#hand beaten coffee recipe

[twistedteatime]

Dessert

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Scorpio!Reader

A/N: Been a bit, but this took a turn and I'm working on something different and much longer.

Summary: Bucky got called away on a mission. You haven't answered your phone for three days. He gets back to the compound only to find Tony telling him, Steve, Sam, and Natasha that something bad happened and he doesn't know where you are. When they find you it isn't what anyone expects. Except for Natasha.

Warnings: LANGUAGE. Canon typical violence. Mentions of firearms. Mentions of mafia. Allusions to torture. Minimal Y/N use. Use of doll. Fluff. Some flirting. Pop culture references (See if you can find them all and leave them in the comments. Some are obvious, some less so.) Can't think of much else. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: Almost 5.2k

Master List: Scorpio AU

Previous Story: Coffee

===================

Tired. Bucky was genuinely just…tired. He really needed to sleep. More than a 10-minute power nap, but he needed to see you.

Dessert had been postponed, unfortunately, as the moment he left from archives he was called to go out on a mission. With Steve, Sam, and Natasha. To go and check in on an abandoned HYDRA base that wasn��t exactly abandoned yet also not exceptionally occupied.

It felt like a distraction. Especially as he remembered the base in question. It should have been loaded with people. It had barely a dozen and none of them were particularly high-ranking.

Bucky didn’t like it.

What he liked even less than that was you not answering his texts or calls.

What was worse than that…was the brief flicker across Natasha’s face when he said you weren’t answering and then the increasing agitation she tried to hide as they flew back to the Compound. She hid it but he saw it. He saw it and she refused to say anything.

Steve and Sam were noticeably off about it as well. Yet instead of not saying anything they tried to reassure him. That…was the worst.

“She’s probably just…busy.” Steve said and gestured with his hands, one more at Sam to help him come up with something else to say.

“Probably digging out another old recipe to torture us with. She didn’t answer me back for four hours when she was working on that cake.”

“It’s been 3 days.” Bucky said and he shut his mouth.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Buck.” Steve said as reassuringly as he could.

It didn’t work.

“She’s not gonna go running off and get into trouble.” He added and Bucky nodded.

“No. She’s not you.” He agreed but they all frowned and looked on in shock when they landed and saw a beaten, slightly charred, and bloodied Tony there to greet them, “What happened?”

“Well, funny thing really. It was like that whole mission you went on was a distraction to get the most HYDRA informed people as far away as possible.”

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, his mind racing with everything that could have happened, how injured you could be, if you were alive, who did it, what he would do if they hurt you, and so much more that it took Steve’s hand on his shoulder to stop the thoughts from spiraling darker.

“Well…” Tony started, knowing who he was talking about as they all knew about his attachment to you, “Uh…we…don’t…really know. Her tracker keeps pinging to a location in Jersey…”

“So why haven’t you gone there to find her?” Sam asked, pointedly glancing at Bucky as his face went blank and he twitched.

“We have. She’s not there. The tracker isn’t there either. Can’t find it.” Tony answered and Steve spoke.

“Why does she have a tracker, Tony?” he asked, rather pointedly as he held Tony’s gaze.

It was accusatory. Bucky knew why. They all did. Tony had habits. Ones that did not sit well with Steve Rogers and they’d clashed over it more than once.

This wasn’t the time for it right now.

“I don’t care why she has one, why isn’t it where she is?” Bucky asked.

“Thank you. See? Barnes knows his priorities.” Tony said to him, fully accepting the escape tunnel Bucky gave him from answering, “We were hoping Nat could tell us. She knows our little psycho archivist the best. Two peas in a pod. You might have the hots for her, Barnes, but Romanoff knows her far better.”

They all looked at Natasha. Bucky was too worried to deny what Tony said or to even get flustered at it. He needed answers.

Now.

“Well it depends on where in Jersey it took you and what happened here.” She answered and Tony nodded.

He went on to describe the incident. Just as they arrived at the HYDRA base communications shut down and the alarms regarding some of the more sensitive contents of the archives started blaring. The base was indeed meant as a distraction and the target HYDRA had set its sights on happened to be situated in the Archives.

Since losing SHEILD they lost not only a substantial part of their access to intel but several items that they were very interested in retrieving. The HYDRA base was not the only distraction they set up to achieve their mission in retrieving what they wanted. Several were initiated over the course of several hours that kept Tony, Clint, Bruce, and every other Avenger quite occupied and the compound quite not occupied.

“So you left the compound undefended?” Steve asked bluntly.

“No. I sent the kid here to keep an eye on things and there’s several people we’re still trying to get the webbing off of to question. I warned him ahead of time to make sure they couldn’t bite down on anything, he did, but he was the one to head down and find that they were after the archives. Most of the archivists were in the safe room. Three were not. You already know who one of them was. One of the others was Reggie Smith. We found him later tied to a tree stump further up the river and gagged with a note pinned to him.” Tony explained, “Apparently he’s a mole. Not for HYDRA exactly but for a company working with HYDRA out of Idaho since the 70s. He swears he didn’t know it was going to cause an incident with HYDRA and begged me not to tell any of you, particularly the Manchurian Candidate here…and he was sobbing something about pigs.”

“Who’s the other archivist missing?” Nat asked with a calm and amused smile.

“Shelly ‘Contraband Bra’ Duty. She dropped her tracker in Yonkers so I’m not sure where she is either. We’re running scans on every camera in the tristate area to track down both, but…it’d be faster if Nat could just tell us.”

“Where in Jersey?”

“A really creepy old family theme park. Stuff of nightmares.” Tony answered and she nodded, “Know it?”

“Yep.” She said and started walking back towards the jet, “You run the security footage?”

“They cut the main feed but the backups caught everything.” Tony said as he followed her along with Steve, Sam and Bucky.

“What it’d show?” Sam asked as he glanced at Tony warily, “She alright?”

“I need to give her a raise and question our resident spy a bit more next time I hire one of her friends.” He said and handed over a tablet while Steve just chuckled knowingly.

Bucky looked at the screen as Sam hit play and watched. He was worried. It didn’t get better watching the video.

You were sitting at your desk working when the sirens went off. You didn’t panic, you just sighed. Bucky knew that sigh immediately. You were annoyed. Not scared, not worried, just annoyed and it only grew as Reggie snuck out from the doorway.

You didn’t say anything to him, you just reached into your desk and pulled out a pistol, loaded it with a dart, and calmly shot him with it, dropping him face first onto the hard floor. The look on your face was one of pure annoyance, especially as you pulled out a different gun and loaded a clip into it before hitting print on the computer. The sirens blared in the background as you took the papers, folded them, and tucked them into your pocket.

“What…the…she is way too comfortable with this.” Sam said and Natasha laughed.

“Knowing her it’ll get better.” She said and Sam looked at Bucky as Bucky looked at him while watching the video continue.

You hoisted Reggie up, slinging his arm around your shoulder as Shelly and a group of HYDRA soldiers showed up just as the archive doors all bolted shut and locked down. Bucky watched, worried, and then stared in complete shock as you spoke to them. In Russian.

“Hail HYDRA. This idiot tripped the back up alarms and got darted before I dragged him out. He knows nothing of the plans, but he’ll serve as a suitable distraction to lead them away.”

“You’re lying. You’re not a known operative.” Shelly replied warily and you rolled your eyes.

“This is why you continue to fail in rising in the ranks. You don’t pay attention to details. Two. Needle. Sugar. Wire. Five. Sunny. Homer. Poseidon.” You replied and the other soldiers lowered their weapons and saluted as Shelly’s jaw dropped.

“You’re Echidna.”

“Obviously I’m Echidna.”

“Then why did you stop me from getting the recipe!”

“Because it was obvious and done sloppy. You’re lucky I didn’t eliminate you as a result for your lack of discipline. It was shameful to see how little you pay attention to details. Every detail matters! That fool Pierce didn’t think details mattered! His hubris cost us nearly everything! What fool doesn’t think the detail of our prized asset being the former best friend of that goody goody Captain America was a detail worth paying attention to? See where that got us?! Sloppy and I’ve had to spend far too much time taking matters into my own hands. Now move. Stark will be sending in the annoying pubescent spider child soon. You three. See that he does not follow while we arrange for a delay.”

“Yes, Grand Mistress!” the soldiers replied, saluting you again, and Natasha snickered.

“What is she saying?” Sam asked and Bucky answered, “No…no way she’s HYDRA.”

“Please tell me there’s more.” Natasha said with a smile at Tony and he nodded swiping the screen to the next video.

Shelly was in complete awe. Rattling on and on about how honored she was to be in your presence. You just nodded, dragging Reggie along until having to go through a door. You handed him over to Shelly. She nearly dropped him and you just shook your head disgusted before taking him back once the door was open.

She apologized and when Peter came into the screen she followed your lead, “There’s a bunch of them in the archives trying to get through the doors!”

“Is he alright?” Peter asked and you nodded.

“He’s fine. We’re taking him out of harm’s way. The med bay’s locked tight. I never finished my tasks down in Archives and something was rattling around in the vents.” You said to him, shifting Reggie’s weight onto your shoulder towards Shelly.

“Mira still in HQ? I thought I heard the emergency meeting call.” Peter said and you nodded.

“Yeah. Alarms went off. We’re headed out that way for a safe ejection from the danger.” You replied and he nodded before swinging off and Natasha snickered again.

“I knew getting them to play that game was a good idea.” She said while laughing and Tony sighed.

“You corrupted my kid.” He said and she rolled her eyes, “That’s the last video we have, though.”

Sam just shook his head. Beyond frustrated and confused.

“So why is she in New Jersey? Now I know she can take care of herself. To a point. She’s friends with you and you say she can, Steve doesn’t worry too much about her, Thor is afraid of her, Loki likes her, and the list goes on down the line until you get to the cyborg here who is practically in love with her…even if he looks as confused as I am. How is she so calm? Please tell me she’s not really HYDRA.” Sam asked before Bucky could and Natasha answered.

“No, she’s not HYDRA, but that’s what her line of research is. Top to bottom.”

“After what happened with Fury, Pierce…everything…I wanted to know more without anyone really knowing I was looking into it.” Tony explained and gestured at Natasha, “I needed someone that knew how to handle themselves and how to protect things at the time. Nat recommended our little psycho librarian so I hired her to do that and put her on the job researching things once I learned she’s fluent in Russian, German, and Crazy.”

“So that’s why you have a tracker on her?” Steve asked and Tony shook his head.

“No, and she knows about it. She agreed to keep it after she found it. She probably told Shelly about it to gain trust.”

“Likely.” Natasha agreed, “She’s not stupid and she’s highly manipulative. She takes her job seriously no matter what it is even if you think she doesn’t.”

“But why New Jersey?” Sam asked again and she smiled.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to see, I want to know.” Bucky said and she just smiled more, “Nat, c’mon. My head’s starting to hurt.”

“You’re ruining my fun, Barnes, but fine. The fun park belonged to one of her former bosses. Irish mafia. She was hired on as security for his daughter and saved her life from a runaway donut truck. He’s retired now. Has a flower shop in Queens, but he gifted her the fun park as a reward for saving his daughter’s life because it’s a safe house. Knowing her…she’s got Shelly locked in a closet while she’s watching a movie. She has a bigger screen in there than Tony does.”

“What?” Tony asked, staring as they all did, even Steve.

“I did not know about the safe house.”

“But you knew she worked for the Irish mob?!” Sam asked and Steve nodded, “And you’re okay with that?!”

“She’s not now.” He said and Sam just looked at Bucky then shook his head.

“Forget I asked.”

“What’s this have to do with me?” Bucky scowled and several minutes later was looking at the dilapidated, run down, and rusted remains of a family fun park with the others.

“Where’s the clown with the bloody knife?” Sam asked as he looked around, “I know there’s one here somewhere. This place screams ‘murder clown’.”

Bucky couldn’t even argue with him. He wanted to. Oh, he wanted to, but he just couldn’t.

Because it did.

Even though he recognized the style of everything as being very reminiscent of his and Steve’s childhoods, it screamed “there’s a psychopath with a kitchen knife hiding around the next corner”. Chipped paint on rusted metal. A soft, gentle, eerie creaking of a loose hinge in the wind. Dried up leaves blowing in the wind. Empty, falling down concession stands. Graffiti sprayed ride walls. Dark doorways where the door was hanging from the hinges rocking in the breeze.

He didn’t want to agree with Sam. Not one bit. Bucky just couldn’t help it.

“So how do we get in?” Tony asked as they followed Natasha through the horrorscape she had brought them to.

She wasn’t even phased. It didn’t surprise Bucky. It didn’t surprise anyone. Not with her. They’d have been surprised if they’d have been surprised.

“It’s accessed under the merry go round.” she answered and Sam raised his eyebrows at the structure up ahead.

“You mean the thing with the melted unicorns painted with blood red horns and fangs on it that looks like it’s a gateway to the nether realm?” he asked and she nodded.

“That’s the one.” She said and stepped up onto the platform and to the center column where she accessed a secret panel and punched in a long alphanumerical code.

They watched the center column open up wider, revealing a set of stairs down. She just smiled as they stared and gestured at them to head on in. They did so, in Sam’s case a bit reluctantly.

Three quarters of the way down they heard a high-pitched scream. Sam jumped. They all did but Bucky recognized it. Not as yours, but as the kind he’d heard back before the war in dimly lit movie theatres where Boris Karloff was on the screen.

Tinny, brassy, classic horror music played down the corridor as they stepped into it. It was long, clean, and grey-painted concrete, but it was nothing like what was above them. Mostly.

A door next to them began mumbling and thumping. A body slamming against it. Hard.

“What the fuck?” Sam asked as they looked at it and Natasha looked at the keypad on it before typing in a code.

A disheveled, muddy, tear-stained, gagged, and broken-heeled Shelly burst out of it onto the floor. She was bruised. Mostly by her own doing and gagged with what looked to have been Reggie’s tie. A tooth was missing from her mouth.

“G-gghaahh! Ga-aaggh!” She gurgled past the spit-soaked fabric up at them as they looked down at her.

“Hello, Shelly.” Tony greeted and she looked at him, “Where is Y/N?”

“Aaaaaahhhhh!” she responded, shaking her head rapidly, “Nnaa naaa naa nnaaa naaa!”

“Damn…what did she do to you?” Sam asked her and she shook her head more, her hair coming undone from its bun and flapping against the floor, leaving more muddy streaks.

“Uh uh! Uh uh! Ooery! Ooery!” she sobbed and Natasha just shook her head and looked down the hallway as the ending credit music stopped and they heard a popcorn machine, “AAHhhh! Cmmin’! Geggie!”

“Whatever your girlfriend did to her…it was fucked up.” Sam said to Bucky and he just blinked, not exactly sure how to process it.

He was torn between being impressed, curious, and worried. Whatever you had done had obviously worked. Shelly was HYDRA, maybe not the best, but she was still HYDRA and whatever you had done had broken her in ways HYDRA likely couldn’t.

Or at least in ways they never thought to try.

That itself was a bit…worrying.

Yet Bucky couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at how you handled the situation and yourself. He wanted to pick it apart, find a reason to yell at you for putting yourself in danger. Yet…in a way…you hadn’t.

You manipulated your way out of a dangerous situation, took down two agents, and removed yourself to somewhere you knew was safe. It wasn’t like you stuck around to fight off an incursion. You had gotten up and removed yourself to safety. Like he had told you to do.

He knew perfectly well that hiding under your desk would not have helped in that situation. Protocol during situations like that were also for civilian members of staff to get to a safe room or get out as fast as they could. You had technically done both.

He stepped over Shelly to make his way down the hallway. The others could deal with her. He needed to find you. To see you were alright.

He followed the sound of the popcorn machine to a room with an old sign over it that read: Theater Room. Bucky opened it. Then he blinked.

It was exactly what it said it was. It wasn’t set up exactly as a modern one but an older one. In the corner stood a popcorn machine…and you. You also happened to have a gun pointed at him.

The emotionless, blank, and fully ready to pull the trigger look in your eyes instantly eased out when you spotted it was him. So did all the tension from your body. Even as he made his way over to you with a glower set on his face shaking his head you just relaxed and set the gun down on the counter next to you.

“Hey, Bucky.” You greeted him as he marched his way over, steel blue eyes boring into yours, and you knew you were in trouble because you couldn’t figure out what was running through his mind.

He was just focused on you as if mentally chanting that he was going to get you. All you knew was that he wasn’t going to hurt you. Bucky would never do that and you knew it.

So when he reached you and pulled you into his arms, you didn’t tense up, you just relaxed into him more. Especially as he just held you against him, enveloping you with his frame. His arms around you, his chin on your head, tucking you against him as he let out a relieved sigh.

You felt his body relax as you wrapped your arms back around him, silently reassuring him that you were alright. That you were there. That you trusted him.

He was silent, just holding you, his left arm wrapped around your waist securely while the other one gently caressed your head. You knew he had been worried. You knew he would have been from the moment you left, but you did what he had told you to do the day he had brought you coffee.

“If HYDRA ever comes…just…promise me you’ll get out and as far away as you can.” He said, looking at you, serious, and you nodded, and you meant it.

“I promise, Bucky.”

“I’m okay, Bucky. I promise. I’m okay. She broke my phone at one point and I lost hers somewhere in the woods. The phones here don’t work anymore either or I’d have called.” You said and he nodded as he looked down at you, searching your face for any signs of injury or you playing anything down; it just made you smile up at him, “I’m right here, Buck. Safe and sound. Though if you ask Shelly I very much am not of sound mind.”

He let out a soft huff as his lips curled upwards, his right hand gently caressing your jaw and face. It felt good, warm, sweet, and soothing. So soothing and you let yourself relax into it and into him more.

Bucky knew it wasn’t often you did this. You didn’t just relax into anyone or let them see past the indifferent façade you put up. You didn’t have to say it. He knew you were as happy and relieved to see him as he was to see you.

You were, too. Three days hoping he was alright. Three days hoping everything was going to be alright. Three days getting as much information out of Shelly as you could.

She figured out you weren’t the Grand Mistress before you got to the park. She put up a bit of a fight. Yet it was clear she had never been trained to fight in heels on uneven and soggy ground.

Neither were you but you at least had the sense to kick them off before slamming her head into a tree by her hair. It was raining at the time. You were both covered in mud by the time you knocked her out.

You were so filthy you looked like you were just born from the mud pit in Isengard the Uruk Hai were birthed from. The sight of you, and the sight of you dragging an unconscious blonde bimbo by the foot through the mud was enough to scare the absolute shit out of a group of teenagers. If you weren’t just completely done with the entire ordeal you probably would have laughed.

You didn’t, though. You were too exhausted to do anything other than drag her to the carousel and into the safehouse where you tied her up and shoved her in the first closet with a keypad on it.

Then you took a bath. Then you started a movie marathon. Mostly to keep your mind off of things. Like Bucky. You knew the tracker would lead them to you eventually. You just needed to wait and stay calm…and not think about Bucky.

“I was…I was so worried.” He said softly and you nodded even as you reached up to gently hold his head in your hands.

“I know. I was, too, but I’m alright. Are you alright?” you asked and Bucky nodded.

“Yeah. I’m alright. Now. I mean…I have a lot of questions about all of this, but I’m alright.” He replied and you smiled up at him, just happy he was there and alright and with you, letting him see that you were when he looked down at you.

At least until you heard the door open again and Steve walked in with Natasha. Then the walls went back up. You liked Steve; Natasha was effectively your best female friend, but you only ever let Bucky see straight in. That was his and as he smiled it was clear that he knew it was his and his alone.

“Which one is this?” Natasha asked as she gestured at the screen and Bucky looked at it as the opening credits started.

“The Return of Doctor X.” You answered, “Mister Mickey loaded this place with pretty much every classic movie from the 30s and 40s before he turned it over to me.”

“Your old boss?” Steve asked and you shook your head.

“Nah. His dad. He forbids me from calling him Mister O’Malley, so I call him Mister Mickey. I’m not arguing with a 100-year-old former mobster that still knows how to wire things.” You answered and he and Bucky looked at you, “What?”

“You worked for O’Malley?” Bucky asked and you nodded.

“I worked for his son. Mickey Junior. He’s retired now from that. He took over the florist shop Mister Mickey ran…even if Mister Mickey is still in there every single day yelling at him about how he’s not doing it right.” You answered and they looked at you, “What?”

“They’re both over 100. You argue with them.” Natasha pointed out curiously, and you shrugged.

“Well, yeah. They don’t count. Steve was a human Bomb Pop for like 60 years and Bucky was the human equivalent of a Freeze Pak. Put it in the freezer, take it out, have it make something cold, put it back in the freezer before it thaws too much. They don’t count as over 100.”

Steve just started laughing as he shook his head. From amusement or exasperation, you didn’t know. You were leaning towards amusement.

“A human Bomb Pop? Really?” he asked and Bucky looked at him.

“Well at least you’re edible.”

“I bite those things in half. You want me to bite you in half or would you rather be the thing I want up against my aching body parts?” You asked him and he nodded.

“You got a point.” He replied and they looked as Sam and Tony walked in, Tony whistling at the set up.

“I pay you too much.” He said and you looked at him.

“After what I went through and prevented for you I want a raise.” You retorted and he nodded.

“Deal��but I want to reoutfit this place so it’s…a bit more up to speed. What is this? A bomb shelter from the 50s?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes. Cold war ended and they outfitted it into a safehouse and then they outfitted it into…a place to send their kids so they wouldn’t go into clubs to get in trouble or abducted. Only thing fully updated in here is the kitchen. Plumbing sucks. It could definitely use an upgrade, but this place is mine. I change that and you’ll have a centenarian ex-assassin that isn’t named Bucky Barnes sending you flowers with surprises. I’ve already had to talk him down from talking to Bucky.”

“He remembers me?” Bucky asked and you nodded with a little smile.

“Mhmm…I’ve heard aaaallll about you…and his sister…and her friends…and their friends…and their sisters…” you replied and he looked at you wide eyed opening his mouth to explain before shutting it and then opening it a few times, trying to think of what to say.

You let him sweat about it a bit.

“He also remembers Steve and still laughs anytime he sees a picture of him because he can’t stop thinking of him as ‘that scrawny punk that didn’t know when to just shut up’.” You said and patted his chest as Tony helped himself to the popcorn, “I assured him that you are a perfect gentleman and that you regularly help chase ungentlemanly men away from me so I don’t get in trouble for punching them. That soothed him enough to not want to ‘talk’ to you. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed about not getting to watch him threaten you or not.”

“Why’d you stop working for them?” Tony asked and you answered as he sat himself down in one of the chairs.

“Katherine got married and moved across the country shortly after the donut truck incident. I didn’t want to move to the land of Bigfoot so I chose to retire about the same time Junior did. I was a bridesmaid at her wedding where I ended up throwing her ex-best friend out of the reception and into the water hazard of the golf club it was at.

“I also broke her cheating ass ex-boyfriend’s fingers and kicked him in after her when he tried to ‘handle’ me. Then Mickey the third came out and sent me back in to calm Mister Mickey and Junior down. I’m sure you can imagine what they wanted to do to the two people that broke their princess’s heart to little shattered pieces before her new husband picked them up and glued them back together. I had to calm him down, too.

“When I tell you I understand how hard it was for Bucky to manage pre-buff Steve…he’s why. Billy is a scrawny twig man that will fight anything that upsets Katherine. Even if it can pummel him into the ground. The next day they gave me this place and a great severance package for my exemplary service.”

“You two…” Sam said and gestured to you and Bucky several times, “Belong together. You’re both crazy.”

“Yeah…but at least we aren’t boring.” You countered and grabbed some popcorn, “Now shut up, I wanna watch this.”

“Alright.” He said and as soon as everyone was sat down, you had a thought.

“What did you do with Shelly?”

“Nat put her back in the closet.” Tony answered and you nodded.

“What did you do to her?” Sam asked you and you looked at him slowly, silently, blinking blankly, “Or do I not want to know?”

“Did you see the haunted fun house on the way in?” You asked and he shook his head slowly, “Well…that’s what I did to her. I put her in there…and locked her in it for twelve hours. Not my fault she’s gullible. Besides. She ruined my favorite shirt. I’ll never get the mud out of it.”

“Shh. Movie.” Bucky said, pointing at the screen with a popcorn box in his hand.

“Fine.” Sam sighed and sat back with everyone to watch the screen.

Bucky’s left arm was around the back of your seat for a few minutes. Eventually it slid down to pull you against his side. You couldn’t help smiling as he did or at how the cool metal of his fingers felt gliding over your arm gently. It was just an absent reminder that he was there and that you were there with him. Silent comfort for you both.

About halfway through the movie he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, just next to your ear before whispering into it, “You still owe me dessert, doll, but maybe I should take you out to dinner first so I don’t get sent flowers.”

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A/N: Like I said at the start I'm working on something else. It's much larger and a lot different. It'll be in 3rd POV with a named OC. Something of a what if rewrite of Winter Soldier. As of posting this it's about 26k words in length, I still don't know where I'm stopping it, and I have plans of going back in and adding more while editing once the skeleton is done. I may post up the master list/summary/general gist of thing for it I may not.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I love the likes, I'd love to hear from you, too.

[allhailthe70shousewife]

Remember that Banana Oat Bread recipe I posted? Well I worked on it a bit. Now I double it and make two rather different loaves…

Spiced Fruit and Banana Cocoa Breakfast Breads

This recipe makes two loaves of breakfast bread. Neither of these are very sweet. I created them because I was tired of eating oatmeal porridge every morning. They are high in fiber, low in saturated fat and sugar, and have a bit of protein.

8 mashed bananas

1 egg beaten into ¾ cup lowfat cottage cheese with non fat milk poured in to make up a cup mixture

2 Tbsp vanilla

4 Tbps sugar

4 Tbsp molasses

1&½ Tbsp cold coffee

½ Tbsp cinnamon

½ Tbsp ground ginger

2&1/2 Tbsps cocoa powder

2 tsp baking soda

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

½ cup flour

1 cup whole old fashioned oats

1&½ cups oat flour (I make this by blitzing whole, old fashioned oats with a hand blender until it is the texture of a rough flour)

4 Tbsp avocado oil

½ cup walnuts, chopped

1 roasted peach or nectarine, chopped

¾ cup mixed frozen berries

Whisk together oat flour, flour, whole oats, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and chopped walnuts. Separate this mixture into equal halves and set aside.

Mix together the mashed bananas, the egg/cottage cheese/ milk mixture, vanilla, sugar and molasses. Separate this mixture into equal halves in a pair of large bowls. In one bowl add cold coffee and cocoa powder (and a dash of cinnamon if you like). Into the other bowl add roasted peach or nectarine, cinnamon and ginger.

Add the dry flour mixtures to each of your wet mixtures and gently fold together. Before you finish mixing the spiced fruit batter add your frozen berries. Add 2 Tbsp of avocado oil to each mixture. Do not over mix. Add the batters to 2 loaf pans or square 9x9 pans that have been lightly greased.

Bake these at 350, giving them a half turn at 15 minutes. Check them at 30 minutes. If you are cooking in a 9x9 pan your bread will be done quicker. You may have to bake these for 45 to 50 minutes. It should be set and a tester should come out with a few crumbs but not wet. Let these cool in the pan and then turn out.

Next time I make these I think I will add roasted cherries to the Banana Cocoa better. Will let you guys know how it works out.

[thr4shit]

Streusel Coffee Cake recipe!!

Enjoy !!!!

@smolfrosted you wanted it right?

Batter:

1 ½ c. all-purpose flour

¾ c. granulated sugar

2 t. baking powder

½ t. salt

1 egg, beaten

½ c. milk

¼ c. cooking oil

Topping:

¼ c. brown sugar

1 T. all-purpose flour

1 T. butter, softened

1 t. ground cinnamon

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees and grease your pan.

2. Stir together the 1 ½ c. flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, and salt.

3. Measure milk. Measure oil. Combine egg, milk, and oil and whisk together.

4. Add to flour mixture; mix well with a spoon.

DO NOT use a whisk as it will over mix this batter.

5. Put into greased 9x9x2” pan. (If you do not have this size pan you can double the recipe and use a 9 x 13 cake pan or use a round pan.)

6. Using pastry blender (Alternatives: two forks, two butter knives, or your hands) combine brown sugar, 1 T. flour, butter, and cinnamon in a bowl; sprinkle over batter. Do not over mix this topping it will sink to the bottom of the cake. (It will still taste good though)

7. Bake in a 375 degree oven for about 25 minutes.

Optional Glaze:

½ cup powdered sugar

2T milk

OPTIONAL GLAZE: Mix powdered sugar and 2T milk together in a bowl. Pour over coffee cake.

[hawnks]

Continuation of this

Pietro clutches at her skirts, but reels back obediently when she smacks his desperate hands.

“Please, my sweet,” he begs, trailing after her, resisting the urge to grab her again. “Please talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Kelsi doesn’t deign to look at him, simply storms through the estate — a historic castle that had been rather beautiful before her death — hunting down any scrap of her old life.

Her satchel and carpetbag are still in the downstairs closet, exactly where she left them. Even the contents is untouched, a few crumpled receipts and an expired granola bar buried inside.

She grabs both, and the big, red rain coat. Pietro always used to hide candies in the pockets; she stops herself for checking for one.

When she emerges from the closet, he’s directly behind her, so close she can see the tears budding in his eyes, not yet fallen. She doesn’t soothe him—she won’t.

The kitchen is dilapidated. She can’t find anything edible, only food so spoiled it can hardly be considered food at all, and a staggering amount of coffee grounds. Maybe he’d been surviving on caffeine alone, these past years.

“Please,” he tries again. “Kelsi, please?”

“You know my thoughts, Doctor.” She pushes past him, up the stairs to the second floor. The boards creak miserably under her weight, untreated, in poor condition. “I am very, very, very upset with you.”

Despite the derelict condition of the rest of the castle, her room could almost be considered clean. There’s a fine layer of dust on most of the surfaces, but it’s clear that the bedding has been washed somewhat recently, the curtains beaten to get rid of the worst of the residue buildup.

Her wardrobes contents is different, although not how she would expect. New clothes, garments shes never seen before, are hung amidst the rest. They’re soft to the touch, don’t show the signs of deterioration and rigidity that come with neglect.

Pietro had regularly washed each each of them by hand, ironing them carefully before returning them to their rightful place. He wasn’t sure why. During the first few months, he thought she should be comfortable, when she returns. Soon enough he hardly thought at all. It was more of a ritual, a lower-brain habit, to tend to her things, to hunt for any remnants of her scent among the items, to imagine her, vital and alive in these spaces.

She understands this, somehow, without a word. Another exhibit of the madness that consumed him in her absence. Grimacing, she starts shoving fistfuls of fabric into her bag, indiscriminately.

At the bottom, tucked away in the corner, is a pair of boots. Pretty, but functional, fine, embroidered details and treated leather.

The night before she died, she’d complained about her feet aching. They’d surveyed the entire surrounding woods, an arduous endeavor that left her exhausted, sore. He’d gifted her a warm balm, of his own recipe. Awkward as he placed it into her hands; he’d wanted to rub it into her tender muscles himself, she could see the desire in him. But it was a line neither of them had ever broached, a delicate, tremulous thing.

He’d pulled her out of deadly mires. She’d plucked poison barbs from his skin. They’d both risked their lives and reputations for each other, again and again. They knew one another better than anyone. At times it seemed like they could read each other down to the flickering soul.

And yet, there was another distance impossible to broach. Not due to lack of courage, but careful sensibility. It required investigation, a steady hand. Whatever it was between them, it often felt as fragile as spiders silk.

Now it was snapped, forever.

Kelsi shoves into the boots, swallowing down her distaste. It was this, or go barefoot on her journey. She snaps her bags closed. She’s ready to be gone.

Pietro stands in doorway, preventing this.

His head is bowed, fearful of her gaze, but even hunched his height is imposing. She always thought of his as a sproutish man, lean and lanky, but facing him now she’s not sure she could beat him, physically.

“Can you please—“ he bites his lip. “Can’t you be very, very, very upset with me here? Where you’re safe? Where I can see you?”

Kelsi just breathes for a moment. She’s so incensed her rage has surpassed physical revile; she’s only focused on undoing what’s been done, now. “No,” she tells him.

She takes a step forward. And another. They’re toe to toe, and she can almost feel his heart beating, a rabbit-quick pulse. His cheeks flush.

He presses himself into the doorframe, letting her pass. Yielding.

He falls in stride behind her. “Dearest, please. Things are not as you remember them.”

“I know,” she snaps. “You did that.”

His fingers brush her sleeve, cautious but beseeching. “Where are you going?”

“To get them out. I will extract them. Somehow.”

It takes a moment for her to realize Pietro is no longer right behind her. He’s paused in the center of the lobby, staring at her. His expression is hard to decipher, agony and confusion and something without a name.

“You can’t,” he says. She can barely hear it.

“I’m certain I’ll find a way. If there’s any trace of them left in me, I will pluck it out.”

“You can’t,” he says again, louder. “You’ll die.”

She shakes her head. “I already did.”

The great door was never her first choice for access. It’s twice her size, and so heavy she has to throw her entire weight against the wood to budge it. Pietro is saying something to her, but she can’t make it out, too focused on escaping his madness to try.

Finally, the door rocks open.

On the other side is a giant, bloodwasp.

The creatures, roughly the size of a toddler and infinitely more dangerous, had all but vanished from the estate and its surroundings after Pietro’s carnivorous plants took root. Kelsi hadn’t seen one for years after she moved in.

She’s certainly not prepared to deal with one, now.

In her shock she doesn’t hear the click of the bullet in the chamber, but the sound of it firing her knocks her to the ground.

The wasp falls too, dead, a perfect shot through the eye.

Pietro rushes to the door, shutting it quickly. Beyond him, Kelsi spots the thrumming bodies of at least three more wasps. Who knows what their numbers are, how many lurk outside.

Pietro sinks to his knees at her side, bundling her up with an arm around her shoulders, a look of ardent concern on his face. In his other hand, the revolver is still steaming.

“I meant to tell you that the roads are no longer safe,” he says, “but you wouldn’t listen. Now, let’s talk about this like civilized adults.”

But he makes no move to release her. Simply holds her there, against his chest, reveling in skin that’s warm again.

Weakly, Kelsi asks, “Dr. Pragma, where did a scholar learn to shoot like that?”

[ruins-and-rewritez]

DAY 5: SPICE: Wesper

The kettle releases a unearthly high pitched scream and Jesper essentially leaps over the counter before it can be noticed by any one else. Stealth is absolutely neccessary if he is going to complete this mission unnoticed.

He sticks his head into the hallway for a moment, searching for any signs of life, left to right and back in quick succession. Glancing right is a pointless endeavour since the only room on that end is a dusty storage compartment that even he hasn't visited in his time here but better safe than sorry.

He ducks back into the safety of the kitchen, determined to finish the task quickly before Wylan notices that he hasn't been by to bother him for hours. (Something unheard of with Jesper's constant energy and need to make sure that his boyfriend didn't accidently blow himself up when he was distracted polishing his pistols)

Jesper taps his fingers impatiently on the counter, counting the seconds needlessly as there's a clock hanging on the wall not five feet away, but being off by even a second could result in a disaster.

When the minute finally inches its way to seven past six, he steps quickly toward the oven, reaching out to grab the handle, hissing when he singes his fingertips. The pains of being in a constant state of overeagerness.

With the door open, hands gripping potholders this time, Jesper carefully manuevers the pan off the rack and settles it on the counter beside the other steaming dishes.

His practicing with Marya must be paying off to some extent because everything he's made at least appears to be edible, a far cry from their first attempt when he'd pulled a charred black log of something that was once mixed ingredients out of the oven's depths.

He smiles at the memory, neither of them held any particular skill in the kitchen but the mutual need to have something distracting was enough to get them to take a shot at cooking and baking recipes from unused books while Wylan was off locked up in his lab trying to somehow make explosions more efficent.

"Jes?"

"In here," he calls back hurrying to pull a set of china plates from the cupboard.

Jesper stands beside the counter, busying his hands with transfering food from pots and pans to the plates, trying to make it look more appeatizing then it is, while he waits for Wylan to make the trek from the sunroom to the kitchen.

"What's all this."

He turns to see Wylan in the doorway, head tilted curiously like a puppy or maybe a kitten, goggles still in place holding back his curls, a smudge of indeterminate origins streaked over his left cheek, his one sleeve singed and flaking. Adorable.

"I made dinner."

Wylan blinks surprised, before asking, "this isn't going to be like New Years' is it?"

They both cringe at the memory, he'd tried to make everyone breakfast last New Years Day after they'd spent half the night drinking the alcohol Nina and Matthias had brought back from Ravka and a suspicious drink from home that Colm would only refer to as 'an old secret family recipe' that Jesper highly suspected was actually a special brew from old man Raken who used to live down the road aways.

It had been a bountiful feast of burnt toast, watery coffee, and scrambled eggs seasoned with salt, pepper, and the timeless addition of crunchy shells. The only thing that had managed to be unpoisoned was the bowl of apples he'd brought upon from the cellar.

Jesper swallowed nervously, "I sure hope not," he admitted.

Whatever reservations he had, Wylan still allowed him to lead him over table and place the plate before him.

He was tentive in his movements, not quite sure whether or not he wanted to risk it, but eventually he gave in. Jesper watched on as he led a slice of beef into his mouth.

Wylan paused, eyes widening, before continuing to chew. "I can't believe you made this."

Jesper beamed, proud he had finally beaten the odds against his ability to cook. He settled in his chair and cut off a sample for himself. Hmm. It was good.

They chatted in between bites. Wylan was finally making progress on what he called "Inferni in a can", the final product would be a miniture cannister, about the size of your thumb, that when set alight and thrown into the desired area, would cause a blast of fire that could burn down the space of a small building.

Jesper told him how he'd almost caught his pant leg on fire while he was cooking when he'd added a log to the flames and spark flew out and landed on the cuff, he showed the small hole it'd made before he'd managed to put it out.

Finally, the plates empty, save the last dregs of the sauce he'd made for the meat and potatoes, Jesper got up to grab the desert. Pumpkin bread and a frothy, buttery cream that he'd whipped up.

He cut them each a slice, regaling Wylan with a tale of how he'd run into a member of the Council at the store earlier (quite literally) and how the old man had been dragging himself along behind his wife like a petulant child who'd been denied chocolate muttering an exsasperated 'yes dear' everytime she'd added another thing to her list.

Wylan smiled and commented along the way, lifting the bread for a bite, when Jesper took the conversation over again.

He let out a cough, then another, soon becoming red face as his lungs tried to dispell whatever bacteria had invade their domain.

"Wy?"

"Water," he managed to choke out.

Jesper rushed to the pump over the sink, filling the glass until it overflowed and spilled on his shoes, before hurrying back.

Wylan grasped the cup desperately and brought it to his mouth, taking long gulps, draining it before he could finally breath again.

"What the hell is in that," he rasped pointing at the bread lying on his plate accused.

Jesper wrinkled his brow, "pumpkin, eggs, water, sugar, cinnamon-"

"What's in there that is so fucking spicy?"

Now Jesper was really confused, he'd followed the recipe, adding the ingredients and stirring and pooring and baking. "I don't..."

"Show me what you used."

He led him over to the counter where the dry ingredients still sat uniformly beside the sink.

Wylan picked up the containers one by one eventually stopping on the can of ground cinnamon. His shoulders began shaking and for a moment Jesper was truly afraid he'd upset him to the point of tears.

Wylan turned putting the can into the other man's hand, "Jesper what does this say."

Jesper held it up and read the label, "100% pure ground cayanne pep- oh-"

Wylan started laughing. The kind that start in your belly and bubble up until they overflow.

"I'm so so sorry Wy I didn't mean I mean I'd never-"

Wylan put a finger to his lips, "maybe next time read the label." He burst into another fit a giggles at that a held onto Jesper's shoulder for support.

When he finally calmed down, he took a small step closer, "if you wanted to spice things up, there are probably better ways then almost killing me."

Jesper blinked, before his mouth pulled itself into a small smirk, "oh, well I guess I could think of a few."

~~~~

For anyone wondering how Wy could even tell what the can said, I imagine he spent lot of time in the kitchen when he was little because of the similarities between cooking and chemistry and he knows most of the ingredients by the size and shape of their containers, in this case he knows that cinnamon is in a medium, square can as opposed to the medium, circular one that holds the actual spice like pepper and paprika. And Jesper just saw 'ground' and assumed it was the cinnamon instead of actually reading the label

[nightraiderwrites]

The Happier Ending.

False enters home a little lost. Not physically- she has an excellent sense of direction- but emotionally. She should tie up all her loose ends, right?

The house is quiet when she walks in. Recipe books line the shelves, dirty dishes sit in the sink. A wooden pencil grip sits on the coffee table in their living room. Fading candles light the dying Christmas tree in the corner of their living room.

Pix, Pearl and Tango are asleep in their rooms. The living room is filled only with her breathing.

Pearl’s statues cast flickering shadows in the gasping light of candles. False watches as they dance across the walls, claiming the light as they prance. They almost look alive, as if trying to grasp life like it’s theirs.

Her comm sits in her inventory. The copper casing is beaten, and almost broken. Gears are soldered along the edge, and her name is carved in shaky handwriting. She is afraid to take it out.

False does it anyway.

“Hey, Tango,” she starts, hitting the record button. “Um, I know you're going to be mad, and I'm sorry. I can't do anything else, y'know?” She sucks in a breath. What is she doing? “God. God. What am I supposed to say?”  I asked him to kill me first, before you. To- hang on.”

She hears footsteps coming up the stairs. “Tango?” she asks. “ Why're you up?” He freezes in place, and fumbles his communicator out. There’s a moment of pause as he types in the dark. “...Why are you up?” reads out the text to speech voice.

False laughs quietly. “Because I can be,” she replies. He raises an eyebrow. In the dark, the candles cast an ominous shadow over face, leaving his eyes to glow red in the dark. “Okay, okay,” she says. “I was going out to the Temple. I needed to take a moment to pray to the Light for guidance.”

“You're welcome to join me.” Tango looks down, typing on his comm. “I'm going to stay inside. I'll make you some more handwriting sheets,” says the robotic voice. “Oh!” False replies. “Thank you.”

He types again, and presses enter. “Good night, Falsie.” She smiles at him. “Good night, Tango.”

Tango walks away, climbing back down the stairs.

False sniffles, and turns back to her comm.

“Okay, you're gone. Yeah, um. I just want to keep you safe.” She exhales. “I can't do anything else. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don't-” Her hand is shaking. Her chest hurts. “Jeez, this is hard. This is difficult. I know this is selfish of me.” This is the most selfish thing she’s done.

“Please forgive me. Please don't hate me. I- ack. I wish I had more time. Um, keep yourself safe. Stay happy. I-” Her voice cracks, before her last word. “Bye.”

She hits stop. Breathes. Tries not to cry. False takes a handwriting sheet and flips it over, grasping a pencil shakily. Fr ToGgo, she writes, then crosses it out. Four TongO, she spells. Her scrawl is messy and all over the page. False closes her eyes, and remembers Gem’s hand correcting hers, Lizzie’s laugh, Pix’s kind words on the page, Pearl’s coffee and Tango’s smile.

She tries again. Fore toGnO. Somehow, she thinks it's wrong, but no one is here to correct her.

~

False’s boots crunch in the snow, [The Sun] warm in her grasp. She’s left her other swords at home, because [The Cog] no longer fits in her hand, [The Compass] no longer points North and [The Vengeance] has been put aside for something far more important.

She enters the Temple of Light, and bathes in the warmth. The mural seems a little dull, and the altar a little colder. Two candles sit on it, almost ready to be replaced.

False bows to the altar, and kneels. “Good evening, your majesty,” says the Soldier of the Sun. “Are you well?” The altar, of course, does not reply. But the candles seem to flicker in response, so False smiles, a little.

“Did I do the right thing?” she asks the candles. “Should I have asked?” No response. The candles keep swaying in the evening breeze. “Forgive me,” the Soldier says. “Forgive me. I know no other way to keep moving forward.”

She lays [The Sun] in front of her, parallel to the stairs, and presses her forehead to the floor. “Forgive me,” she says again. “Have mercy on my soul.” 

The Soldier prays at the Temple for as long as she can.

Footsteps crunch in the snow behind her. The Soldier recognises the steady gait of her companion. She rises from her position, and turns to smile at him.

“Tango?” False says. He looks dazed, eyes out of focus. His mouth opens, and closes. She smiles softly at him. “You should go back to the house.” Tango’s head shakes violently. He does not move from out of the doorway.

“You’re welcome to pray with me, if you wish,” False says. Outside, the snow falls harder and harder. Wind howls, shaking the foundation of the Temple. “Tango?” He blinks, and steps shakily forward, trailing snow behind him.

Something is wrong. She can feel it. His movements are stiff, his steps stilted. The Soldier’s hand creeps towards [The Sun], lightly grasping the hilt. He keeps moving towards her. The Shield walks across the room, his movements unnatural and jerky.

Her hand is on her sword. She stands, slowly. His hands are empty. He walks until they are face to face.

The Soldier looks into The Shield’s eyes. They are blank, looking past her, into her past, maybe. His hand reaches up and covers hers.

“Tango?” False says. Her heart thunders in her ears, pulse going wild. He breathes shakily.

With speed and strength that False didn’t know Tango possessed, he rips [The Sun] from her grasp. She stumbles backwards onto the stairs as he points it at her chest. He walks forward, applying more and more pressure as she scrambles up the stairs.

“Tango-” she gasps out. She automatically goes for another sword, hoping to grasp [The Cog] or [The Compass], but her hands ghost over empty space. Right. They’re waiting at home.

The Shield that lied pushes [The Sun] into The Soldier’s sternum. Her hands flail to grip the blade, to try and stop it, but it only cuts her palms. It goes all the way in, chipping into the stairs behind her.

Blood pours from her mouth, trickling warmly down her chin and spilling from her hands. “Ha,” she says weakly. “Didn’t think it’d be you.” His eyes clear, and he releases the hilt. He kneels beside her, trying to frantically stop the bleeding.

She breathes hard, needles of pain stabbing into her lungs. False’s breathing becomes labored, oxygen struggling its way in and out of her lungs. Red stains the golden blade. “It was… foolish… of me to… trust…” she gasps out, leaning forward.

Her hands reach out, to the man with a look of horror on his face. His hands meet hers, instantly sharing their redness. Silent sobbing shakes his shoulders, sending earthquakes into False’s dying body. Tango’s mouth moves noiselessly, begging useless cries for help from the universe.

Blood splatters as she coughs. No longer able to support herself, she falls forward. False does not expect to be caught, but his arms are the protection between her and the cold stone floor.

Tears trickle from his cheeks as False looks up from his arms. She reaches a hand, still bleeding to wipe them away. Red stains his cheeks where her fingers brush skin.

False searches his face for some malice, some ill-will with slowly fading vision. The only things she finds are regret, sorrow and horror.

“It,” she starts, struggling for breath. “Ha, it wasn’t your fault, was it?” He shakes his head. His words are still stuck in his throat. “You were just… a weapon.” False breathes out, hand resting on the blade in her chest. “Like me.”

Tango mouths no, over and over. No words escape his lips. “It’s alright,” she gasps out. It’s warm, in his arms. It reminds her of better times, curled up on the couch together. “You could… never hurt me.”

His grip tightens on her hand. The edges of her lips curl up in a weak smile. “Maybe…” False starts. “In another life… another time…” Her breath slows down. It’s getting harder to breathe.

Tango’s hair is sharpening and blurring intermittently. She can see the bad dye job washing out, and the tears filling his eyes.

“I would… have… liked to see… you go home…” Someone stands over them, smiling at her. Her green eyes sparkle unnaturally. A man, with a rugged brown beard, holds a shield. He stands on her right. “Tango,” False whispers. Tears prick her eyes. It really hurts to breathe. “Tango, I’m scared.”

He rocks back and forth, in what is probably meant to be a soothing action. It only makes the sword in her chest swing. A chill pools in her chest. “Tango,” False manages. “It’s so cold. I…” There’s no feeling in her legs. Cold crawls up her body.

She smiles tiredly, soothingly, lovingly, one last time. “I’ll see you again, Tango…”

The Soldier of the Sun squeezes once, twice. Her light goes out before she can squeeze again.

.

.

.

.

.

Well, wasn’t that a twist?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[Falsesymmetry was slain by Tango using [The Sun]]

-

Haha, isn't that fun?

(Based off a game of mafia I played with my friends)

[samtec]

World's Best Chocolate Cake by Yotam Ottolenghi

Ingredients (18)

250g unsalted butter, at room temperature, cut into 1cm cubes, plus extra for greasing

200g dark (70%) chocolate, chopped into 2cm pieces

1 tsp instant coffee, dissolved in 350ml boiling water

250g white sugar

2 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten

1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

240g self-raising flour

30g Dutch cocoa powder

Chocolate ganache

200g dark (70%) chocolate, broken or chopped roughly into 2cm pieces

3/4 cup (180ml) double cream

3 tsp glucose syrup

3 tsp unsalted butter, at room temperature

>>>Get a FREE Keto Recipe Ebook Here <<<

Espresso Cinnamon Mascarpone Cream

1 1/2 cups (375ml) double cream

190g mascarpone

Seeds of 1/2 vanilla pod

2 tsp finely ground instant coffee

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

2 tbs icing sugar, sifted

Method

1.Heat oven to 170°C/150°C fan-forced. Grease a 23cm round springform pan with butter and line with baking paper.

2.To make the cake, place the butter, chocolate and hot coffee in a large heatproof bowl and mix well until everything is melted, combined and smooth. Whisk in sugar by hand until dissolved. Add eggs and vanilla extract and whisk again until thoroughly combined and smooth. Sift flour, cocoa powder and a pinch of fine salt together into a medium bowl, then whisk into the melted chocolate mixture until smooth. Batter will be liquid, but don’t think you’ve missed something; this is how it should be.

3.Pour batter into the prepared pan, tapping base of pan to remove air bubbles, and bake for 50 minutes-1 hour, until cake is cooked and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean or with just a few dry crumbs attached. The top will form a crust and crack a little, but don’t worry, this is expected. Leave the cake to cool on a wire rack for 20 minutes before removing from pan, then set aside on wire rack until completely cool.

4.Meanwhile, to make the chocolate ganache, place chocolate pieces in a food processor and whiz until fine. Set aside, keeping chocolate in food processor.

5.Combine cream and glucose syrup in a small saucepan and place over medium- high heat. As soon as bubbles begin to appear (just before it comes to a boil), remove from the heat.

6.Get the food processor running again, with the chocolate still inside, and pour in the hot cream in a steady stream. Process for 10 seconds, then add the butter. Continue to process until mixture is shiny and smooth. (You can also make the ganache by hand; just make sure the chocolate is chopped very finely before adding the cream mixture. Stir with a wooden spoon until almost melted, then add the butter. Stir again until the ganache is smooth.)

7.Use a rubber spatula to scrape the ganache into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap, with the plastic touching the surface of the ganache. Set aside for about 2 hours at room temperature until it has set to a spreading consistency. (Ganache can be stored at room temperature, providing it’s not too warm, for 3 days or kept in the fridge for up to 2 weeks. It can also be frozen, although it will lose a bit of its shine when defrosted.)

8.To make the espresso cinnamon mascarpone cream, place all ingredients in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat for 1-2 minutes until soft peaks form.

9.Peel the baking paper from the cake and discard. Transfer cake to a serving platter and spread the ganache on top. Slice cake into wedges to serve, with a spoonful of the espresso cinnamon mascarpone cream alongside.

................................. Keep Reading ...................................

[timetraveltasting]

POMPKIN PIE (1796)

In honour of Canadian Thanksgiving, which occurred this past weekend, I made a holiday-appropriate Tasting History dish: Pompkin Pie from the book American Cookery by Amelia Simmons, published in 1796. While America celebrates Thanksgiving at the end of November, Canada celebrates the holiday in mid-October. I have always liked this, because it seems very in line with the harvest, and it is definitely nice to have a cozy autumn holiday to tide us over until Christmas. While Germany doesn't celebrate the holiday, I thought making this pumpkin pie would be a good way to keep the festive feeling alive while I'm living abroad. Before European crops took hold in the Americas, pumpkins were a staple food for many, and were certainly eaten by Indigenous Peoples long before the colonists arrived. In the late 17th and early 18th centuries, Pumpkins were cooked into soups, puddings, chips, ale, and pies in the Americas. Even after apples and pears became widely available, pumpkins remained so popular in New England that the area was called Pumpkinshire by some, and Bostonians were even referred to as 'pompkins'. Nowadays, pumpkins are still beloved during autumn, and can be found in in soup, coffee, and pie form during this time of year. Pumpkin pies specifically have become a quintessential food for Thanksgiving meals. While modern pumpkin pies are fairly sweet, this recipe is for a custard-style pumpkin pie that doesn’t use any granulated sugar. Despite this, Max seemed very impressed with the taste, so I thought it worthwhile to try and make, even though I don't particularly love pumpkin pies (I prefer apple or cherry) and I have never made a pie before (this should go swimmingly...). Wish me luck! See Max’s video on how to make the dish here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.

My experience making it:

For this recipe, I had to make a few crucial changes. Firstly, I used puréed pumpkin; this is because, having never made a pie before, I somehow knew it would probably take me a long time to get the crust right, and I didn't particularly feel like spending an entire day making pie. Secondly, I couldn't find molasses in the grocery store (Germany strikes yet again), so I improvised by using Golden Syrup. Unfortunately, I didn't have quite enough Golden Syrup, so I also had to supplement that with some maple syrup (Grade A Canadian, of course). That's right folks, you caught the Canadian sneaking maple syrup into yet another recipe!

I preheated the oven, prepared my ingredients, then began making the crust. I beat the eggs lightly, and in a separate bowl, began kneading the butter into the flour by hand. One thing was already clear: it seemed there was way more butter than flour, so the mixture did not reach the 'crumbly' texture Max says to look for before moving on to the next step. So... I moved onto the next step anyways and added the beaten eggs. At this point, it was a big, shiny, sticky mess. Max said to mix it until it comes together and then roll out the dough, but for someone like me who has a special talent to screw up simple recipes when baking, there is a lot assumed in these instructions. This is when my 'cooking' side pushed my currently baking self aside and decided to keep adding flour until the mixture resembled what I thought pie crust dough should look and feel like. Shockingly, it kind of worked! Enough so that the dough was rollable. Admittedly, it was hard to work with and did break a few times while I was trying to drape it over my enamel pie pan, but I did eventually manage. It was at this point when I realized that Max had also glossed over how exactly to make the edges of the crust sit all nice and patterned on the edge of the pan. I quickly Youtubed a tutorial from a lovely British pastry chef who sounded like he knew what he was doing. I stuck with the easiest method: using a fork to make impressions all the way around - classic!

Because I had extra pie crust dough, I hastily made a second pie despite not having another pie tin. I present: the loaf pie! I threw both in the fridge for a few minutes to firm up, then attempted a blind bake using nature's baking weights: popcorn kernels. However, the edges of the crust took much longer to bake than the time in the recipe, so I upped the temperature just slightly and left it in about twice as long as it said to. While waiting for this to bake, I put together the pie filling. Because I used canned pumpkin, I happily skipped several steps in the recipe. I then added in the Golden Syrup and maple syrup instead of the molasses, beaten eggs, and a bit of milk. I kept whisking until uniform, then continued adding the rest of the litre of milk while whisking. It was at this point I realized I had forgotten to add the spices, so I quickly whisked in the allspice and ginger. The pie crust finally seemed to have a bit of brown on the edges, so I took it out - and it was indeed baked! I poured the liquid filling into each pie crust and put them both back into the oven on a baking tray (in case of spills). I returned the oven to the stated recipe temperature and let them bake for 80 minutes. To check if they were done, I did the jiggle test (seemed to be the right amount of jiggle to me!) and also tested with a toothpick, which came out clean. Max said to turn off the oven and wedge a spoon in the door to keep it ajar; this way the pies wouldn't crack on the top. I did this, but my pies cracked anyways. Oh well. I let them cool completely before serving our slices with a bit of whipped cream on top after dinner.

My experience tasting it:

Knowing this Pompkin Pie recipe had no sugar in it, I was prepared for it not to taste very sweet. I tried just the pie first, without whipped cream, to see if this was true. Indeed, the main flavour was really pumpkin and spice, and even then, it was fairly muted. I particularly missed a sweeter crust. I'm not sure if it was because of the extra flour I added, but the crust didn't have much flavour, even despite the great amount of butter in it. Nonetheless, the texture of the pumpkin filling was absolutely lovely - light, silky, exactly the firmness I expect in a pumpkin pie, and perhaps even better than store-bought ones, which can sometimes be stodgy. As someone who is not the biggest fan of pumpkin pie, I did quite enjoy the filling. My main complaint for both the crust and the filling, however, is that they need some sugar! I am of the firm belief that a dessert should be a treat, and a sweet treat at that. To make up for the lack of sugar, my husband and I found ourselves adding extra whipped cream to balance the flavours. At one point, I may have even gotten out some brown sugar and sprinkled it on top, and this made all the difference! While terribly proud of how these pies came out considering my difficulties making them and them being my first ever attempt at pies, I wasn't confident they would please a crowd. However, I still brought in the loaf pie for my coworkers to try. I felt kind of bad that the first pumpkin pie some of my German coworkers ever tried would be this one, and they might now go through life believing all pumpkin pies are fairly bland. For this reason, I can't consider this recipe a keeper. For people who don't like sweet desserts, it might be a good idea, but it's just not for me. Nevertheless, my husband and I are still eating the leftovers, so it can't be all that bad, right? Either way, Happy Thanksgiving! If you end up making this dish, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!

Pompkin Pie original recipe (1796)

Sourced from the American Cookery by Amelia Simmons (1796).

Pompkin Pie No. 2 One quart of milk, 1 pint pompkin, 4 eggs, molasses, allspice and ginger in a crust, bake 1 hour. Puff Pastes for Tarts No. 3 To any quantity of flour, rub in three fourths of its weight of butter, (twelve eggs to a peck) rub in one third or half, and roll in the rest. 

Modern Recipe

Based on the a recipe from American Cookery by Amelia Simmons (1796) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.

Ingredients:

Crust

1 lb (450 g) flour

3/4 lb (340 g) butter

2 eggs, lightly beaten

Filling

2 cups (450 g) pumpkin puree, or 1 sugar pumpkin

4 eggs, lightly beaten

1/2 cup (190 g) molasses, not sulfured or blackstrap

1 quart (1 L) whole milk

1 1/2 tsp allspice

2 tsp ginger

Method:

For the crust: Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).

Rub the butter into the flour mixture until you get a breadcrumb consistency, then add in the egg and mix it in until it comes together.

Roll out the dough and line either one deep dish pie pan or two regular pie pans. Prick the bottom of the crust several times with a fork and crimp the edges of the dough.

Line the crust with some foil and add in pie weights or dried beans, then bake for 15 minutes. Take it out and remove the weights, then bake for another 15 to 20 minutes, or until the crust is fully baked. Let the crust cool.

For the filling: If you’re using canned pumpkin puree, skip to Step 9. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Cut the sugar pumpkin in half and scoop out the insides. Place the pumpkin halves cut side down on the prepared baking sheet and bake for 1 hour.

As soon as it’s done, take it out and remove the skin while it’s still hot (a fork and knife work well). It should come off very easily in strips.

Let the pumpkin cool a bit before mashing it up as smooth as you can. If you want an extra-smooth puree, pass it through a strainer.

In a mixing bowl, combine the pumpkin, eggs, molasses, and a small amount of the milk. Whisk until it starts to come together, then add the allspice, ginger, and the rest of the milk. Whisk until well combined. The mixture will be quite liquidy.

Place the pie pan on a baking sheet to catch any drips or spills. Pour the filling into the baked crust. Since it’s so liquidy, I filled mine about 3/4 full, put it in the oven, then ladled the rest of the filling in so I wouldn’t make a huge mess when I moved it.

Bake at 350°F (175°C) for 75 to 80 minutes or until there is just a slight wobble in the middle of the pie.

Turn off the oven, but leave the pie in to cool with the door slightly ajar (you can use a wooden spoon to prop it open).

Let cool completely before slicing, then serve it forth. This actually tastes even better the next day!

[copperleafhotel]

Escape the Ordinary: Unforgettable Romantic Getaways for Two in Tirunelveli

Is the spark in your relationship fading under the fluorescent lights of everyday life? Craving a romantic escape that goes beyond the impersonal walls of a typical hotel room? Look no further than the vibrant city of Tirunelveli! Steeped in rich history and blessed with breathtaking natural beauty, Tirunelveli offers a unique backdrop for reigniting the flames of love.

But ditch the usual hotel experience! Immerse yourselves in the authentic charm of Tirunelveli by opting for a romantic getaway in one of the city’s charming homestays near Tirunelveli. These hidden gems, often nestled amidst serene landscapes or historic neighborhoods, offer a more intimate and personalized experience.

Here’s why a homestay getaway in Tirunelveli is the perfect recipe for a romantic escape:

Unique Experiences: Forget standardized room service and generic amenities. Homestays offer a glimpse into local life, allowing you to connect with Tirunelveli’s vibrant culture. Imagine waking up to the aroma of freshly brewed filter coffee or enjoying a home-cooked meal prepared with love by your hosts.

Intimacy & Privacy: Ditch the crowds and noise! Homestays often provide a more intimate setting, perfect for creating lasting memories together. Picture yourselves cuddling up by a cozy fireplace in a quaint cottage or enjoying a candlelit dinner on a private balcony overlooking the city.

Hidden Gems: Many homestays are located in off-the-beaten-path locations, allowing you to explore the hidden treasures of Tirunelveli. Imagine discovering secluded waterfalls, visiting ancient temples, or strolling through picturesque villages — all just a stone’s throw away from your cozy homestay.

Planning Your Romantic Homestay Getaway in Tirunelveli:

Theme Your Getaway: Looking for a touch of luxury? Opt for a heritage homestay housed in a restored colonial mansion. Craving a nature retreat? Choose a homestay nestled amidst lush greenery or near cascading waterfalls. Research homestays near Tirunelveli to find one that perfectly complements your romantic vision.

Activities for Two: From exploring ancient temples hand-in-hand to trying your hand at local crafts together, Tirunelveli offers a plethora of romantic activities. Consider visiting the Nellaiappar Temple, a stunning architectural marvel, or embark on a scenic boat ride on the Tamirabarani River.

Unwind & Relax: No romantic getaway is complete without some well-deserved pampering. Many homestays offer in-house spa treatments or can help arrange private yoga sessions. Alternatively, simply relax on your private balcony, soak in the views, and reconnect with your loved one.

Ready to escape the ordinary and embark on an unforgettable romantic adventure?

For a truly seamless experience in finding the perfect homestay for your Tirunelveli love escape, consider browsing Copper Leaf Hotels’ curated collection of charming homestays near Tirunelveli. We pride ourselves on connecting discerning travelers with unique and authentic accommodation options, ensuring your romantic getaway is an experience to cherish forever. Visit our website at copperleafhotels.com and start planning your dream escape today!

For more details visit our website: www.copperleafhotels.com

[milady-pink]

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 2130 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"Never Gettin' Rid Ofd Me "

Recipe Book

AO3

Christine’s stomach was twisting and turning all night long. From the second she hid the money, up until her head hit the pillow anxiety wracked her entire body; and possibly the baby’s too. There was a huge spike when Raoul got home, paranoia plaguing her thoughts that he somehow knew, that he purposefully plopped down on the beaten up couch to toy with her. But she knew better. If he really did know, or found out, Christine would be dead and Raoul would be laughing his way to the bank to collect life insurance then spend the entirety on beer and burgers. When he asked for her wages she gave him a third of what she really made, not willing to say a word about the rest.

Thankfully by morning, most of the nerves had gone and Christine was able to get to work with little worry that her deadbeat husband would find her secret ‘Me-And-The-Baby-Are-Running-Away-Away-And-Entering-A-Pie-Contest’ money stash.

Here’s hoping today will be normal.

Today’s pie was ‘White Knuckle Cream Pie’, coffee was warm, and the morning breakfast rush had subsided and it was just nearing lunch. Each waitress had their own tasks at hand; Christine was wiping down the front counter after a toddler spilled their OJ, Meg was taking a phone order, and Carlotta was about to take the order of a dark-skinned man, wearing a bow tie and checkered shirt despite the heat.

“Hiya handsome, what can I getcha?”

“No,” this caused the redhead to look up at her patron, “no no no. I don’t want you as my waitress. I want her, that lady right there.”

Carlotta followed where his finger pointed and found herself staring at the ‘seemingly’ occupied Meg on the phone. She decided to handle this with more grace than she thought she possessed.

She turned her attention back to the gentleman sitting before her. “Sorry hun, but you’re in my station.” She tried to explain to him, but the strong willed man would have none of it.

“Well, I don’t want you. I want her.” He said with no malice, in fact, only admiration for the blonde haired waitress ahead of him.

“I do love me a man who knows what he wants.” Carlotta kidded, putting her pad away, knowing damn well he was holding out for something stronger.

For the first time since she arrived at his table, the bow-tied man turned all of his attention to his server. “Is she a friend of yours? What can you tell me about her? What are her likes and dislikes? Does she have any allergies to food, what about pollen sensitivities?” He shot rapid fire questions with great enthusiasm.

“Will you excuse me darlin’. I’m gonna speak with Meg, see if we can’t get her to answer those questions herself.” She responded, acting like she was dealing with a child instead of the very grown man sitting alone.

After agreeing that getting the blonde young-woman over to his table, Carlotta left him, he averted his eyes to the very person he so wanted to talk to. Walking behind the counter where the phone is connected, Carlotta ‘hung up’ the phone; with the sneaking suspicion there was no customer on the other end since she’s been on the phone since he walked in.

“Meg,” Carlotta began, “there’s a man sittin’ at table 5 on a mission with your name on it—“

“I know,” declared the blonde, garnering the attention of Christine who just finished cleaning up the toddler’s OJ flood. “His name is Nadir, Arabic for precious. He’s NKBrigade!” The trio of ladies look over to his table, catching him in the act of pouring salt in his closed fist, blowing over the top, then opening; only to spill salt all over the table. Meg goes on to explain, “He’s an amateur magician, does competitive clog dancing, and he only eats white foods on Wednesdays!” She tells her friends in a panicked whisper, “He said we were soulmates! And, I made the huge mistake of tellin’ him I work here!”

“I dunno Meg, it sounds like the guy’s got potential.” Christine pondered.

“The man took through the entire medical and psychiatric history of every member of his family.” She deadpan told the girls.

“I wish most men would lay it all out on the table—“

By now, Meg was wringing her fingers together, “I just wanted a quiet first date, stimulating conversation. The first man who’s ever shown an interest in me turns out to be a crazy, stalker elf!” She huffs out, turning to Christine. “I’m tellin’ you, Christine, that pie was too good! I never should have brought a magic love pie in the first place.” 

Although flattered, she knew better than to let a pastry take away from the many charms her younger friend possesses. “Mm, don’t think it was the pie hun, I think the magic was you.”

Meg grasped her arm, almost pulling it out of the socket, frantically afraid of who this man might be. “At least come with me!”

Rather than telling her friend that she needs to face this battle herself, she says, “I would love to accompany you, Meg. But, I gotta pee, baby, ya know?” Thankful for the excuse.

Breaking her anxious thoughts from drowning her completely, Piangi calls out from the kitchen, “Are any of you gonna take the elf’s order?!”

With a supportive shove from Carlotta, Meg finds herself walking towards table 5, slow as molasses. When she got there she kept her head down, refusing to look him in the eye, ready to go through her routine with no enthusiasm whatsoever. “Hello, good morning, hello, I told you I didn’t want to see you again, may I take your order?”

Not deterred by her off putting nature, Nadir acted as if everything was dandy. “I will have an egg white omelet, with cottage cheese and a side of mayonnaise. I am a very persistent man, Meg, and I know what I want.” He told her with a dazzling smile, borderline deranged, while presenting her a mixed bouquet of flowers.

Without bothering to take the flowers, she went on. “And what kind of toast will you want with that? White or wheat?” Dropping the act the minute she realized, and exclaimed, “Why even ask, it’s Wednesday!” 

Focusing more on her words than how she said them, Nadir responded dreamily. “See? We already know each other so intimately!”

“You don’t know me!” Hating how she sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

A serious expression overtook his face. “Oh, but I do. You’re MegFooYoung, easily misunderstood and overlooked. But I see your true beauty, where others would keep searching. Normally I would do somethin’ like this— actually I’ve never done this. But, Meg, those five minutes with you felt like a whole fifteen! I am certain we are meant to be together.” He finished, with startling conviction.

“I don’t even know anything about you!” Trying her darndest to get this man to leave her alone.

Unfortunately for Meg, her admirer took the opportunity to fix that small gap. “I am a tax auditor, I drive a nice green subcompact Toyota Yaris, and I love my mother. What else do you want to know about me?” He asked her, more than happy to oblige. 

“Your dessert order.” This time, instead of a toneless question, she asked with spite lacing her words.

“I’ll have a slice of ‘White Knuckle Cream Pie’—“

“With or without whipped cream?”

“You choose— I trust you with no fault. Although, if you do choose whipped cream, could you put it on the side, not touching the pie?” He inquired.

Lost in writing down the order, Meg lets slip her icy exterior. “I hate when it touches the pie—“

“Soggies the crust—“

“And you can never control the amount of whipped cream—“

“To pie ratio to create the perfect bite.” Both voices finish the same pet peeve.

Meg lets out a snort laugh, out of pure craziness of the situation. 

“That laugh, that intoxicating, entwining laugh.” He said, completely serious and absorbed in the magic of the waitress in front of him. “Meg, you inspire poetry to erupt from inside. Here’s one, made up right on the spot: 

‘All my life I’ve loved turtles.

And you Meg are the queen.

Da Da Da, Da Da Da….somethin’ in between’

I still gotta work on the ending, but you like it?”

With pure shock, her mouth lay open collecting dust, completely frenzied with what had occurred within the last ten minutes. She had now idea what to do, far too scared to name the butterflies in her stomach, and even more scared to tell herself that she might not hate the man in front of her.

But no, this had to stop here.

Taking the flowers he bestowed before, she held them towards the door. “Please, for the love of gravy, take your mixed bouquet and leave!” She said with as much desperation as she felt.

Standing up from his seat, fearing she had pushed him too far, she backed up a bit with her arm outstretched holding the flowers for him to take on his way out. 

“Meg, I will never leave, I will never let you make me leave, nor will I stop pursuing your affections.” He startles her by getting down on one knee, having now garnered the attention of the entire diner. “I want to do this right, Meg. Take you out to dinner, have you meet my mom, tell you about the stray cat I named Sardine when I was a kid in the outskirts of the city, and how that little guy was the best friend I ever had. If I ever move from this spot, give up if you will, that proves I am not the man for you. You, someone worth fightin’, or sitting in one spot day after day, for.”

Flattery got most people nowhere. Luckily for Nadir, his little declaration of admiration was definitely scoring points with the object of his desires. Too bad she wanted to keep lying to herself, and in turn those around her.

He got up off the floor, dusting off his knee as he stood up. “So, how’s Sunday, pick you up at 7?” Fixing his bow tie, clearly knowing he has made some headway with the waitress.

“Maybe,” she said, surprising herself.

“Maybe! Maybe!” Clearly happy with her answer. “There’s gonna be a reading of the Federalist Papers at Rainard Park.” 

“How’d you know about that?” She asked, suspicious.

Taking pride in the fact, Nadir straightened his checkered shirt before replying. “I have played Paul Revere in 42 Revolutionary War Re-enactments. Well, in all actuality it was 40 times as the standby Revere, but 2 times Paul was out— even though one of those times I was injured halfway through, bayonet problem— fell off my horse and had to have my spleen removed.”

As is enchanted, Meg quoted, “‘One if by land, two if by sea’…..”

“…and I on the opposite shore will be!” He answered.

“The elf and the turtle…. An epic romance.” Declared Carlotta from her spot on the other side of the diner.

Waiting for the other line to answer Christine herself was inspired by the two quirky people’s affections. “‘Almost Makes You Believe Again Pie’, where you reach for an ingredient you forgot you even had, way back in your cupboard— like poppy seeds.” Mumbling to herself. “Somethin’ you maybe bought but forgot you had. Throw in some crushed gingersnaps, and tapioca, mix until combined unexpectedly. Sprinkle in all of your questions and concerns.”

Finally the other line picks up, and a friendly nurse asks her for her reason of calling. “Hello, is Doctor Destler there? This is Christine DeChagny, I’m a patient— Hi, Doctor Destler. Well, I’m sure its nothing, but you said to call if anything came up. Hum, this morning I was bleeding a bit….No, no very light. Sure I can come in….tomorrow works. Alright, I’ll see you, tomorrow at 7! Thank you—“

The phone was taken out of Christine’s hand, causing her to turn around finding Piangi with the out-of-date cordless phone in his hands up to his ear. In his free hand was a plate of blueberry pancakes with a pad of butter on top.

“Sorry,” he spoke into the receiver, “but I have to take a stack of perfectly round, meticulously made, once warm, blueberry buttermilk pancakes to table 3— because even though I’m pregnant, Doctor Dresser, I’m still workin’.” He sassed before hanging up.

Christine got the message, loud and clear, taking the warm plate over to table 3, all the while occupied with thoughts of her upcoming appointment with a certain Doctor.

[doanchaoc]

The ‘Tatsumi’ Burger

The World Ends with you is a truly fascinating game. Though in my opinion it can get hampered by its own controls, the difficulty, as well worth the story and frankly kickass music you’re given. Trapped in what I can only describe as the afterlife’s version of the Hunger Games, Neku Sakuraba competes with other dead souls for the chance at resurrection. If he loses, he faces erasure from existence. But aside from skill, tenacity, and a wide array of magical pins, what else does a player of the Reaper’s Game need to win?

Food!

Yes, even the souls of the dead get hungry every once in a while. While some of these souls prefer fruits, coffee, or even good ol’ Japanese ramen, today I’ll be cooking up a more familiar treat. Enter the ‘Tatsumi’ Burger. As described in game, “ The ultimate burger, made with only the finest ingredients. Even the pickiest of foodies will shut up and chow down.”

With that description in mind, I’ve decided on a fusion of East and West, a burger bedecked in the flavors of Japanese street food. As far as ‘fine’ ingredients go, I like to keep my food in the realm of the affordable, therefore I have interpenetrated ‘fine’ to mean somewhat on the healthy side. (I use the term ‘somewhat’ because how healthy can mayo be?)

This recipe makes 4 burgers

Tools:

Mixing bowl

Skillet

Spatula

Small bowl (For beating egg)

Fork

Ingredients:

Aioli:

1 ½ Tbsp lite mayo

1 tsp ponzu sauce

1 tsp tonkatsu sauce

½ tsp garlic powder

1 tsp rice vinegar

pinch of bonito flakes

Sriracha sauce to taste

Sesame seeds to taste

Meat:

1lb 93% lean ground turkey

2 Tbsp lite mayo

1 cup crumbled snacking seaweed

1 Tbsp flour

1 Tbsp Panko bread crumbs (these can be found in the Asian section of any grocery store)

1 tsp sesame oil

1 tsp garlic powder

1 large egg (beaten)

salt and pepper to taste

Additional ingredients:

Whole wheat burger buns (optional)

Sesame seeds

Bonito flakes

Katsu sauce

1 tbsp peanut oil

1.5 tsp sesame oil

Method:

Begin by cracking your egg into your small bowl and whisking it with your fork until it looks like this:

And pour into your large bowl, like so. Add your mayo, seaweed, flour, panko, sesame oil, garlic, and salt and pepper and knead with your hands until all ingredients are incorporated. Now take some extra flour and coat your hands in it. Form your mixture into to four evenly sized patties.

Add your sesame and peanut oils to the skillet and heat the skillet to medium heat. When the skillet is hot enough, add your patties. Cook them for five minutes per each side. Remove from pan.

Aioli: Combine aioli ingredients until well blended.

To present: Toast your bun until slightly browned. Place patty on bottom bun. Place top bun next to burger face-up. Squeeze a swirl of sriracha onto top bun. Spoon some aioli onto patty. Squeeze a wavy line of katsu sauce onto burger. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and bonito flakes. You can also go bunless if you’re counting carbs. (Bok choy and avocados are optional)

This post first appeared on (https://noshes4nerds.tumblr.com/post/188109411973/the-tatsumi-burger)

[practical-hearthcraft]

Alright so:

225g soft unsalted butter

375g sugar. I like dark muscavado if I have it, but today I just used caster sugar and it was fine.

2 large eggs, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

100g dark chocolate, melted OR 40g unsweetened cocoa powder

200g self-raising flour

250ml boiling water

1 loaf tin, preferably a 2lb/1kg tin

Start by preheating your oven to Gas 5 or it's equivalent. In a large mixing bowl and using a wooden spoon or handheld blender, cream together the butter and sugar, then add eggs and vanilla extact. Mix to blend but you will likely have big lumps of butter still visible if you're doing this by hand. That's fine. Now add in your cocoa powder/melted chocolate and mix a bit more.

Now you want to start adding the flour and water. I go a little at a time, adding a bit of flour, then water to loosen and then mix for a bit before adding more. If you're doing this by hand this is really important as it will be so much easier to mix this way. We're not looking for a light and airy batter. This is a dense cake people, feel free to work out some frustrations while you mix this all together.

Once everything is combined, either grease your loaf tin with some butter, or use a loaf tin liner as you can see in my picture above and pour in your batter until it's about 2/3 full. I say this because it always end up as a chocolatey explosion in my oven if I overfill. I also suggest a tray to go under the loaf tin to catch any errant drips.

Bake at gas 5 for about 30 minutes, then reduce the oven to gas 3 for 30 minutes more. It's going to be very moist so the skewer through the middle won't necessarily come out clean. You might want to bake for a bit less or longer, it depends on your oven. Mine cooks slow so I always need longer than most recipes.

Let it cool, and enjoy with a cup of tea or coffee. It's very nice with some fresh strawberries and cream if you're feeling fancy or want to share with guests. It keeps well, and I find the flavour is best the next day.

My cinnamon chocolate loaf. Friends, this is so dense and sweet. It's divine. I'll add the recipe once z is in bed.

[tastyrecipeslove-blog]

SIMPLE AND FAST HAND BEATEN COFFEE AT HOME!! घर पर कॉफ़ी बनाने का झटपट और आसान तरीका ! Coffee is the best drink to have with friends, relatives or loved ones and this video is all about how to make hand beaten coffee at home in Hindi. You can also use this hand beaten coffee for long days by keeping it in refrigerator. This is the very simple recipe to make coffee at home for the guests. Use this recipe to make a tasty coffee. how to make hand beaten coffee: Ingredients required for the same :- Coffee :- 4tbsp Sugar:-   4tbsp Hot water :- 1 cup Milk :- 1 cup(According to your choice ) Recipe:- Take 4 tbsp of coffee and 4 tbsp of white sugar ( you can also use brown sugar) and mix them well in a bowl. Now pour 1 cup of hot water slowly and beat it well till you won't get smooth and pluffy texture. Now put 1 spoon of beaten coffee in a cup and pour 1 cup hot milk and mix it well . Hand beaten coffee is ready to serve. hand beaten coffee recipe. हम  आज इस वीडियो  में  कॉफ़ी रेसिपी सीखेंगे।  इसके लिए आपको ४ चम्मच कॉफ़ी और ४ चम्मच चीनी को एक बाउल में  मिक्स करना है फिर उसमे १ कप गरम पानी का धीरे धीरे डालके मिक्स  करना है।  तब तक मिक्स करिये जब तक एक सॉफ्ट सा टेक्सचर नहीं मिल जाए।  कॉफ़ी का मिक्सचर तो रेडी है अगर आप चाहे तो इसे फ्रिज में बी रख सकते हे. अब एक चम्मच फैटी हुई कॉफ़ी को गरम दूध में मिक्स करे और तब तक मिक्स करे जब तक झाग न बन जाए. फैटी हुई कॉफ़ी रेडी हे बस अब सर्व   कीजिये. If u like My Video Then pls Share and Subscribe.. Also follow Me on Social media: https://www.facebook.com/ShikkhaSrivastav/ https://twitter.com/shikkhasrivasta/ https://in.pinterest.com/shikkhasrivasta/

[cheh01]

Coffee Recipe Without Machine | How to make hand beaten cold coffee at h...

[ateezreactionsandscenarios]

The Roommate Agreement - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Reader

Genre: Slice of life, angst.

CW: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of being evicted.

Word Count: 3160

Summary: You try to get away from your anxieties even if it’s only for a few hours, but one meltdown leads to a possible solution being thrown your way.

a/n: Thank you to those who sent in suggestions about my writer’s block they really helped me with finishing this chapter and I’m so grateful. Let’s hope I can keep this up for my other works. 

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As you and Yeosang turn a corner you could hear the music blaring from Yunho’s house and see a swarm of already drunk people filtering out through the door just to drink outside. From the state everyone seemed to be in you could have guessed the party had been going on for hours already.

Yeosang is the first to step inside, checking you were still behind him before he went off to find Yunho. You barely got through the door before a very intoxicated Mingi found you, throwing himself onto you in a heavy drunken hug with flailing limbs.

“Y/n, you made it.” He shouted over the music, his speech very slurred to the point you could just about understand him.

“How much have you had to drink Mingi?” You ask with a giggle pushing him off you by the shoulders and holding him still. He took a moment to answer your question, counting his drinks on his fingers.

“3.” He replied holding up 5 fingers making you laugh since the action alone gave you a rough idea as to how many he’s had already.

“I’m so happy you’re here y/n it’s never the same without you, you’re so great.” He whines wrapping you in another hug, the beer from the bottle in his hand spilling on you a little as he throws his arms over you. 

“Thank you Mingi.” You smile accepting that this is now your fate, spending the night wrapped in a tight Mingi bear hug.

“Oh shit, you don’t have a drink, come with me!” Next thing you knew you were getting pulled through the crowd by your wrist heading towards the kitchen. You were grateful it was slightly quieter, you didn’t need to strain to hear Mingi talk to you and you could actually hear your thoughts again. Mingi stumbled all over the place grabbing you a cup and looking for a bottle of something to fill it with. You had to admit the scene was entertaining to say the least, the way his tongue stuck out slightly as he concentrated on every minor action. 

Then he got to pouring the drink, the concentration clear on his face and his tongue sticking out further as he got a good grip on the bottle before pouring, missing the cup completely.

“Mingi, sweetie, I’ll do it it’s okay thank you.” You jump in carefully pulling the bottle from him and setting it down so you could clean up the mess he’d made. You didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping over to the two of you until you turned to get your cup only to find he’d beaten you to filling it up.

“Woo, what the fuck is that?” You ask raising an eyebrow as you watch him pour a toxic green drink into your cup.

“It’s my secret recipe.” He giggles handing you the cup.

“Try it.” You’re a little weary to take a sip, you have no idea what he’d put in it and the colour is what was scaring you the most, that and the way Wooyoung was giggling away to himself like a child pulling a prank. You glance over to Mingi silently asking him if the drink is okay and Mingi only nods at you lifting his cup in a cheers before he takes another sip. 

Taking a deep breath and bracing yourself you take a small sip, enough to taste it but not enough to make you choke if it was bad. The overwhelming taste and burn of the alcohol almost knocked you off your feet, if you had to guess from taste alone Wooyoung probably used 95% alcohol and 5% mixer, just the smell of it could make you black out drunk. 

“Good right?” He said taking a large sip of his own toxic green drink which made you wonder how the hell he wasn’t choking on it.

“It’s a bit strong isn’t it?”

“That’s the fun of it, I call it the Kinky Fox Special.” He says with a proud look on his face. The name of the drink alone has you in fits of laughter, trust him to name a drink after himself.

“What’s so funny?” Yeosang asks making his way over to you, his eyes fliting between you laughing and Wooyoung’s smug face.

“Ahh, he’s finally showed you the Kinky Fox Special huh?” He asked judging from your cup on the table. You calm yourself down from laughing, holding your ribs as they start to hurt.

“Nice to see you’re feeling a bit better.” Yeosang whispered to you, leaning in slightly so the other two couldn’t hear. You smile and nod at him before taking another sip of your drink and your small smile quickly turns into a grimace from the taste of the drink making Yeosang laugh at you.

“I’m a bit better but this drink isn’t helping me though.” You laugh setting the drink down again.

“Yeah, it’s not for the weak hearted.”

“Who left Wooyoung around the alcohol long enough for him to even think this thing up?”

“We don’t know, one minute we were all together then the next he’s fixed up a pitcher of radioactive waste. That’s the origin story of the Kinky Fox Special.”

“What’s in it?” 

“No one knows and honestly we’re all too scared to ask.” Yeosang says glancing over to Wooyoung who was now carrying his pitcher around filling other people’s drinks. You were about to ask Yeosang something else but your thought’s were interrupted when you felt two hands fall on your shoulders.

“Y/N!!!!!” San shouts wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in so your back was flush to his chest. You could smell the alcohol on him too but you were happy to see he wasn’t as drunk as Mingi.

“Hi Sani.” You reply patting his hands lightly.

“How long have you been here, we didn’t see you come in.” Jongho asks popping up from the side.

“I’ve only been here 15 minutes, I was going to come over and say hi but I got kidnapped and made to drink this.” You laugh light heartedly holding up your cup.

“Ooooh, the Kinky Fox Special, good choice.” Jongho cheers tapping his cup to yours in a cheers and taking a gulp. 

“Good choice, really?” You ask watching Jongho drink his in bewilderment.

“Well, more like a brave choice.” San laughs. 

“Come join us for a dance.” San suggests, excitement clear in his eyes.

“San, I’m not drunk enough to do that yet.” You laugh knowing full well you need to feel at least a little tipsy before you try dancing. San glances over to Jongho and it seems Jongho was already on the same page as he shoots San a knowing smirk. Next thing you know you’ve got your arms trapped by both boys as they drag you effortlessly over to where everyone was dancing. You look over your shoulder to Yeosang giving him a look that screamed ‘send help’ but he just chuckled lightly to himself and raised his cup to you as he watched you get dragged into the crowd of people.

It took a while for you to get into the rhythm of the music, everyone around you was flowing so easily to the beat and having a good time but you took your time getting settled. You were never confident in your dancing especially since half of your friend group was very much into dancing and were so good at it, you never liked to embarrass yourself like that unless you had a good number of drinks down you first. 

You soon found your rhythm after a few more mouthfuls of your drink and having San help guide you to get you started and before you knew it, the alcohol buzzing in your system, you were off, one minute dancing with San, the next moving onto Jongho and the next moving on to whoever was closest. Your cup never seemed to become empty and you could only assume Wooyoung was running around topping up people’s cups with his science experiment of a drink and now, with a pleasantly fuzzy head, you didn’t mind the taste so much anymore, you dare say it was starting to grow on you.

The longer you danced and the more you drank the more the anxieties of the eviction were melting away, you were starting to feel like a college student again and you were having the time of your life and for now you didn’t need to think about any of your stresses and just have a good time surrounded by your favourite people.

It must have been close to 2 hours you had been dancing before you realise that the biggest majority of guests had left and your own group had wandered off to the couches to rest. Bringing your dancing to a stop you make your way over to them on unsteady feet and sit...well more like fall, into the empty spot on the floor next to Yunho and in front of Yeosang who was sat on the couch. The boys were talking amongst themselves, the conversation barely perceptible from how all of them were talking with slurred speech now.

While trying to listen to the conversation the boys were having, you watched as the last of the guests filtered out leaving you with just your 8 best friends. Yunho notices the lack of guests too so he decides to turn down the music with his phone, making it more like background noise while you all talk.

Everyone is deep in their own conversations, a combination of slurred speech and giggles fill the room but you sit in your spot silent. The distraction of the party was fading away from you and the alcohol amplified your emotions, you suddenly felt panicked as you remember the red slip you had through your door earlier that day and looking around at your friends who were laughing with each other without a care in the world made it even worse. They had nothing to worry about, they were all doing well in their studies for their own degrees, they had jobs that helped pay the bills and they had roofs over their heads, something which you were soon going to be without.

You don’t know when you started crying but when all the boys turned their attention towards you, you felt the room shrink. Some of them were laughing, thinking you were just an emotional drunk but as soon as they saw Yeosang’s worried face looking at you they knew something was up.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Yeosang asked quietly running his hands over your shoulders to soothe you. You shook you’re head in response, covering your face with your hands as you began to sob harder.

“Y/n.” Hongjoong starts, getting up and making his way over to you. 

“Please tell us what’s wrong.” He sounded a lot more sober than he was 5 minutes ago, the shock of you suddenly crying must have made them all sober up a little.

“Is it your assignments that’s worrying you?” Yeosang asked again.

“She wasn’t going to come tonight since she has assignments to do but I asked her to come for a few hours to get away from it all for a bit, I didn’t like to hear she was stressed.” Yeosang explained to the others and they all nod, glancing at you with sympathetic looks.

“I’m getting evicted.” You blurt out between sobs. Everyone froze and you could feel Yeosang’s hands stiffen on your shoulders.

“What?” Yeosang asks, leaning down to get a better look of your face.

“I don’t have assignments due...Well, I do but I’m not worried about those, I can get an extension, but...” You took a deep breath trying to steady your speech.

“When I got home today I had a red slip through the door, I haven’t been able to pay rent for 2 months because of my stupid job and now I’ve got 2 weeks to find somewhere else to live, but I can’t afford anywhere else.” You bring your knees up to your chest and burry your face away so they couldn’t see you start to sob again. 

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me, I could have stayed and helped you look instead of dragging you out.” Yeosang’s tone was worried and guilty, assignments were one thing but getting evicted was serious.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You sob.

The boys all piled onto you in a group hug shushing you and patting where ever they were able to reach. Jongho slides his hand under your chin to make you look up at everyone and the sight of your red puffy eyes made everyone’s heart break.

“Well help you think of what you can do.” Jongho tells you calmly and looks around to the others for some help.

“You could find a sugar daddy.” Mingi suggests, earning his weird looks from everyone. In his defence he wants to help you and make you laugh at the same time, he thought if you were able to cheer up even a little bit it’ll help you think straight.

“What, if she gets a sugar daddy then 1) she’ll be able to live somewhere even nicer 2) rent will be paid for her and 3) she’ll get a load of cool stuff bought for her...I think it’s a win.” Despite the severe anxiety weighing on your chest you managed a small giggle at his crazy idea making him smile softly at you knowing he did something right.

“I don’t think I’m going to find anyone to be my sugar daddy Mingi but thank you.”

“You can always sell photos of your feet on only Fans, you don’t need to show your face so no one will know it’s you and I’ve heard some people will pay a lot of money just for 1 photo.” Yunho suggests.

“That’s an idea and Yunho here will be your number 1 fan.” Wooyoung pipes up.

“What, as much as I’d like to help her I can’t stand feet.” 

“Yunho, I’ve seen your laptop so don’t even try lying to me.” Wooyoung quips before a pillow is slapped into his face to silence him. You can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of you, Wooyoung’s witchy laugh being muffled by the pillow and Yunho’s ears and cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink from embarrassment.

“You can always sell a kidney on the black market.” Hongjoong suggests, making the room go silent as everyone looks at him with wide confused eyes.

“You can get a lot of money for just 1 kidney, I recommend we take Wooyoung’s.” 

“Hey!” 

“Oh shush, you can live with one.” Hongjoong bites back rolling his eyes. 

Seonghwa settles himself in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he softly speaks to you.

“Do you know anyone looking for a roommate, that might be an easier option for you.” You shook your head in reply, your situation was looking more an more hopeless.

“Wait.” Yeosang yells, jumping up from his spot on the couch.

“My roommate moved out a month ago, I have a spare room no one’s using, you can have it.” The rest of the group look between you and Yeosang, it was a good plan, he knew and trusted you and you felt the same so why not go with it at least until you find yourself your own place.

“Yeo I don’t want to intrude on you and plus I can’t even make my own rent now, I don’t want to be a freeloader.” You explain.

“No, no, think about it we split the rent, I’ll even take a bigger chunk of it if we need to, I’m paying the full amount as it is right now so it’ll work out cheaper for me anyways and for you it’ll be easy, half of my rent is cheaper than what you’re paying at your place and you’ll never have to worry about me kicking you out.” you’re still unsure about it, you didn’t want to have to owe money to one of your best friends, you’ve seen how they end and it’s not pretty.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, I know it’s a lot for you and you’ve been drinking, I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret, but the offer will always be there if you want it.” Getting to your feet with a faint smile on your face you wrap Yeosang up in a tight hug a string of quiet thank you’s leaving your mouth. Your tension starts to ease up thanks to the guys and you feel yourself slowly going back to normal.

“Sorry for bringing the mood down guys, I’m okay now, thank you.” You announce sitting back down and giving them all a small smile to show you meant what you said. The rest of them avoided the topic and went back to their usual chatter.

With everyone back to normal the drinks start again, thankfully no toxic green drink in sight. Hongjoong was halfway to getting his cup to his mouth before the cup disappeared from his hand and found itself in #wooyoungs and he took a sip.

“You’re not my favourite person today, you know that?” Hongjoong hisses snatching his cup back from the younger.

“I'm not your favourite person any day.” Wooyoung quips back flinching from a slap threat making the rest of you erupt into fits of giggles.

The night slowly came to a close and by the end of it you’d drank so much you were barely able to stand on your own and for a while you’d had your body slumped over Yunho who was helping to keep you upright.

“I think I’m going to call it a night guys, come on y/n, you too.” Yeosang says patting your shoulder to get your attention. You grumble at him, too comfortable to move but he insisted.

“Come on, you’ve had a lot it’s time to get you to bed.” Yeosang gets to his feet and with the help of Yunho gets you to your feet.

“I'll take her back to mine with me, I don’t like the thought of her being on her own in this state.” Yeosang says to Seonghwa who nods back to him thinking to himself he’d have done the same. 

“Do you need us to call you a taxi?”

“No I’ll be fine I’m 5 minutes away so it’s okay.” Yeosang says, slinging your arm over his shoulder while his other hand firmly grips your waist to hold you up.

“I love you guys.” You whine turning your head to look at all of them with a drunk pout on your face.

“We love you too.” The all reply back giving you soft smiles watching as Yeosang helps you out the the door.

Tag List:  @kpopcrossworlds @kpopjust4u @whatudowhennooneseesyou @8tinytings   @jenotation @grim-adventures58 @owjohny   @ker1   @tinkerbell460   @haylstoney   @scuzmunkie   @halesandy @multihunbun   @kodzukein   @maskedmochii   @woosannie @senpai-of-doom @black--awsum​ @chanst1ddies​

[minnesotadruids]

Peppernuts: Connecting With the Ancestors... 

On the Mennonite side of my family, the surnames that pop up are largely Belgian, Dutch, and Low German. Peppernuts, or Pfeffernüsse are tiny cookies that are about as old as the spice trade, and would have likely been an ancestral tradition in my family going back as much as 500 years.

My grandmother was always the one to make these for the winter holiday season. If my cousins or I would ask if we can help with the cookies and the zwieback buns, grandma would inevitably tell us to go play and she’d take care of it all. I never realized until she passed away in 2009 that this meant that she wasn’t passing the traditions down at all. When she was in hospice I had asked for her zwieback recipe, and she was happy that I wanted to take on that tradition, but it meant that I can never ask her questions about the confusing details. 

Not only was she the first in our lineage to write the recipe down, but there were notes on the side written in Low German, which is markedly different than modern High German. Low German (AKA Plautdietsch) doesn’t really have much for translation resources, and I only know a Low German a nursery rhyme that doesn’t really even exist anymore. But this isn’t about the zwieback, this is about the peppernuts! My mom rediscovered grandma’s peppernuts recipe about two years ago, so both her, my sister, and I started making them. Although technology has advanced, it still helps me connect with the ancestors.

These little aromatic and spiced cookies are really easy to make if you have one extra helper after the dough is ready. One batch easily makes like 400 cookies, I kid you not – but they’re supposed to be small, coming out like the size of a 4 or 6 notched Lego block. They’re supposed to be hard cookies, at least that’s how grandma liked them. Kept you from eating more than 5 in one sitting because they would make your jaw hurt. Tonight’s batch was too big to fit into a one gallon ice cream bucket, so assuming I’m the only one that made them this year, I’ll be sharing them with the family at their Christmas dinner. Without further ado, here is the recipe:

Ancestral Peppernut (Pfeffernüsse) Recipe

There are so many variants, so substitute* as needed.

PREP: ½ cup coffee 1 tsp baking soda stirred into coffee

MIX: 1 cup butter 1 cup sugar 2 cups brown sugar 2 eggs, beaten 1 tsp anise extract

ADD: 5 & ¼ cups flour

SMALL BOWL: 1 tsp salt 1 tsp fine black or white pepper ½ tsp allspice 1 tsp cinnamon

Add dry spices to batter. Add the soda-coffee after mixing in most of the flour (gives the coffee time to cool so it doesn't cook the eggs). Burn out the motor in your hand mixer and finish mixing the dough by hand. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap or wax paper and chill until the temperature is consistent throughout (at least 30 min). Take small handfuls of dough at a time (no larger than a ping-pong ball) and roll into half-inch thick logs (between the thickness if your little finger but no larger than the thickness of a washable marker). Cut the dough rope into square (or then roll them into round) pieces. If rounded, no wider than a dime. They will expand to about the size of a quarter in diameter. Place pieces on cookie sheet (bakers paper helps) one inch apart.

Bake at 350° for 10-15 minutes or until golden-brown. Once cool, the cookies are supposed to be almost hard like biscotti, which is why it's important to keep them bite-sized in order to break fewer teeth at once. Recipe makes several hundred. Store at room temp for 1 week, then freeze for up to a month. Dip in coffee or tea to soften, or enjoy them as they fossilize with each passing day.

*Other recipes add any combination of the following in ½ or 1 tsp of: nutmeg, ground cloves, ground ginger, and/or vanilla extract.