotes

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suzie81blog · 6 years ago

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On Thursday night I was invited to a special ‘Meet Marco’ event at the Marco Pierre White Steakhouse and Grill on Level 25 of The Cube in the Mailbox, Birmingham.

I have been to the restaurant a number of times. This, however, was slightly different: Marco himself would be there, meeting guests and signing copies of his book. I was asked if I would like the opportunity not only to try new dishes from the menu, but to sit and talk with the great chef himself.

Along with Lauren Foster from What’s On Birmingham (check out the interview in their June edition) and a small media crew filming us, what was supposed to be a short interview became an informative and, quite frankly, rather hilarious chat that lasted well over half-an-hour. He’s an incredibly charismatic and charming character and while my nerves were obvious, it was easy to relax into conversation and enjoy his company.

Marco explained his inspiration for the new items on the menu, with an emphasis on seasonal ingredients and dishes in rotation while being conscious of vegetarians and vegan options. He revealed his own experiences with veganism, adopting a pure vegan diet and stopping all carbs, drinking and smoking for nine months which resulted in a massive five-stone weight loss. The philosophy? Understanding and talking about vegetarian and vegan food can only be done if you’ve practised it yourself. He told us about his visit to Sri Lanka and how the spices and seasonings in Asian and indeed, Italian foods were perfectly suited to vegan and vegetarian lifestyles and the importance of a balanced diet.

I asked him about the foods that he really dislikes.

The only thing that I’ve really struggled to eat in my life is chicken’s feet… it doesn’t do it for me. I’m really into strange food, don’t get me wrong. I like eating, eating is one of my great passions in life… I go to this restaurant in Singapore… (he explains about the chef bringing a dish out to him and the fact they are fascinated that he likes tendons) and I said, “What is it?”. “It’s a surprise.”

Cue giggles from myself and a long pause while we wait in anticipation for the answer.

Cow throat. Not for me… Can you imagine eating windpipe? I said, it’s not for me, but please apologise to the chef.

Interviewing Marco

As an honorary Brummie and former teacher, I was particularly interested in the advice he would offer a working-class Brummie who wants to become a respected chef.

Firstly, the advice I would give is that when you go for a job, keep your fingers crossed and hope that you get it, and by not asking by how many hours and how much you’re going to get paid, your chances of getting the job have increased enormously… you’ll soon find out how you’re being paid, you’ll soon find out how many hours you’re going to work, and what I’ve learnt in my life is that knowledge is your passport to freedom. It really is, and my father gave me that advice as a young man. He also told me never to call in sick. You turn up for work if you’re ill, and the chef will see that you’re not well… So, I think the advice I would give, is conduct your interviews correctly, and that’s not just for chefs, that’s for everything. And what’s really important is always be punctual…

And I used to go for interviews and I would sit there with my fingers crossed and pray I get the job. I remember I went for an interview with Pierre Koffman who – we’re great friends, Pierre and I, and we have a business together… and he said “I have no position in my kitchen” and it was the first time I’d ever been turned down, and the only time. So I said (even though I could afford it) “I’ll work for nothing.” I worked for three weeks for zero money, I was really on the breadline… he called me in (Marco then explained that Koffman then employed him). Prove yourself…

I wanted to know his thoughts on the incredible food scene in Birmingham.

Well, it’s all of those cultures isn’t it? It’s a beautiful jigsaw, it’s a melting pot, and also because it’s the second city it’s brought all these businesses in which brings money, which allows people to pay… so Birmingham is one of those great gastronomic cities of Britain in my opinion.

Above all, my burning question was one that would hopefully solve the continuing argument that has raged between my friends and I for quite some time…

The big scone debate: cream or jam first? (Incidentally, he pronounced it to rhyme with ‘gone.’)

Well, you’ve got to look at logic. Logic must always dictate… the reality is that it looks prettier with the cream on first and then the jam, it looks way prettier, but you try spreading jam on cream… it’s not about etiquette for me. At the end of the day I take a scone, put my jam on and then put my cream on top.

And then, there was the big northern divide: Lancashire versus Yorkshire. As a proud Boltonian, and with Marco hailing from Leeds, the northern banter began as soon as I told him where I was from. We discussed Peter Kay (he’s got a kind face) and the fact that I haven’t been able to order garlic bread in public since Peter Kay became famous, Bolton Wanderers and ‘Big Sam’ and my Yorkshireman husband. I jokingly informing him that he was from the wrong side of the Pennines, he explained that Lancastrians are referred to as ‘long necks’ (I’d never heard of it, but it was because we’re always stretching our necks over the hills to find out what’s going on – we’re nosy, apparently) and that he always tells his sons to buy white roses instead of red because of the House of York. I took advantage of this to remind him that – *cough* – we won, referring to the War of the Roses. He laughed and joked with us throughout, seemingly enjoying the chat, and openly admitted that he likes interviewing the interviewers.

My hair was in his face…

The book signing area

The whole experience went by so quickly – thirty minutes felt like more like five. Marco signed a copy of his book for us, inscribing ours as ‘Suzie and the Yorkshire Lad,’ and in one for our gastronomic friend (we were graciously given a book each), in which he signed it as being from ‘The Bird from Bolton.’ We took selfies and I added to my awkwardness by positioning myself so that I accidentally covered half of his face with my hair. I said goodbye, thanked him and shook his hand, and he told us to come and say goodbye to him after we had eaten.

We were then shown to our table, which was seated right next to the window with a a panoramic view of the city.

The menu for the evening focused solely on new dishes, with four options to choose from for each course.

The Starter options were:

Calamari

Classic French Onion Soup À La Normandie with croutons, gruyère cheese and cider.

Poached Pear, Alex James Cheese Salad with candied walnuts and merlot vinegar (Vegetarian)

Wheeler’s Crispy Calamari with tartare sauce and fresh lemon.

Mr White’s Scotch Egg with Colonel Mustard’s Sauce.

The Bloke and I both ordered the Calamari – we both love seafood but often avoid ordering squid at restaurants as it is often a dish that can easily be overcooked and rubbery. This, however, was beautiful. Fried in a thin coating of very light and crispy batter, the calamari were piping hot and perfectly tender, and the punchy tartare sauce complimented them perfectly. I also loved the fact that the accompanying lemon was wrapped in a thin muslin to allow the juice to be squeezed without the pips falling onto the plate. It was a small touch, but the attention to detail made me smile.

For the Main courses our options were:

8oz Rib Eye Steak

Honey Roast Bacon Chop with boxtree red cabbage, pommes fondant, Marco Polo glaze and honey roasting juices.

Creamy Polenta with Italian hard cheese, leaf spinach, Fricasée of woodland mushrooms and extra virgin olive oil. (Vegetarian)

8oz Rib Eye Steak with roasted vine tomatoes, triple cooked chips and béarnaise sauce.

Wheeler’s Salmon Fishcake with buttered leaf spinach, soft boiled hens egg and tartare sauce.

I ordered the steak – medium – and The Bloke had the fishcake. I often avoid ordering steak when dining out, finding the quantity of red meat a little too much for one sitting, but it seemed ridiculous not to try the dish that the restaurant is famous for. It was perfectly cooked – seared, full of flavour, juicy and beautifully pink and served with a classic Béarnaise sauce. The Bloke equally enjoyed his fish cakes – made from freshly cooked salmon and coated in a fine breadcrumb. The only slight disappointment was that I would have preferred the chips to be slightly warmer, but our main courses overall personified Marco’s notion that simplicity in cooking can produce exquisite results.

By the time dessert arrived we had experienced a beautiful sunset and the ambience of the restaurant had been enhanced by blue/purple mood lighting, in lovely contrast with the view of the lights from the buildings in the city outside.

For Dessert the options were:

70% Bitter Chocolate Mousse with hazelnut nougatine.

Mr White’s Rice Pudding with apricots and vanilla.

The Boxtree Mess.

Baked New York Cheesecake with blueberry compote.

(It’s worth noting that all of the dessert dishes were suitable for vegetarians).

I opted for the chocolate mousse (of course) and The Bloke ordered the cheesecake. I’ve commented during previous visits on the fact that the mousse was the best I have ever eaten and this was no exception. Rich and incredibly smooth, the mousse was complimented by the texture of the crunchy hazelnut nougatine and the sweet whipped cream piped on top, and was just the right amount to finish the meal before it became sickly or too filling. Click on the images for the full size…

The Chocolate Mousse

New York Cheesecake

What an evening! The Bloke seemed to enjoy himself as much as I did. As we were leaving, Marco was still signing books and I didn’t want to disturb him or interrupt another guest’s experience so I didn’t say another goodbye. However, this ‘Bird from Bolton’ thinks the Lad from Leeds well deserves his reputation as a fabulous chef – and also proved to be a lovely person…

Disclaimer: I was invited to meet Marco Pierre White and review the new menu items free-of-charge, but was given no instructions or questions to ask and was under no obligation to provide a positive review. The interview was filmed with our permission.

An Interview with Marco Pierre White On Thursday night I was invited to a special ‘Meet Marco’ event at the Marco Pierre White Steakhouse and Grill on Level 25 of The Cube in the Mailbox, Birmingham.

#Birmingham #blog #bloggers #blogging #Experiences #food #Food Blog #Food Review #fun #inspiration #interview #Marco Pierre White

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g33klady · 7 years ago

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Celiac Traveling in Stratford and Kitchener/Waterloo, ON

I was speaking at a conference in Kitchener, so my husband and I decided to make a bit of a vacation out of it and go to Stratford as well. I had been to Stratford before - in High School I attended on a school trip to see some Shakespeare plays, as I’ve always had a thing for his works :D But my husband had never been to Canada, so this was a new adventure for him! And Kitchener was new to both of us, so adventure for us both!

As a celiac, traveling can be a nightmare. You never know what kind of food culture a place will have. I use the Find Me GF app constantly while traveling - you can see other’s ratings, whether they’re celiac friendly or not, etc. It’s always a gamble, though - nobody’s celiac is the same, where some might feel comfortable eating McDonald’s fries, but I do not. Anyway, we found some amazing food in Stratford and Kitchener/Waterloo and I wanted to put it all together in one place rather than just on Instagram!

Stratford

We stayed in a little hotel that’s on the second floor above a pizzeria. We were a bit skeptical but it was a great little hotel room! We stayed at the Wellington Street Inn - check it out if you’re in the area! Definitely not for more than 2 people :D

We got to Stratford late afternoon, and wandered a bit before finding some dinner. Using the Find Me GF app, we decided on Rene’s Bistro. After reading the reviews, I couldn’t wait to try the seafood mac and cheese!

In place of bread they offered some GF crackers and goat’s cheese. Perfect!

Of course I ordered the seafood mac and cheese with GF pasta. Now I also need to stay low sodium, and I shouldn’t have eaten the whole thing, but I did :/

It was amazing! We of course needed to have dessert, so we split a creme brulee

It was insanely good! Great service and amazing food, we will definitely be back there if we’re ever back in Stratford!

In the morning, we went to one of the nearby coffee shops Revel. We were happy to find they had some pre-packaged delicious cookies that were GF!

They were really tasty! We were happy to find these a few more times while in Ontario, and got a few each time.

With breakfast out of the way, along with some shopping and wandering the parks, we stopped in at Balzac’s for some lattes and found the Energy Circle cookies again, much to our delight! They had some GF brownies as well, but I can’t have chocolate so we skipped them.

Then we headed off toward Kitchener/Waterloo for some lunch.

Kitchener/Waterloo

Our first stop in Kitchener/Waterloo was Rawlicious. We were not disappointed! The reviews were great, and it being 100% gluten free, I had no worries about the meal.

We had spring rolls as an appetizer, but we ate them too quick and I didn’t get a picture! I had a delicious raw pad thai, and it was great and so filling! My hubby had a zucchini pesto bowl. We both loved it so much! We don’t normally eat raw, but could definitely see that we’d be able to without a problem.

One suggestion - have some beano beforehand ;)

After all that healthy raw food, when we got to our hotel in Kitchener we decided to go find some frozen yogurt or ice cream. The froyo place across from the hotel was closed, so we looked on the Find Me GF app for some alternatives and found one about a mile walk away. So we walked up and down hills for a while until we came across this odd little location with amazing ice cream - Four All.

By the time we got there, it was close to closing and they had sold out of scoopable ice cream - all they had left was pints. All of their flavors available were GF, and we decided to each get a pint and eat it on the long walk back. Because that’s how we roll!

I got the Fresh Ginger flavor and OMG! It had little bits of ginger in it, and real fresh ginger flavor. It was spicy and sweet and so amazing! My hubby went for the classic vanilla bean, which was so creamy and delicious.

We walked a TON that day, so felt like we deserved that treat... We were splurging, for sure :D

Dinner that night was much later - we had to digest! But we found what sounded like a great burger place on the Find Me GF app, so we decided to check it out. We were not disappointed! South St. Burger is so good!

They not only have GF buns that are in separate wrappers, they have a separate toaster, and separate toppings to avoid cross contamination. Everyone changes their gloves, too. I am super sensitive and had no reaction, it was AMAZING!

The burger was thick and juicy, the bun was beautifully toasted and delicious, and the fries were awesome. We wanted to go back but didn’t get the chance. I’m drooling a bit thinking about that burger now...

We got some groceries for breakfast the next day - some Udi’s bagels and cream cheese - to put in our hotel room mini fridge, so no breakfast joints will be reviewed here :D

I had a scheduled dinner for speakers of the conference at a place that wasn’t in the Find Me GF app. I had assurances from the organizers that I should be ok. I will be adding them to the app, because they were awesome!

The dinner was at 271 West. Because I need to be low sodium, and I haven’t been great about it leading up to this dinner, I talked to a waiter and got my meal figured out. It looks plain, but it was really tasty

The thing is, it’s not just that I had salmon and veggies. They were AMAZING staff. One guy, maybe the owner, told me that the soup of the day was chicken noodle, and they had made fresh gluten free noodles for the soup because they knew someone that was gluten free was coming with the speakers group. I wish it wasn’t so hot that day, because that’s the most amazing thing for them to do!

Also I had creme brulee for dessert again - no picture because I inhaled it. So good!

Last meal stop on the trip was Taco Farm. After reading the reviews, we had to go! It was absolutely worth dealing with construction traffic! My only regret is not eating more there! They were also featured on the Food Network show You Gotta Eat Here and I endorse that :D

Everything on their menu is GF, except the churros. We were so excited, it took us a while to decide. We ended up with the smoked sweet potato taquitos for a starter, and splitting a 4-taco platter (I could have eaten 2 of those myself!) with fried fish tacos, and smoked chicken tacos. OMG sooooooo gooood!

After tacos that we didn’t overfill ourselves on, we decided we needed some froyo. After we went to the one across from the hotel and got “we *think* it’s gluten free”, we decided to hit up Menchie’s. We’ve been to them here, so were confident we’d have a good experience.

After the last of the bagels in our room in the morning, we checked out and hit up the local Balzac’s for some lattes and more energy circles!

Overall, we ate really well while in Ontario. I hadn’t spent any time there since being diagnosed with celiac so it was nice to find!

#celic #travelling celiac #gluten free #gluten free stratford #gluten free kitchener/waterloo #travelling gluten free #celiac

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montanamariefredrick · 8 years ago

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Making your perfect pasta sauce

I find that every great pasta sauce begins with your main vegetable. Whether it’s your classic tomato, seasonal squash or simple shallot, this will not only contribute to the main flavor, but will also give it a specific color, warmth, and overall “experience” to your dish.

Next, you want to think about supporting vegetables. These are meant to enhance your main vegetable and give it extra notes of flavor. What do I mean by this? Think garlic, onions, chives…the list goes on. These vegetables, whether you focus on one or all, are there to give specificity to your main vegetable.

Herbs. This topic alone could merit a million posts, but to keep it simple for this purpose, this will give it that lingering taste—obviously if you put too much garlic, it will render everything garlicky, which you don’t want! There are so many herbs out there, some can serve as faint enhancements to your flavor pairing well with each bite, and others are noticeable from a quick whiff. Whatever you choose, I highly recommend you take the time to imagine what taste you wish you accomplish—think vision board, but for your taste buds! If you don’t immediately enter your taste-bank of every food you’ve ever eaten, try to think of your favorite dishes and what herbs stood out to you. If you’ve ever dreamed of a fresh and tangy salmon, try dill! Or, if you dream of those warm notes in your favorite curry’s, try cumin!

Spices. Just like herbs, there are so many of them. From your standard pepper and paprika, to lemon pepper and smoked paprika, you’ll find classics and hybrids abound, but what’s most important is what will enhance YOUR sauce. Again, like the herbs, take the time to imagine the flavor you are trying to accomplish. I know it seems silly at first, but it could actually lead to you making an ok pasta sauce versus something that blows your taste buds. I know that’s dramatic, but this is literally how I cook, and that’s why you’re here, so trust me 🤗.

Now that you’ve got your ingredients all narrowed down let’s talk about the physical cooking aspect. There are two ways to begin cooking a sauce, the first is to roast, and the second is to sauté. Both methods have their differences, which are: temperature, time, transformation, and taste. These 4 T’s are what you will want to focus on when choosing a cooking method. Of course you can mix it up and do both (if you do, A+ you’re already a pro), but if you would rather stick with one, that’s totally ok just understand how it’s done. Depending on your main vegetable you might have to use the oven. Thick gourds, like squash or pumpkin, their thick skin make the oven perfect for breaking them down into tender and juicy vegetables to start with. Temperature and time pretty much go hand in hand, no matter what you are cooking. Generally, if you are cooking your vegetables in the oven you don’t want them to over wilt. What does this mean, don’t let them all go black. I know that seems simple, but trust me if can happen in seconds if you aren’t paying attention. The perfect wilt is when they are browning, but not black. Tomatoes and garlic can take the heat and undergo magical transformations giving them a sweet and aromatic taste. For these specific vegetables, look for very visible brown spots and a clear softening of the skin. There is literally nothing better than roasted garlic and tomatoes, so be sure to incorporate this if it fits! Pre-heating at 400°F is a good place to start. Why? Remember, you aren’t baking your sauce, you want to get them in and out in time to throw them all in the blender. This is with the exception of gourds, these will take a bit longer, think 30+ minutes, so keep this is mind if you are crunched for time.

I generally like to get all of my vegetables in a bowl, drizzle them with olive oil, throw in my herbs and spices, and then get to cooking. I feel like I should also talk about cutting. Since you will be throwing them all in the oven, to then put them in a blender, you really don’t need to cut anything—especially not your tomatoes. However, I generally like to cut my onions either in half or in quarters, and chop a whole garlic bulb in half, or simply toss in whole cloves. If you are using a gourd, you should try to cut it in half or in quarters, depending on size.

Once you’ve taken all of your ingredients out of the oven or off of the stove, throw them all in the blender, and blend to your desired consistency. Add in desired amounts of salt and pepper, and you’re done! If you don’t have a blender, don’t freak out. Try to cut and chop your veggies down to bite size servings, toss them in with your pasta, add a bit more olive oil, and you have a wonderful veggie pasta medley that is just as amazing!

#homecooking #homemade #recipes #kitchenconfidence #kitchenconfidential #foorporn #pasta dishes #foodpics #foodblogger #cooking

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