#homemade mayo

[themamabair]

Homemade mayo is easy and cheap and more delicious than store bought! I make mine with avocado oil 🥑

This sandwich I put it on has smoked turkey, cheddar, arugula, and cranberry sauce. So delicious.

[floydfamilyhomestead]

How to Make Easy Homemade Mayonnaise

How to Make Easy Homemade Mayonnaise

Ingredients for you Homemade Mayonnaise What to do if you Homemade Mayonnaise Breaks How to make Homemade Mayonnaise Homemade mayonnaise is a simple way to get your family to eat a healthy alternative to store-bought condiments that are filled with a bunch of chemicals and preservatives. Ingredients for you Homemade Mayonnaise All of the ingredients are items that most people will already have…

[silverovaskitchen]

MADE: 17 JUL 2022

A reblog from my main blog, cause I'm still pretty damn proud of what I did there. Actual recipe and pictures under the cut, if you have no time for the opening blurb.

Салат « Янус » (The Janus Salad)

(Or: a Russian Englishman’s twist on the Romanov-era Olivier Salad)

007 Fest 2022, Scavenger Hunt item no. 52: “Design a meal or dish of food representing a Bond character. Explain your logic.”

In the days when Janus used to travel all around Russia in his personal armoured train, the question of food always was a critical one. Of course, the on-board kitchen was well-stocked with quality tins, but one did not simply live on a diet of tinned food—especially when one was the immensely rich Janus.

Therefore, some of the Janus Syndicate’s enforcers were specially assigned to catering. They ordered dishes to the greatest chefs in all of Saint Petersburg and brought them back to base (not unlike a private Uber Eats…); they did the grocery shopping at the historical Gostiniy Dvor department store; they even procured rare and/or exotic ingredients from abroad. None of them complained—as long as they weren’t caught red-handed nabbing some of this exceptional food, the job certainly had its advantages.

Janus, as for him, didn’t complain either. As much as he despised his old friend James in those days, he had very much adopted the latter’s love for good, expensive cuisine for himself. While the local restaurateurs never saw him in person, he paid them so generously they came to look forward to the tough-looking henchman’s next visit. There were worse arrangements, especially in 1990s Russia.

What Janus also loved was history—above all else, Romanov history. In another life, he would have certainly been the dashing Count Vronskiy in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. Or, at the very least, a young, ambitious Don Cossack officer, relentlessly gaining power in the tsar’s court through intrigue and connections. But alas, he was born a century too late for that to ever happen. His consolation was to devour all the books he could find on the subject… and infiltrating the young Russian Federation’s politics to steer them away from Communism as much as he could.

It was while reading one of his history books that one day, Janus stumbled upon the story of Belgian chef Lucien Olivier and of his most famous creation—Olivier salad. Like every Russian, Janus knew the Soviet, cheapened-down variation of it, also known as Russian potato salad. He was very surprised to find out that the original was, in fact, very posh. Depending on the versions, it could include such ingredients as hazel grouse, crayfish tails, or even black caviar.

Intrigued, Janus kept searching about this historical salad. Chef Olivier had clung jealously to his recipe all the way to the grave, but fortunately some of his contemporaries had noted down their best approximations. The oldest possible source Janus could find was an 1894 article from the long-defunct magazine ‘Our Food’. For what he had in mind, it was a very good base.

So, one day, he summoned one of his caterers and asked for the recipe to be recreated, albeit with a few alterations of his own. The original recipe was forever lost after all, so no need for complete authenticity. Instead of hazel grouse, he wanted partridge—a very acceptable replacement, according to the 1894 article. If he did live the Cossack life, he’d probably have hunted it himself… but the truth was, partridge had been his favourite game meat ever since James made him try some.

Instead of crayfish, he wanted the sweeter, softer scampi. How English of him, one might say. Instead of meat jelly, he wanted the most buttery, decadent beluga caviar—hopefully not from Valentin Zukovsky's Azerbaijani farm, though. He wanted quail eggs, too. And for a slightly dark, smoked edge, he wanted French duck magret. Again, James’ influence on him might be stronger than he’d ever admit…

Lastly, there was the question of the most mysterious ingredient of them all—what the article called ‘Kabul’ sauce. Back in the day, it was a condiment made by the British firm Crosse & Blackwell, but it unsurprisingly had been discontinued eons prior. The replacement, Janus decided, would be a mixture of good old Worcestershire sauce and soy sauce. Russia had borders with China, Korea and Japan after all. Slightly spicy, with a umami kick to it… that resembled enough the descriptions he read.

The henchman finished noting this down, nodded, and went. Shortly before dinner time, he came back to the train with the customary bliny with sour cream and caviar… as well as this.

‘Delicious’, Janus thought at the first bite. ‘Well worthy of a tsar… I could call it the Janus salad.’

INGREDIENTS

(DISCLAIMER: the author broke the piggy bank for some of these ingredients because she made this dish for her 26th birthday. Do not feel obliged to do the same—that being said, scouring places such as Petrossian or La Grande Épicerie de Paris (a French equivalent to Harrod’s) was very fun.)

Salad (makes 3-4 servings):

2 roasted partridges (can be replaced with roasted chicken)

8 (+1, see decoration) quail eggs (can be replaced with chicken eggs)

5-6 waxy new potatoes (if you’re Janus, you’ll probably want Jersey Royals. If you’re a French frog like the author, Noirmoutiers are an excellent replacement.)

70g smoked duck magret (omit if you don’t have access to it)

Half an English cucumber

1 tbsp capers

10 black olives

Meat from the scampi claws

Scampi broth (if raw scampi are used):

Parsley

Tarragon

Dill

2 bay leaves

1 onion, quartered

1 carrot, chopped

Jamaican pepper (Bond would approve)

Coarse salt

Provençal sauce:

1 egg yolk

1 tsp Dijon mustard

2 tsp vinegar

olive oil (or olive oil + a neutral tasting oil—olive oil has a strong taste)

black pepper

garlic powder

2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

2-3 tsp soy sauce

For the decoration of 1 serving:

2 scampi (aka. langoustines)

1 lettuce leaf

The spare quail egg, halved

Chives

Black caviar (if you’ve got Janus’ unlimited funds, beluga is a must—since the author hasn’t, she used osetra instead. A good, much cheaper replacement with a similar taste would be trout roe... except it isn't as dark as Alec's soul 😆)

DIRECTIONS

Roast the partridge (or chicken) and let it cool down

Boil the potatoes and let them cool down

Boil the quail eggs for 3 minutes and let them cool down (8 minutes for chicken eggs)

Make the scampi broth. When it boils, add the raw scampi and cook for 8 minutes starting  from when the broth boils again. Remove the pot from the stove and put it in a cold water bath. Leave the pot to cool down, so that the scampi are infused with the broth.

Remove the bones from the partridge/chicken, then chop it up into small pieces along with the potatoes, cucumber, magret, eggs and meat from the scampi claws. Add capers and sliced olives

Make the Provençal sauce. Mix the egg yolk and mustard then slowly add oil while whisking, until texture is firm (an electric hand mixer helps). Add the other ingredients and mix well.

Add two generous tablespoons of Provençal sauce to the salad, then gently mix it all up.

To serve, ideally use a ring mold. Decorate the molded salad with the scampi, egg, lettuce leaf, caviar and chives.

Serve very cold. The 1894 recipe says that it should be ideally done in ‘a crystal vase, like fruit macédoine’.

Приятного аппетита! (Bon appétit!)

SOURCES:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olivier_salad (good overview)

https://liveuser.livejournal.com/77282.html (the 1894 recipe, in Russian)

https://stale.ru/en/different/olive-s-rakovymi-sheikami-gotovim-originalnye-salaty-olive-s/ (different variations of the original recipe with more complete instructions, Google (?) translated from Russian)

BONUS PICTURES:

Mmm roasted partridge

A good view on that caviar (I certainly am not going to get more any time soon, so gotta show off 😁). Also, six bliny of course.

Little birthday dessert in the same spirit:

Georgian black tea with lemon

Chocolate, lemon, raspberry and mango macarons

‘Cigarettes russes’ (Russian cigarettes), which are Belgian rolled biscuits

Raisin and lemon Scottish shortbread

Apple and honey ‘tulskiy pryanik’, a sort of gingerbread from Tula, Russia

PS: did you spot the three Sean Bean non-Alec Easter eggs in the opening blurb? 👀

[sgtprophet]

Helter n Jörgen doodles bc im swedish and idk i like it when i see swedish ppl in media

[sreabhadh]

So. I slipped and fell. And now I have a nearly 2k word long Vortex fic to release into the wild. And yes, I do mean Vortex, not TexAid- this predates Vortex's death. (Don't worry, I'm getting there, I have plans). (There as in Vortex's death. I hope it turns out as juicy as I want it to and is as juicy to others as it is to me.

Mandatory Vortex trigger warning. I would say standard TexAid warning but First Aid isn't in this one.

Blood, gore, death, violence, language, Shockwave. I am scared enough of Shockwave to consider him his own trigger warning lol.

Hope you guys like it!

**********************************************************

Vortex’s vision was filling up with red. Figuratively. They were going to pay. Vortex had figured it all out, and they were going to pay. Vortex checked the time, grinding his teeth with a furious snarl. It’s not enough. Not enough for the bastards that did this. Not enough to make them bleed until their pristine white lab coats are the brightest shade of red. Not enough to make them drown in their own precious fluids, with as many holes and cuts on their bodies as Vortex’s little brother had bandages on his body. A stab of the knife for every stab of the needle, a twist of the knife for every bruise, a slice for every inch of cloth wrapped around him. They brought Swindle to the edge of death then made him dance. Vortex was going to make them beg for such a merciful treatment, and then he would make sure they never came back.

His fingers ran over each of his weapons in each of their hidden pockets and sheaths, memorizing them physically, where each one was and how many he had of each. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have any of them. Vortex had gotten quite skilled at hiding them though, and his stockpiles had grown substantially over the years. They were going to be quite useful tonight. Tonight there was a meeting of the higher ups, to discuss the recent influx of monsters on the Western plains. Vortex hadn’t received an invitation, but he was writing his own. He’d have to write it after he was already inside, which wasn’t how invitations worked, but he needed blood to write this invitation, and he wasn’t going to use his, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to use Swindler’s. It was fine. He’d just write the invitation so it would be inviting them to hell, instead of inviting himself to the party. They had gotten lax. They’d trained their attack dog, set him loose on monsters, promoted him, given him treats and trinkets, forgetting more and more every day to worry about how his teeth would feel piercing their flesh. Vortex could act like a good boy, walk right in on their party, and unleash hell. And boy was it going to be a hell of a party.

Vortex’s vision filled with red. Literally. It was such a beautiful color. Made a real splash on the decor. Literally. The screaming had already started, though Vortex had only just begun. His first target, the one most responsible for what had been done to Swindle and the others, lay on the table choking on his own velvet-colored fluids as they eagerly ate up the horde of white sheets and notes of paper lining the table edges. Vortex’s remaining party poppers, the other inhabitants of the room had scattered, clambering over one another to get to the door. Which wasn’t working, silly thing. Them and their fancy automatic doors made of fancy metal to keep them safe. Never did work correctly when there were psychopathic murders on the loose and killing everyone in the room. How inconvenient. For them. Vortex grinned like a mad man, hopping up on the table with the glee of a 5 year old on their birthday. Like a normal 5 year old that is- Vortex couldn’t remember any birthday parties at that or any other age. He sniggered, then lost himself in a howl of truly demonic laughter. It wasn’t his birthday, but it was never too late to make up for lost time.

“WELCOME TO MY PARTY YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT!” Vortex crowed from his new table for standing on and giving ominous speeches of vengeance (now in deep cherry red, no tablecloth required to provide a pop of color).

One person was still sitting at the table, probably in shock. Vortex ignored them. He could kill them after their panic set in enough to make them scream in terror. Failing that he could just make them scream in agony.

Many in the room turned from their fleeing positions to regard him with horror. Others ignored him, banging and slamming on the door, calling for help. Ha. Idiots.

“I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY WHAT I’VE PREPARED, THOUGH NONE OF YOU CAN STAY FOR VERY LONG-”

Vortex gave the line a moment to sink in their panic-filled heads before continuing.

“AS YOU’LL ALL BE RECEIVING A PERSONAL ONE-WAY INVITATION TO A VERY SPECIAL PLACE!”

“YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF IT! IT’S MUCH BETTER THAN HERE REALLY, YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!”

“Bloody hell!” someone exclaimed. Vortex shot them in the head. The air exploded with a new chorus of shrieks and screams as vibrant as the colors that had exploded from the skull he shot. The monster-slaying caliber weapon might have been a bit overkill and then some on a human head. Some of the shrapnel embedded itself in other people’s bodies and skulls. It was perfect. The screams were delicious.

“EXACTLY! HELL! CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT! YOU ALL GET A ONE WAY TICKET TO HELL, FREE OF CHARGE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO EVERYONE, IT’S THE LAST THING YOU’LL CELEBRATE!”

That last line hadn’t come out quite how Vortex wanted, but the lab coats and neck ties were still quaking in terror, so it was doing its job regardless.

Vortex lifted the now-dead corpse on the table by the collar of its tie. This is what they would all get for hurting his family. For hurting Swindle. He wanted to yell that part more ferociously than he had anything else, but he couldn’t. He had been conditioned into not showing any weakness and not giving the enemy anything to work with. He wasn’t going to give them that. They could die not knowing exactly what they had died for, but Vortex would know. That’s what mattered.

Vortex stabbed the corpse a few dozen times for good measure. He’d been distracted enough not to notice when exactly the man had expired, but he wasn’t breathing, and never would, which Vortex took as a good thing. Disappointing that he had gone so quickly, the bastard deserved worse than that, but at least he was gone. He’d never hurt Swindle or anyone else ever again. Now for the others. Cowering and cringing before him like, well, he didn’t have anything pathetic enough to compare them to. These were the people responsible for so many deaths and so much suffering and they couldn’t handle a little blood? A single combatant? There were more than enough of them to have at least tried fighting him, but no one seemed inclined.

Or not. Vortex whipped around at the sound of a scraping chair, ready to defend himself and fell his attacking victim. To put them down like they fucking deserved. The person with the chair wasn’t attacking though. They merely had a hand on the back of it, and their face was turned away from Vortex. The hell was that about? It was the person who had stayed sitting earlier, the one in shock. What were they doing? Were they still in shock? They didn’t look like they were in shock, though Vortex couldn’t tell without being able to see their face.

Alarm bells rang in Vortex’s mind, and he instantly shifted from gleeful murder spree mode to careful predator mode. He couldn’t be sure what this person thought they had up their sleeve or what they were doing, but it wasn’t going to get in the way of his vengeance. Or his fun.

Languidly, they brought a hand up to their face, then cast it aside like a used cigarette. The mask they discarded crashed noisily against the wall and down to the floor, electronic pieces sparking and fizzing as they continued to display the holographic image of a normal person’s face. Vortex felt his heart begin to race. There was only one person on base ever rumored or seen to wear a mask. He hadn’t realized there was a holographic aspect to the mask. He’d never heard of that, but he did know of one person who supposedly wore a mask.

The figure turned, and Vortex felt a wave of terror roll over him. One eye. No face. One eye, glowing with quiet confidence and casual malice. How many people had seen Shockwave’s face and lived to tell the tale? It’s him. Vortex’s knees buckled, almost sending him spilling off the table like a fumbled glass of milk. A number of the other occupants in the room passed out.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit FUCK. It was him. He was real. He was real and staring Vortex right in the face. Unblinking with his singular nonhuman eye. It- he, Shockwave- tilted his head. A question. A challenge. That much Vortex could read in the monster’s cold humanoid figure. Vortex no longer felt like a careful predator or a gleeful 5 year old.

He felt very small, and very tiny. As insignificant and meaningless as a dented piece of equipment that had finally stopped serving its purpose. A crippled rat strung up and helpless to the slaughter. Vortex snarled, though his heart wasn’t in it. He lifted his monster-slaying gun by instinct with the battle-hardened limbs and muscles trained to work long after Vortex’s mind had taken a leave of absence. He fired. And fired again, then again, and again, releasing a halestorm of fire. Surely that would work. Surely it had to. Surely. He’d never make fun of anyone for using an overpowered gun instead of a good knife ever again. Sometimes guns were overpowered for a reason.

Sometimes being overpowered wasn’t enough. The gun overheated, safety fail clicking on, rendering it useless. The gun slipped from Vortex’s fingers, then clattered hollowly to the table. Vortex wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Find the darkest, quietest, most remote corner of existence and curl up inside it and whimper like a kicked pup. Fear. Vortex had not felt that emotion, truly felt it, been consumed by it in a very long time. He had banished it, cut it out with his bare hands and removed it forever. No longer. Vortex was afraid. More so than he had ever been in his entire life. More than every terrifying moment and memory of his life combined. He had enough to fill a stadium with, but they wilted in comparison to this. This thing. The monster. Shockwave.

Shockwave stood, unmoved, unconcerned. He, it had not a scrap of clothing left, but Shockwave had no need for human decency. Shockwave was not human. His metallic “skin” fuzzed a moment, then was replaced with the holographic image of clothing. It was a bit blurry, but it didn’t matter. The wall, the ceiling and floor, that entire section of the room had been destroyed. Shockwave stood in the midst, completely unharmed. Completely unphased.

Vortex still wanted to run. Wanted to whimper and hide. But he was dead now anyway, so he gave his best snarl, which came out as a half-choked hiss, and lunged, aiming for that singular sinister eye with his good knife hand.

Shockwave caught him by the throat, and Vortex felt the hologram fizz uncomfortably against the skin beneath the vice grip of Shockwave’s cold metal fingers. Vortex’s body moved reflexively, mind working desperately, but his attempts were as fruitless as before. He could kick, punch, jab and twist as finely as the best trained wolf, which he was, but in Shockwave’s grasp he was but a mewling pup.

Shockwave slammed Vortex into the wall, and Vortex heard himself cry out. It was a far away sound, and his vision swam, the concussion from the blow already threatening to shut his brain down. Shockwave slammed him into the wall again, and Vortex groaned, unbeknownst to himself. His body rag-dolled limply in Shockwave’s grasp. Vortex was out like the light of a birthday candle on a lone velvet cupcake.

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

you see i lwk do fw mexican goro because you just have to imagine him growing up with spanish songs played from shitty radios as his mother tries her hardest to give him some semblance of what she grew up with in a country that’s across the ocean from her home where it’s just the two of the them and u also have to imagine nights where they sing along and dance aimlessly but he’s just a kid and so much shorter than her, so she grabs his hands and they sing amor prohibido and como la flor, from a voice goro doesn’t recognize but she tells him was her favorite, the lyrics flowing beautifully from her tongue but a bit choppy with goro’s patchwork spanish. those are the precious few moments goro keeps ingrained with him, and it’s the very same reason why he vows to never speak spanish again or engage in any part of that culture, his culture, once she dies.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

asked my dad what immersion blender my mom wanted, bc I told her I'd get it for her birthday, and then I ended up spending over $100 on it at Williams-Sonoma 😭

[fishparasite]

the dungeon meshi effect where you stop reading dungeon meshi to go make yourself a delicious meal or snack

[balkanradfem]

Spent an hour and a half making horseradish sauce. I had to grate it for an hour and it stung so bad I was in tears the entire time, but my sinuses are now very clear.

Now that I'm done and have my sauce, I cannot for the love of heaven remember in what way I consume it. Do I make bread and eat it with bread? Do I make tortillas and then use it on them? I think what I used to do was mix it with salsa or tomato-based sauces to make them spicy, and then I would put that on tortillas, but this year there's been next to no tomatoes and I don't have my usual stuff.

I actually have to look this up! Also everyone please share with me how do you consume horseradish, I need some ideas.

[feyburner]

have you made pandesal before? I saw a recipe on jeanelleats and it looks so good 😋

Yes I have! I love pandesal. I have only made plain before but I love the cheese kind as well. I want to make ube cheese pandesal at some point!

Edit: I just looked up Jeanelleats. This recipe for Pandan Pandesal Loaf looks amazing…. I’m NOT buying a shokupan loaf tin but if I had one…. Pandan is one of my favorite flavors…..

I will be exploring her recipes further. Thank you for the rec!

[mxwhore]

What’s your favorite sandwiches

when it comes to food, im a homely guy. nothing tops our chilean sammys

[hopetorun]

the thing about summer is that sure you get sweaty or whatever but no other season gives me this and it’s so delicious i could happily eat it for the rest of my life

[cheapcheapfaker]

i think about that tik tok that had its rounds around here about, i believe, German vs Vietnamese hospitality? Where the German thought the dinner would be done but the Vietnamese thought the host and guest would be cooking together. And I present a third option where I’d love to help you cook dinner but if you hand me a rainbow cuisinart knife and a glass cutting board i am killing myself in your kitchen immediately except the blade is so dull i have to do it real sloppily and its going to take a while

[moonskyearth]

egg, evo oil, vinegar, salt, turmeric powder, black pepper

[beansnpeets]

I tried to make homemade mayo and it was really bad 😞

[strengthandsunshine]

These authentic Homemade Corn Tortillas are soft, foldable, fresh, and naturally gluten-free! This 3 ingredient recipe for gluten-free corn tortillas is ready in minutes and only requires masa harina, hot water, and salt! Vegan and allergy-friendly, these healthy yellow corn tortillas are perfect for taco night or your next Mexican feast! Homemade Gluten-Free Corn Tortillas https://wp.me/p4UrDz-899