#lasagna taste fine ish

[anxietyfrappuccino]

"you're not autistic" then why is eating the worst thing ever then why am i ordering plain shit and doubling my side order when given the option of two sides then why is lasagna so fucking gross then why does someone changing the recipe always taste like shit until i get used to it then why is everyone always joking i only eat the same three things then why does texture matter over taste then why do i have to eat everything a specific way

[hardtchill]

Mind sharing the recipe?🙄

Lol it's super easy.

Bechamel sauce is 50 grams of unsalted butter, 50 grams of flour and 500ml of whole milk. Just add salt and pepper for taste. I usually do this first because you really need to be there and whisk it constantly otherwise it burns. Just melt the butter, add the flour and while whisking add the milk. When almost done add a little bit of nutmeg. (you can also add grated cheese for a cheesy bechamel sauce)

Meat sauce is 500 grams of ground beef, 3 bell peppers, 1 leek, 300ish grams of fresh spinach, 2 onions, 3 cloves of garlic (i love garlic), salt and pepper. The tomato sauce is from a jar, i usually just get a 100% tomato one so not the ones with sugar or like spices added because that just makes it less healthy. All the vegetables and spices you add yourself is enough to make it taste awesome.

The lasagna sheets are fresh-ish, i don't make them myself, but they are made fresh at a store here. I like them a lot better than the packaged ones that are really hard (but that can definitely work too, i have made it before with the hard sheets and it tasted completely fine and they are a lot cheaper).

For the building, you can do all kinds of variations, i like to start with a layer of sheets covered in Bechamel + meat sauce + grated cheese (i like parmesan, but you can use whatever you prefer). After that i just keep going until i run out of sauce. The top layer has meat sauce + bechamel and all the left over cheese for a really crunchy layer.

I cook a big ass oven dish for 30 minutes on 180 degrees (celsius), afterwards i just poke it with something long to make sure it's heated all the way through.

Really that's about it, super easy and you have at least 6 days of food if you're eating alone. I'm going to freeze 4 portions + plus keep one in the fridge for tomorrow)

Best of all this meal in total cost me around 12 euro's to make (so around 2 euro's a meal over 6 days) and that's without special deals which i can usually get on the beef and cheese.

[ayellowcurtain]

my request is top Robbe. nothing less nothing more.

-

My lovely anon, you asked for top Robbe, but you didn’t ask for smut, so...

But you got a little bit of both, I guess hahaha This is a warning, there are some food involved and - hints - of smut, so if that’s not your thing, I suggest you not to read it 

Robbe is insecure, he planned everything, but now that’s about to happen, he’s starting to doubt himself, to think Sander will think this is weird or too much or just be completely turned off by it.

His mom never leaves the house, especially not for a whole weekend and so he might never have a chance again, he had to give it a try. The tone of the conversation with Sander has been different since Robbe decided to ask him not to plan anything for this weekend. They’re generally flirty with each other, but it feels more real now, on the edge of constantly dirty talking.

Even his trip to the grocery store felt like he was committing a crime or something.

Honey, strawberries, whipped cream, champagne, lime, salt, tequila, scented candles, bath bombs, condoms…  

That was everything Robbe could think to buy for his plan, but they would have to eat real food at some point and so Robbe shoved all the special groceries to the back of his cart and he covered everything with the mundane things. Bread, cheese, ketchup, frozen lasagna, soda, beers. Thankfully, Robbe didn’t run into anyone at the grocery store, he managed to pay and put everything away as fast as it was possible.

Even though his secret plan was safe, Robbe couldn’t stop thinking that someone was managing to see through his bag and see all that he had bought. As he was walking past a pharmacy, he remembered the most important detail that he had completely forgotten.

Robbe holds the strap of his backpack tighter, closing his eyes. So fucking dumb!

He turns himself on his heels, walking shamefully inside the pharmacy and the old lady behind the balcony is already looking at him, ready to help and Robbe wishes he wasn’t this dumb.

“How can I help you, sweetie?”

“Hm, I’m looking for a sleeping mask, a very good one. I-I have problems sleeping and my doctor suggested a sleeping mask.” The lady was nodding her head in the middle, but Robbe decided to give her a full lie just in case she didn’t believe him.

-

“Okay, I’m here. What now?” Robbe can hear Sander’s excited smile on his voice and he tries to use it to ease his nerves a little.

“Come up, knock on the door, and wait for me to give you instructions.”

Sander laughs on the other side of the line and Robbe prays he’s not losing Sander’s interest by not giving him any details. “Not sketchy at all…”

“Don’t you trust me?” Robbe stops, biting his nails, looking at everything he organized, thinking it really depends on how much Sander trusts him.

“Of course I do. I’m on my way. I love you.”

“I love you!” Robbe laughs as he hangs up, looking at his phone again, making sure just one more time that his mom is only coming back on Monday afternoon.

He rushes inside his bedroom, everything is where it’s supposed to be, nothing in the way to his bed. Robbe runs through his plan inside his head again and Sander knocks on the door, one time.

Robbe walks back and stops at the door, shaking his head. You’re not doing anything wrong. Stop it!

“I can see your feet under the door, Robbe…” Sander laughs and Robbe unlocks the door, holding the sleeping mask tighter, biting his lip as their eyes finally meet through the small gap Robbe opened “Hello, cutie!”

He notices how Sander looks at him and then at every little thing he can see from inside, trying to piece some hints together. “Hello, you. I have one last request.”

Sander is taken aback, raising his eyebrows, clearly amused and he nods his head slowly. Robbe holds the sleeping mask behind him, making sure that there’s no weird feeling in Sander’s face. Slowly, he shows Sander what he was hiding behind him.

“You need to put this on. You’re not going to take it off for a while, so make sure it’s comfortable.”

If Sander was in shock before, he’s pleasantly surprised now, needing a second to react, grabbing the sleeping mask carefully, analyzing it as he holds it with both hands.

“A sleeping mask…”

“Yeah. You trust me, right?”

“Yes, Robin. Blindly.” The joke was there to be taken, but Sander says it so seriously, like his mouth is suddenly dry and his voice is lower and Robbe knows his boyfriend will like his plans for the weekend. Or for tonight, at least.

Sander puts the mask on one time, takes it off, adjusts the strap, and then puts it back on, adjusting the height and making sure it is sitting comfortably, snuggling around his eyes. He smiles and opens his arms.

“All yours, cutie.”

Robbe takes a deep breath in, trying to fill himself with all the courage and self-confidence available in the air. He loves to climb all over Sander and let him lead, but this sounded like a good time inside his head.

He steps closer, gently holding Sander’s hand, pulling him inside, leading him to his bedroom door.

“You want something to drink?”

“Do I have options?”

“Yeah, of course, yeah. Champagne, your favorite beer, soda, tequila, water…” Robbe tries to look at all the drinks on display on his nightstand, but he knows what Sander is going to ask as soon as he mentions it. Sander raised his eyebrows and Robbe has to look back at him.

“Tequila, please.”

Robbe nods his head like Sander could see it and he pours a shot for his boyfriend, watching as he blindly takes his jacket off, leaving the leather jacket fall heavy on the floor. Robbe holds his hand again and helps him take his shot.

“And you? Aren’t you going to drink?”

“Yes, if you could only wait a second.” Robbe teases as he pours a shot for himself in the glass Sander just used. As to show Sander he’s doing it, Robbe holds his hand and puts it on his face as he looks up, taking the shot. Sander smiles and holds his face, pulling him closer for a quick kiss.

“You’re so fucking hot, Robbe.” He whispers against his lips and Robbe smiles, making sure to look at Sander’s face as he commands.

“Clothes off, every piece of it, and then I’ll take you to bed.”

Robbe really tries to keep his voice cold, but mostly fails at it, he can hear how rough and anxious he sounded, but it seems to work just fine because Sander takes a deep breath in and nods his head quietly, starting to take his clothes off, careful not to take his blindfold out of place.

While he waits, Robbe can’t look at him doing it. Somehow, even with a blindfold, Sander can be so sexy while taking his clothes off. So he focuses on bringing his other nightstand closer to the other side of his bed, letting everything close enough so he can reach while in bed. 

Honey, whipped cream, strawberries, condoms.

“What now?” Sander asks and Robbe comes back to what’s really important, he looks at Sander and loses focus for a second. Sander, completely naked, at his mercy, standing right next to his bed, still wearing his sleeping mask, trusting Robbe to do whatever he wants with him.

-

Sander wakes up suddenly, opening his eyes, seeing black still. He smiles to himself as his brain paints him the perfect picture of what happened last night. It wasn’t a dream, good. Sander feels heavy and light at the same time, he feels like he might combust and turn into stardust, his limbs are heavy, tingling and he moves to lie on his back to fix that, pulling his dead arm from underneath him. 

With the functioning arm, he pushes the blindfold up to his forehead, struggling to see anything when the real world is so bright. He closes his eyes again, needing a minute to readjust his eyes to the sun, shining bright outside Robbe’s bedroom. Once he feels a little more aware of the light, he tries to open his eyes again, feeling his lips dry, a little sticky. He licks it and tastes the strawberries and whipped cream still. Maybe something else too, the best taste ever.

He moves his head to the opposite side of the window and finds him. The causer of all of this, the taste, the stardust, the heavy limbs, the sore muscles.

Robbe is still asleep, lying very close to Sander and on his stomach, his lips are puffy and Sander remembers a second of last night more clearly. He pushed the blindfold up and found Robbe on his lap, Sander scratching his back, a dirty kiss and he lost it, he needed to see more, to taste better, to know what Robbe was doing, but it only lasted a second.

Robbe is great at multitasking, not stopping his circular movements with his hips and the dirty kiss as he pulled the blindfold to cover Sander’s eyes again.

Sander feels like he was falling from the highest mountain after that, lying back on the bed, feeling Robbe’s hands on his ribs, keeping him in place, still moving on top of him.

It feels like he was the highest he’s ever been. He could hear and feel everything much more intensely, it’ll probably take days for him to recover from what happened last night. All thanks to the boy lying right next to him, always so adventurous, ready to try anything.

They definitely need a shower, a bath would be easier to clean all the dry things in their bodies right now, but Sander is in no rush. They definitely need some rest after last night.

Sander wants to go again, but Robbe is sleeping so peacefully, it would be mean to wake him up. So he gets up before he can find an excuse to wake Robbe. 

The bedroom is surprisingly clean. From what Sander heard, he thought it would be a war zone and it is, but there’s no more food around them, no drinks, just his pile of clothes right next to the door where he undressed last night and Robbe’s clothes around the bed, Sander remembers helping him get rid of some items. 

The sheets are dirty, maybe stained, with tones of brown-ish yellow, bright red, but Sander thinks it looks like a masterpiece, especially with Robbe on top of it all, looking so perfect and sleepy.

He finds what’s left of the strawberries inside the fridge, right next to the whipped cream. He grabs both of them and puts it on the counter, thinking about waffles with strawberry jam and whipped cream. They need some fat to regain their energies.

Once he’s almost done, he grabs the whipped cream can and shakes it, it’s almost empty, he has to work hard to cover the waffle pile.

He remembers eating some of it, but mostly was Robbe, some whipped cream is still sticking to his skin in odd places to have whipped cream on, but thinking about it does sound like a good idea. Robbe is a genius.

[trashcanreddiefan]

The 2nd Annual Losers' Club Christmakkah Celebration

Summary: The Losers gather for their second annual Christmakkah celebration, and there is a special gift under the tree with Richie’s name on it.

Word Count: 2800-ish

Warnings: None whatsoever. This is pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Post-Chapter 2. All of the Losers are alive in this fic, including Stan, because canon can suck it. 2nd in a (at least) 3-part series where the Losers take turns hosting Christmakkah. Part 1 here.

CROSS-POSTED AT AO3.

“I checked in for our flight to Atlanta,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen where his boyfriend, Eddie, was currently leaning down and peeking in on something that was baking in their oven. He wrapped his arms around Eddie. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

“I’m making a lasagna,” Eddie replied, straightening up and turning to greet Richie.

Richie planted a kiss on the top of his head before nuzzling his neck. “I meant you, babe.” He gently grazed Eddie’s pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Taste even better.”

Eddie shivered, then leaned back with a smile. He tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “Hi.”

“Mmm. Hey yourself. How was your thesis presentation?”

“Good, really good. Dr. Cubillas seemed really happy with my research and asked me if I’d be interested in a TA position once I start the Master’s program next semester.”

Richie grinned. “Eds, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks, Rich. I know my savings won’t last forever, so I’m glad I was able to get this 2nd Bachelor’s so quickly and it’d be good if I could make some extra money working for the university while pursuing my Master’s. Plus then I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in student loan debt after I graduate since my tuition would be covered.”

“Eds, I told you, if you need money I’ll give it to you, however much you need. I’d have zero problem with being your sugar daddy.”

Before Eddie could even protest, he added, “but I know how much your financial independence means to you, so just know the offer stands. I love you and I’m willing to support you in whatever way you need, be it financial, emotional, physical…” he trailed off as his hands slid down to palm Eddie’s ass, giving both cheeks a hearty squeeze.

Eddie shook his head fondly. “I love you too, Richie. And thank you.” They stood there in silence for a bit, just enjoying being in each other’s arms.

Richie could hardly believe that this was his life. Less than a year ago he had thought that he would be destined to be in lifelong (not counting the 27-year-long asshole clown-induced amnesia) unrequited love with his married, straight childhood best friend. But during the Losers’ first Christmakkah celebration, Eddie had not only announced to the Losers that he had divorced his wife and quit his job, but he had also told Richie privately that he was moving to Los Angeles to go to nursing school, and – the best news of all –  that he was in love with Richie.

So now, a year later, Richie stood in his kitchen with the love of his life in his arms, getting ready to fly out to Stan’s house for their 2nd annual Losers’ Christmakkah Celebration.

Finally, Eddie reluctantly extracted himself from Richie’s embrace. “I need to get the lasagna out.”

“Ok, babe. I’m gonna go shower before dinner.” Richie gave Eddie one last kiss before heading to their bedroom.

He had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself when Eddie called out, “Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?” Richie replied, walking into their bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

Eddie stood by their bed. “The teddy bear you ordered for Olivia just came in.”

Olivia was Stan and Patty’s 3-month-old daughter and the first of a new generation of Losers. She had Stan’s curly hair and Patty’s nose, and already had her uncles and aunt wrapped around her finger.

“Ok great, thanks.” Richie walked over to Eddie and wrapped his arms around him.

“I already got it in a bag and put it in the suitcase with the rest of Liv’s gifts.”

“Ok so that should be it, right? I have Bill’s gift in my suitcase and you said you had Mike’s gift shipped directly to Stan’s, right?”

This year, instead of deciding not to exchange gifts (since last year they tried that and everyone wound up bringing presents regardless) the Losers had decided to do a “holiday gift exchange” where each Loser was randomly assigned one of the others’ names and bought that person a gift.

Richie had been assigned Bill, and in true Richie fashion had bought him a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel as a gag gift. (He had also bought him a first edition copy of Dracula as his actual gift; Richie was a bit of a prankster, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.)

Eddie glanced over at his suitcase. “Yeah, just so it’s less that we have to carry. You’re all packed then?”

Richie quirked an eyebrow and bit back a grin. “Well no, that’s what I have you for.”

“Wait a minute, you mean our flight leaves in less than 15 hours and you’re not packed yet?” Eddie’s voice went up in pitch with each word.

Richie couldn’t keep a straight face. “Eds, babe, I’m kidding, calm down. I packed a couple of days ago according to the list you gave me. Even folded my shirts and everything.”

“That was so not funny.”  Eddie glowered at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm, true,” Richie said sincerely, pulling Eddie even closer and tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive.”

He could feel the residual tension leave Eddie’s body. “Now, I take it that dinner’s ready, and not only that but we have an early flight to catch, so let’s eat and get ready for bed.”

____________________________________________________________

“…This is your captain speaking. I’d like to personally welcome you to Atlanta, Georgia.The time is 2:40 pm and the temperature is 61 degrees. On behalf of all of us, thank you for flying Delta.”

Richie pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Stan as soon as he and Eddie deplaned. Eds and I just landed. On our way as soon as we get our luggage.

Stan the Man: Ben & Bev and Mike are already here and I think Bill & Audra’s flight should be arriving in about an hour and a half.

Stan the Man: Eddie has our address. See you guys soon.

Richie put his phone away as he & Eddie made their way to baggage claim to collect their luggage, and soon they were on their way to Stan and Patty’s house.

Upon arriving they hauled their suitcases up Stan’s porch steps and rang the doorbell.

Stan answered the door. “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it.”

“Staniel! How’s it going?” Richie gave Stan a quick hug before turning to Patty, who was holding Olivia. “Patty, looking beautiful, as always. And how’s my favorite niece?” he cooed at Olivia.

“Hey, I take offense to that,��� Beverly said jokingly as she entered the room, rubbing her growing stomach. “As I’m sure do Bill and Audra.”

Richie gave her a peck on the cheek. “Well, considering both you and Audra are having boys, Liv will continue to be my favorite niece. But don’t worry, whoever gets named after me will get the title of favorite nephew.”

“Well too bad for you then, huh?” Bev laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows that Uncle Richie will spoil Little Benson and Wilson just as much as I spoil Olivia.”

“I’m sure you will,” Eddie said coming up from behind him and giving Beverly a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. “Bev, how have you been feeling?”

“Just fine,” Beverly answered. “Baby’s doing great.”

“So where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?” Richie asked.

Beverly grinned. “You know how he & Mike are when they get together. They’re looking at pictures from Mike’s trip to New Orleans last month. Appreciating the architecture.”

Richie snorted. “Nerds.”

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Stan said. “I know you both probably want to take a nap and a shower before the festivities tonight.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but a nap does sound wonderful,” Beverly added. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”

Stan led them to one of the spare bedrooms with its own private bathroom. “We’re planning on dinner at six, so you guys can come down at any time.”

“Oh, hey, what are we doing with the gifts?” Richie asked. “We have some for Olivia and I have my exchange gift.”

“I think we’re putting them by the Christmakkah tree,” Stan said. “Thanks for the menorah ornaments, by the way.”

Richie grinned. “I couldn’t pass them up.”

Eddie grabbed the suitcase with the gifts before Richie could get to it. “Here, Rich, why don’t you go ahead and rest and I’ll go put the gifts under the tree? I’ll be right back.”

Before Richie could answer Eddie was carefully wheeling the suitcase back downstairs.

Richie shook his head fondly. That’s my Eddie.  

As much as Eddie had changed over the past 27 years, at his core he was still Eddie.  He was still the same neurotic, foul-mouthed, caring little shit that Richie had fallen in love with all those years ago.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

The thought shouldn’t have surprised Richie – after all, he had had the same thought once before when they were teenagers – but now, now, he could; that is, if Eddie would have him. Does Eddie even want to get married again?

Although they were 100% committed to each other, marriage wasn’t exactly something they had talked about.

Still, Richie let his mind wander, thinking about going out and buying a ring, planning the perfect proposal (maybe the day Eddie got his Master’s degree? Richie wasn’t sure he could wait any longer than that), sliding the ring onto Eddie’s finger…

He was still thinking when Eddie came back into the room. “Okay, Olivia’s gifts are all set out, and we really should’ve gotten something for Ben & Bev and Bill & Audra’s kids, maybe each like a onesie or something.”

He walked over to Richie and lay down next to him on the bed, noticing the obviously sappy look on Richie’s face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Marry me, Richie thought, but instead said, “God, I love you.”

Eddie’s face instantly softened. “I love you too.”

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Richie continued. “I know the past year hasn’t been easy but you’ve kicked ass and managed to get your nursing degree in 3 semesters–”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, only because all the anatomy and health classes I took the first time I was in college managed to transfer once I tested out of them, not to mention the fact that I took the max number of hours each semester and also took summer classes while you were on tour instead of going with you.”

“And not only that, but you received your degree with a 4.0 and was offered a TA position when you start the graduate program next semester.” Richie scooted closer and rolled his hips into Eddie’s. “Mmm, just thinking about playing nurse with my brilliant boyfriend is getting me all hot. Can’t wait to call you ‘Nurse Kaspbrak’ in bed.”

Eddie’s face contorted in an adorable combination of rage and laughter. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

Richie laughed. “No but really, I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds and I’m honored to be along for the ride.”

“Thank you, Rich. I’m glad you’re part of it too.” Eddie gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Now rest, we’ve got an exciting night ahead.”

__________________________________________________________

After a few hours’ nap Richie woke up to an empty bed but could hear the shower running.

He contemplated drifting back off to sleep when he heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. “Rich? You awake? It’s 5:15.”

Richie stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbing for his glasses as he sat up. “Yeah, babe, I’m up.”

Eddie gave him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna get dressed and head downstairs to see if Stan and Patty need help with anything while you’re in the shower. Meet you down there?”

Richie nodded, then slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in the outfit Eddie had laid out on the bed for him – a soft lime green cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans – and headed down the stairs, where he rounded the corner to see all the Losers together.

He greeted Ben and Mike, then Bill and Audra, placing a gentle hand on Audra’s stomach when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick.

He turned when he heard the click of a camera and looked up to see Eddie putting his phone away. “Blackmail photos?” he said jokingly. “Come on, Eds, all you have to do is ask in order to get me in more compromising positions.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gotta document you being cute since it happens so rarely.”

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for their gift exchange. Richie took a sleeping Olivia while Stan and Patty opened her gifts.

The Losers gifted her with various toys, clothes (“I’m thinking about starting a children’s clothing line,” Beverly explained when Patty pulled a beautiful hand-stitched dress out of a gift bag), and other necessities for a baby.

Richie looked down when Olivia stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Well hello, princess,” Richie cooed. “You decided to wake up for Uncle Richie?”

He grinned as Olivia smiled at him. “Aww look, Eds, she’s smiling at me! Yes, you think Uncle Richie is funny, don’t you?”

“She’d be the only one,” Stan said dryly as he took her in order to change her now that she was awake.

“Hey, I will have you know that all of my jokes are now Eddie-approved,” Richie replied.

Eddie shrugged. “What can I say, his stand-up has improved since firing his writer.”

Once Stan had come back and set Olivia in her bassinet, it was time for the adults to exchange gifts.

Once Bill, Audra, Ben, Bev, Mike, and Patty (who had Patty, Ben, Eddie, Audra, Stan, and Bev, respectively) all had gone, Stan stood. “I had Mike,” he announced, before handing Mike his gift.

Richie glanced over at Eddie, who was studying the hem of his sweater as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He opened his mouth to say something to Eddie when Stan interrupted. “Rich, you want to go next?”

Richie glanced to where 7 pairs of eyes were staring at him. “Uh, yeah, ok.”

He stood and handed Bill’s gift to him. “Merry Christmakkah, man.”

Bill laughed at the copy of Save the Cat. “I figure it’ll help you learn how to write an ending,” Richie joked.

“Thanks, Richie. This is so great.”

Richie sat back down on the sofa and Stan turned to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s your turn.”

Eddie went to the tree and grabbed a wrapped present. “I really did have it shipped here so you wouldn’t be nosing in the closets trying to find it.”

Richie ripped open the wrapping paper. “Eds, baby, this is fantastic! Thank you so much.” Eddie had bought him a new Bluetooth-enabled, all-in-one record player.

“There’s um, there’s something else, too,” Eddie said, heading back to the tree.

Richie watched as Stan and Eddie seemed to have a silent conversation before Eddie nodded, picking up a small, light blue gift bag. He silently handed it to Richie.

“Aww, thanks, babe.”

Richie untied the white ribbon that was keeping the bag shut, stuck his hand inside…

… And pulled out a note.

“Uh, Eds, baby, it’s customary to give the gag gift BEFORE giving the real gift,” he said jokingly.

“Just read it,” Eddie replied. He seemed nervous.

Richie unfolded the note. In Eddie’s neat handwriting were 5 words:

Richie, will you marry me?

What. He looked up and froze.

Eddie was down on one knee in front of him, a platinum ring in his hands.

Richie blinked. “Eds?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Richie, exactly one year ago we took one of the biggest leaps of our lives together.  Will you take another with me tonight and make me the happiest man alive?”

Richie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fuck yes,” he said, then pulled Eddie to him for a kiss.

Cheers and congratulations filled his ears.

Eddie slid the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much,” he whispered against Richie’s lips.

“I love you too.”

In the meantime, Stan and Patty had grabbed a bottle of champagne (sparkling grape juice for Bev and Audra) and had poured everyone a glass. “A toast!” Stan declared. “To Eddie and Richie: May you be friends to each other as only lovers can; and may you love each other as only best friends can. Mazel tov!”

“Mazel tov!” everyone else echoed as they raised their glasses.

Richie looked around at his friends – no, his family – as they all took a sip of their drinks, then down at Eddie, who was looking up at him with the same love and admiration that Richie himself felt for Eddie.

“Merry Christmakkah, Rich,” Eddie said softly.

“Merry Christmakkah, Eds,” he whispered before leaning down and connecting his lips to his fiance’s.

[nightimedreamersworld]

4, 7, 13, 16, 17, 19, 41, 42!! ✨💞 (woops, these r a lot 👀👀)

Helloooo thank you for the asks!! :D it's totally fine tbh, I love these!! (Cute 👌🏻)

Let's go:

4. how do you take your coffee/tea?

Oh, actually.. I don't drink tea or coffee (tbh I haven't even tasted them.) But like, I think if I were to try to drink coffee, I'd put something overly sweet on it (..thus ruining it jssjsbskd).

7. do you name your plants?

The first and last time I tried to grow plants was almost ten years ago. That experiment where you put beans in a cotton, you know? Mine didn't last a week.

So, uh.. no, I don't even have any plants to name, sorry.

13. what’s something that made you smile today?

This ask <3. And also my math teacher, even though I can't understand half of his subject. Oh, and the ideas I had for a certain Fem! Snowbaz Victorian AU, tho I probably won't be working on it anytime soon.

16. what’s your favorite pasta dish?

This one is difficult because I eat a lot of pasta. But I guess I'm going with spaghetti. Or lasagna. Or pizza.. oh no.

17. what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Right now, a boring and preferably uniform black. I've had enough hair adventures—from blue to green to?? I don't even know what color was that. Ginger..ish.

19. do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I don't! But tbh I wish I had the kind of patience and discipline to keep one. I think they're so cute and neat! But I'm not this kind of person, unfortunately.

(but if I could keep one, I'd probably use it to keep track of the books I read and the movies/series I watch. And probably to keep track of my fic ideas, too.)

41. what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Aside from Carry On.. let me think.

I think it's been a while since I liked a book this much. But last year I read this book and I loved it—though a quieter kind of love, I think. It was The weight of the Stars, by K. Ancrum. It's a tale about love and found family, growing above your circumstances, with sprinkles of sci-fi (space trips anyone??) (bonus points for girls in love stargazing), lots of lgbtq+ rep. But I guess I liked it so much because.. it's really intimate. Raging and soft at the same time. My heart was torn and put back together so many times while reading.

(hey @theflyingpeach I was meaning to tell you about this book, btw).

42. do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

Again.. no coffee for me shsjsak. Guess I'll never live a coffee shop AU ;(. BUT I have a favorite cookie place :D AND a favorite milkshake place! Seriously, milkshake. You can visit Bob's in two different cities and ask for me and they'll just know who you're talking about.

(I moved to another city last year and I come to visit my parents monthly. One time, like, six fucking months after my move I was at a Bob's and the cashier just asked "the usual, right?") (just to give you an idea.)

[timelordthirteen]

Killing Time 3/?

Detective Weaver/Belle French, Mature

Summary: A Woven Beauty Law & Order-ish AU. Written for Writer’s Month 2019.

Chapter Summary: Belle and Weaver go back to his place, but the immediate aftermath of her attack, and being in the home they shared, is a little more than either of them is prepared for.

Notes: For prompt #5 of Writer's Month: sound. Oh man. Y'all, I have such plans for this and I feel like I'll fail miserably at doing all of it. A couple new tags added: PTSD and Nightmares.

Warnings: Blood, non-graphic violence, injuries, PTSD, nightmares, and a host of other things. Please see AO3 for complete tags and warnings.

[AO3]  Previous: [1] [2]

The ride to their former shared residence was quiet, save for the patter of rain that had started to fall. Belle was uncharacteristically still. Usually she would fidget in the car, adjusting the air vents every few minutes, running her fingernail around the button for the window, or looking at her phone. Weaver stole a glance at her when they stopped at a light, his lips pressed in a tight, thin line. She was looking out the window, her face illuminated by a strange mix of red, green, and yellow lights from outside.

He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what was appropriate for the situation. Usually he was watching others deal with the aftermath of a violent crime, family members, victims, witnesses, all processing events differently and trying to make sense of what their lives were now. He preferred being part of catching the perpetrator, helping bring some measure of closure to a chapter most people wanted to forget. It was outside of the sticky, emotional mess, almost passive in a way compared to the turmoil that went on inside the people he watched. This was wholly different. This was Belle, and whether she wanted him to be or not, he felt he should be a far more active participant. They both knew from the outside the things that would and could happen, but it didn't necessarily prepare you for the experience.

He pulled the car over in the first available space on the block, and looked over at Belle.

“You're sure you want to stay here?” he asked, resting his hand on the gear shift. “I could take you to a hotel, or one of the department’s safe houses?”

Belle gave him a wry smile. “A Motel 6 by the airport? No thanks.”

He nodded in acquiescence and opened the car door. “Whatever the lady wants.”

Her smile was just a little bit sly, but it faded quickly as she stepped inside the old building. It was the first time she'd been back since Sabine helped her move out her, since she'd made their separation as final as it could be. It was strange how she still sometimes thought of the top floor loft as home, how her apartment seemed like only a place to sleep and not a sanctuary from the harsh reality of the city the way the place they shared had been. There was something about the brick and stone, the old beams and exposed ducting, that for all it's cool industrial vibe, made her feel warm and safe.

The old elevator had been refurbished recently, with a new set of proper sliding doors instead of the ancient iron gate that had to be manually opened and closed. She commented on it and Weaver shrugged, mumbling something about bloody building codes. They shared a brief, amused look that shifted as they came to a stop at the top floor.

Belle waited while he unlocked the door and the deadbolt, and punched in the PIN code to turn off the alarm. It was still her birthday month and day, judging by the familiar tones of the buttons, and it made her second guess whether any of this was a good idea.

She followed him inside, glancing around the space as he relocked the door, noting the little things that had changed. The pictures on the mantle were gone, which wasn't that surprising given that most of them were of the two of them, and he'd replaced the floor lamp by the recliner. The one that had been there before had a little adjustable reading light on the side she liked to use in the evenings when he was working late. It made sense why he wouldn't want it around anymore, too many memories of coming home to find her curled up in a blanket, an open book or her Kindle on her lap, asleep in its glow.

He'd carry her to bed so gently she almost never woke up.

Weaver took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of the barstools that sat at the kitchen island. Most of the place was the same as when she left. He kept the same furniture, the same arrangement of everything. He didn’t need to wonder if she had noticed. Her eyes were moving around the room, taking it all in again, and he bit back a sigh.

"Hasn't changed much,” she said finally. It was as if he'd just removed the last bits of her from his life and carried on. Something about that made her chest tight, but she turned to see him watching and forced a smile.

He shrugged. "Are you hungry? Did you eat anything before...?"

He gestured towards her, and she shook her head. “No, that's actually what I was doing when he...” She she looked down briefly at her bloodied clothes and then shifted her eyes over his shoulder and into the kitchen. Her voice seemed far away when she spoke. “I was staring into the fridge trying to decide what sounded edible.”

“Leftover lo mein from Chang's or cold Hawaiian pizza from Mario's?”

He smirked when she looked at him, and she halfheartedly glared back. “It was lasagna from Mario’s if you must know.”

He raised his hands, lips still curved in a bemused smile. At least they could tease each other and avoid some of the awkward tension. “I stand corrected. So, no, you haven't eaten then. Do you want... some eggs?”

A soft sigh slipped out and she nodded. It was her old standby when nothing sounded good, or she didn't have the energy for anything else. Whenever she came home late, lost a case, or had a bad day, he would make her a big, fluffy plate of scrambled eggs. It was simple and somehow always one of the best things she'd ever tasted. That was probably because he made them just for her.

Somehow they were never quite the same when she had to make them herself.

Weaver moved around the island and took out a pan before moving to the refrigerator and pulling it open.

She could have sat down at the breakfast bar and watched him cook, just like old times, but she was covered almost head to toe in dried, crusted blood, some of it hers, some of it not. The thought made her cringe. “I'm gonna shower if that's okay?”

“Of course.” He swallowed and turned away from the fridge with a carton of eggs in his hand. “Two or three?”

Her teeth pulled at her lip for a moment before she answered, “Just two, please.”

She heard the rattle of the pan against the stovetop as she turned and walked to the bathroom.

The shower did Belle a world of good, even if halfway through she was nearly scared out of her skin by Weaver slipping in to leave her a shirt and a pair of shorts to wear.

She had completely forgotten about not having any clothes or toiletries in the chaos of the incident, the police, and the hospital. Fortunately, Weaver had kept some of the things she’d left behind like partial bottles of her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, tucked away on the bottom shelf of the cabinet. She didn’t want to think about why.

He showered while she was eating, and for a little while, it felt like she’d gone back in time, as if the last two years were all a bad dream. Part of her wished that were true. It would be so easy to slip back into old habits, but she wasn’t sure if they could reclaim the comfort and ease with which they’d integrated into each others lives.

They were different people now, weren’t they?

Weaver came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, bare but for a towel around his waist, right as she was putting her plate in the sink. It nearly slipped from her hand, and the sharp clatter of the fork hitting the stainless steel, startled him and made him stop.

“All right?” he asked, gripping the top of the towel with one hand.

Belle nodded and looked down at her hands, feeling a warmth creep up the back of her neck. “Fine.”

He gave her a strange look before he went into the bedroom, and she blew out a breath. This was ridiculous. They’d seen each other naked more times than she could count, even fairly recently, and there was no reason either of them should feel ashamed or awkward. She knew she’d feel safer and probably sleep better knowing Ian was nearby, but the tension created by everything that had happened in the last few weeks was getting worse. Something needed to give, but for now there was nowhere else for her to go.

She ran a hand through her hair, hissing when she bumped her stitches, and busied herself with cleaning the dishes until Weaver was done getting dressed. He came out of the bedroom in gym shorts and a t-shirt, and carrying a blanket and a pillow. He droppe them on the sofa as he crossed the room.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said, coming around the end of the island. “And the dishes.” He bumped her shoulder with his until she stepped aside and picked up the sponge she’d been using. “Go rest.”

She put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Ian...”

Pausing, he looked up from the dish in his hand with raised eyebrows. “This is not a discussion, Belle. You’ve been through a lot tonight, and you’re going to go through a lot more in the next few days. You need sleep.”

Her shoulders sagged, knowing he was right, but still too stubborn to admit complete defeat. “Fine, but I’m taking the couch.”

He set the plate in the drying rack and threw the sponge into the sink, splattering water and suds. “The hell you are.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed,” she insisted, folding her arms.

He wanted to scream at her that it was her bed too, or at least it had been once upon a time, but that seemed like it would only provoke another fight. It was strange enough to have her here again, he didn’t want to make it worse by dredging up a past she was already well aware of. Sighing, he picked up the sponge and wrung it out as he spoke.

“You don’t feel it now because of the pain meds,” he said, “but tomorrow you’ll think you were hit by a truck. It’ll be ten times worse if you spend the night on a sofa.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed and they stared at each other for a few seconds over the span of the counter, until she sighed and shook her head. “Fine. But if your back is trashed in the morning, I don’t want to hear any whining.”

Weaver gave her a crooked smile. “I’ve slept on that couch plenty of times, I’ll be fine.” Then he dried off his hands and came over to her, holding her gently by the arms. “Please. Get some rest.”

She hated how soft his voice was in these moments, and stepped back, shrugging off his touch. “Yeah, okay.”

Then she crossed the room to the bedroom door, stopping with her hand on the knob. She looked back at him, giving him a wan smile. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, his eyes wide and soft. “You’re always welcome, Belle.”

A short nod was her only reply before she slipped into the bedroom and shut the door.

It took Weaver ages to get settled on the sofa.

His body was exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t shut off. He finished cleaning up the kitchen and then called Rogers to find out the status of the manhunt, which was that there was no status at all. The rain had turned to an outright storm, and that combined with the fact that it was nearly midnight was making a proper search slow going. All the area hospitals were on alert, as were the ones in Seattle, and for the time being the news media were on a forty-eight hour blackout where ADA French was concerned. Seattle PD had sent as many spare men as they could, but the Chief of Hyperion Heights Police, Albert Spencer, was ready to call in the FBI and hand it all off to them. Of course that had set off Captain Humbert, and Spencer had ordered him to go home. To top it all off, Belle and he were both officially removed from the case and two squad cars were now parked outside his building as a precaution.

Everything was turning into a total shit show.

He sighed again and shifted, turning onto his back and readjusting the blanket. Outside, the thunder rumbled along, and the wind slapped the rain harder against the windows. Any other time it would be a calming, welcoming white noise, but all it was doing tonight was making him ansty. He hoped Belle was having better luck getting to sleep.

A few minutes later, just as he’d given up on falling asleep anytime soon, and started playing a new game of Angry Birds on his phone, there was a crashing sound from the bedroom. He sat up quickly, dropping his phone on the floor, and tossed the blanket aside. That was immediately followed by a noise he couldn’t make out, and a scream that terrified him to his core.

The bedroom door flung open, banging against the metal stop as Weaver charged into the room.

Belle thrashed in the sheets, kicking at them haphazardly and pushing them towards the foot of the bed. “Get off me!”

Weaver hesitated for a moment, knowing she was in the throws of what appeared to be a violent nightmare, but unsure of how to approach her. The clock on the nightstand was on the floor, unplugged, which explained the crash he'd heard, and the lamp would be next if he didn't calm her down.

“Belle!” he called out, coming to stand at the end of the bed.

She cried out again and rolled over, slamming her fist down on the pillow. “No no no!”

He hurried to her side, and grabbed at her wrists when she whipped her body around again. “Belle, stop! You need to wake up!” She pushed at him roughly, and he let go, nearly taking a right hook to his jaw as he tried to back away. “Belle!”

As quickly as it had started, it stopped, and she blinked up at him, her eyes wide and wet. She looked like a frightened child, and something constricted in his chest. This was part of what he'd been afraid of, what he'd seen others go through too many times.

Belle stared up at Weaver, trying to make sense of what was happening. There’d been someone else there just a second ago, but now Weaver was here instead? She'd been in her apartment, in the kitchen, except this was not her apartment or her bed. Her eyes drifted down, expecting to see blood, but her skin was clean. A dream? Slowly her mind filled in the blanks as she pushed herself up to sit, and groaned.

“Shit, sorry,” she said, her hands covering her face as she sucked in a breath through her nose. Her heart was thumping as loud in her ears as the thunder outside. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down on the edge of the bed leaving a careful distance between them. “Are you all right?”

She dropped her hands and pressed her lips together. “I'm fine, yeah. Did I hit you?”

One shoulder shrugged. “Nah, too slow.”

Her mouth curved as did his, and she punched lightly at his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” he insisted, shifting closer. “But you didn’t answer my question. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Belle nodded and pushed her hair back. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t even know what -” She stopped and looked around the room, dimly lit by the light coming from the living room. “It’s all fuzzy now.”

“Probably best that way.”

She sniffled again and looked down at her hands laying in her lap. There was still some dried blood stuck under her right thumbnail and she picked at it with the thumb on the other hand. “Yeah.”

He ducked his head, trying to get a look at her face. “Do you want some water?” Her hair sway as she shook her head. “Should I leave the door open, or turn on a light, or -?”

“No,” she said lifting her head. “No, I’m -”

She licked her lips and took a breath as she reached for the hand he had braced on the bed between them. He let her take it, and wrapped his warm palm over her lightly chilled fingers, holding them carefully. She shivered, her eyes falling closed for a moment.

“Would you, um - would you do me a favor?”

Weaver gave her hand a gentle squeeze, much the same as she’d done for him in the hospital. “Anything.”

That single word from him made her wonder whether she had any fucking clue what she was really asking.

“Would you...stay with me?”

[moth-time]

Adding to this, if you make food for someone, think about what works best in their context. Can you freeze it? Re-heat it? Eat it without any tools so you don’t have dishes? Will it last them several days, and is this a good or a bad thing? Also consider what tools they have access too (freezer, microwave, oven, etc)

My go-to food for stressed out, busy people is minestrone(ish), aka a bit pot of chunky root vegetable soup. It’s easy to adapt to food preferences, it freezes, it also keeps if you just leave it on the countertop and re-heat it once a day, and it gets tastier with each re-heat. It’s also easy on the stomach and still filling.

Other suggestions for “you can make a big batch and it keeps”: - lasagna (portion out, wrap in plastic, freeze) - most broths (freeze or re-heat daily) - risotto (freeze) - quiche (keeps in the fridge a few days, tastes fine at room temp)

Suggestions for “you don’t need tools to eat this”: - pizza - sandwiches and wraps - spreads like hummus or eggplant spread (keeps a week in fridge, no re-heating, provide bread too) - quiche - brick cake type things, sweet or savory (think banana cake)

And of course, if you make the food at their place? Clean the kitchen afterwards. Leave it cleaner than you found it and you’ll have done your friend two huge favors in one go.

legit the best advice i can give you: feed your friends

any time someone is in any kind of crisis or upheaval, offer to feed them. tell them they don't have to choose what it is if they can't make decisions, just ask about allergies and preferences and tell them you're just gonna make food happen at their house.

friend having a baby? delivery gift certificate to order food to the hospital after the kid shows up.

someone's relative passes away? offer to make them dinner.

buddy gets laid off? ask if you can order them lunch.

pal stuck in a depressive episode? offer to drive them to fucking mcdonalds, if that's what they want.

people in crisis are tired and sad and angry and the last thing most of them are doing is thinking about feeding themselves. so if you have the ability or time or money, providing that is always, always a good move.

legit i do this all the time, and it is 100% always appreciated. i have taught all my friends that when something happens, we feed each other. it makes people feel extremely cared for, and I cannot recommend it enough.

[kentonramsey]

3 Dessert Recipes to Make in Your New Man Repeller Mug (They’re Finally Here!)

Man Repeller mugs are back and better than ever. One dollar for each product sold will be donated to Black Women’s Blueprint, an organization working to secure social, political, and economic equality for Black women in America. Click HERE to shop.

Since making the transition from hot to cold coffee a little over a month ago, I’ve really been missing my mugs. I’ve tried using a mug as a vessel for cold water—but can’t shake feeling like I’m 22, and at a house party well past the point of clean glassware. Until recently, I thought I’d tried every way to reintroduce mugs back into my life, when I remembered the hottest food trend of 2014: mug cakes.

If you Sleeping Beauty’d your way through 2014 mug cakes, unlike regular cakes, are cooked inside a mug in your microwave. There are literally thousands of recipes for mug desserts (and soups, and lasagnas, and pizzas) on the internet, but I managed to narrow it down to three I was excited to try.

I decided to test each recipe for three things:

Can’t Fuck It Up-Ness. I am bad at baking. Cooking? Excellent! Cocktail making? Sufficient? But baking? Bad. Which is why these recipes need to be easy peasy.

The Yum. Opposite of the dating phenomenon, The Ick, meeting this criteria will mean that I am instantly satisfied by, and attracted to, the deliciousness of this recipe.

Fancy Factor. Each recipe should have a little somethin’ somethin’ that takes it out of the Pinterest Bad Place and into a food realm I’d be willing to frequent and even invite friends to.

Below, you’ll find my reviews of three sweet mug recipes, tried and tested inside the brand spankin’ new range of Man Repeller mugs.

Snickerdoodle Mug Cake from Five Heart Home

Oh the snickerdoodle, my all-time favorite cookie, how I do love thee. This recipe sounded so good in theory, especially for something I could whip up in way less time than it would take to get Insomnia Cookies delivered to my apartment. In reality, the mug snickerdoodle was… fine.

Could I have fucked it up? I wouldn’t say I fucked this cake up, but if I did it again, I would do things a little differently. The recipe calls for “big spoonfuls” of dough to be layered with cinnamon sugar (aka the best bit of the cake.) Once cooked, the dough itself is quite boring, and a little floury. The sugar layers are the tastiest part, and I wish there were more of them! Next time, I’ll opt for thinner layers. Was it yum? While the sugary cinnamon layers were definitely yum, the dough itself left a lot to be desired. Did it feel fancy-ish? Though it didn’t taste particularly fancy, the sparkly sugar-sprinkled top of this cake made it feel a little special. Overall rating: 2/5

Chocolate Mug Cake from NYT Cooking

I was thrilled to discover that the NYT Cooking app had a mug cake begging to be made. (This excitement was enough to look past the fact I don’t really like chocolate cake.)

Could I have fucked it up? I made this cake quite late at night and will admit, my measurements were pretty lazy. Still, it turned out cake-like, edible, and quite cute if I do say so myself. Was it yum? This mug cake is flourless, which meant it didn’t fall victim to the floury taste of the snickerdoodle cake. I enjoyed a few spoonfuls, but need to mention that my boyfriend, a much bigger chocolate fan than I, absolutely loved it. Did it feel fancy-ish? If I were to rebrand this cake as a “flourless single-serve chocolate cake” it would sound a lot fancier than it actually was. It felt fancy enough, but could do with a tiny fancy update like the aforementioned name suggestion. Overall rating: 3.5/5

Chocolate Chip Cookie in a Mug from No. 2 Pencil

Sometimes you just feel like a single cookie. Or at least, I do! A lot of the time! Which is why this recipe sounded so appealing: a single, microwavable cookie? Brilliant. In the end, it was no Levain, but it was good, and I would legitimately make it again (maybe even tonight.)

Could I have fucked it up? If you can separate an egg yolk from the white you can already nail the hardest part of this recipe. The rest is just measuring and gently mixing. Was it yum? It was GOOD, especially at a time when nobody wants to turn their oven on for a single cookie. Did it feel fancy-ish? The fanciest thing about this experience was that I bought “chocolate morsels” instead of “choc chips.” Overall rating: 4/5 even without an obvious fancy factor, which is saying something!

Photos by Beth Sacca

The post 3 Dessert Recipes to Make in Your New Man Repeller Mug (They’re Finally Here!) appeared first on Man Repeller.

3 Dessert Recipes to Make in Your New Man Repeller Mug (They’re Finally Here!) published first on https://normaltimepiecesshop.tumblr.com/ 3 Dessert Recipes to Make in Your New Man Repeller Mug (They’re Finally Here!) published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

[lil-mon-stah-blog]

Rules: Complete the questions & say who tagged you in the beginning. When you’re finished, tag people to do this survey. Have fun and enjoy!

I was tagged by @juney-chan (ILUVHERARTANDWHENSHETAGGEDMEITHOUGHTITWASOMEMISTAKESINCEITCAN’TBE)

1. Are you named after someone? Nope, but I know for the fact I was named after the word ‘dear’ in one of my mother tongues.

2. When was the last time you cried?  I felt my eyes getting moist during the last movie I watched (*cough* and *cough* last week *COUGH* exams ...).

3. Do you like your handwriting? I do after all I crafted it and perfected it myself! People called it calligraphy-ish and that’s why it’s time consuming (and that made me slow writer ;-;).

4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Fish.FISH. FISH .   FISH

5. Do you have kids? Nope, I’m still young and beautiful (no I look like crap and attempting to make a LDR reference). And I can’t stand them so I’ll just have doggos instead. 

6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Depends.

7. Do you use sarcasm? Again depends.

8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yup.

9. Would you bungee jump? Maybe, I dunno.

10. What is your favorite kind of cereal? I’m fine with normal ones or the chocolate flavoured ones. But NEVER the ones that lacks taste and anything with NUTS.

11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I don’t need to tie or untie my shoes. Since I bought one with ZIPPERS. (I’m a lazy person and disabled in regular chores).

12. Do you think you’re a strong person? Ranging between 50% to 75%. But not completely 100%.

13. What is your favorite ice cream? Chocolate Chip Mint.

14. What is the first thing you notice about people? That I’m ASIAN. (since there’s no other Asian person living where I am except me and I’m just half Asian).

15. What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? My armpits (no comment).

16. What color pants and shoes are you wearing now? No pants, no shoes.

17. What are you listening to right now? Gasoline by Halsey 

18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Teal.

19. Favorite smell? A book straight out from a store. (Or my pillow for some odd reason).

20. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? A friend from Malaysia.

21. Favorite sport to watch? Not really but. I like to watch sports anime, though?

22. Hair color? It’s black but it’s illuminated brownish under sunlight.

23. Eye color? Dark brownish

24. Do you wear contacts? I can’t afford those and rather have surgery to correct my eyes. (Might wear them for eye colouring, y’know)

25. Favorite food to eat? Sushi, lasagna, chicken nuggets, pizza pockets, mushroom soup ... (this is gonna take a while)

26. Scary movies or comedy? scary . SCARY . SCARY! .

27. Last movie you watched? Spilt 

28. What color of shirt are you wearing? Aqua blueish

29. Summer or winter? Winter?

30. Hugs or kisses? Neither. I don’t like people touching me.

31. What book are you currently reading? Wuthering Heights (school assignment).

32. Who do you miss right now? Again, a friend from Malaysia and another in America.

33. What is on your mouse pad? Don’t have one.

34. What is the last TV program you watched? We Bare Bears (coincidentally), apparently. Adorable show. 

35. What is the best sound? Rain drops. (There’s not much rain where I live now :’(.)

36. Rolling stones or The Beatles? I don’t listen to either (yet), I was born in the 2000s.

37. What is the furthest you have ever traveled? Turkey

38. Do you have a special talent? I’ve an excellent memory. I could remember random rubbish whenever I want to.

39. Where were you born? Malaysia (I missed there).

I tag:  ANYONE WHO WANTS TO DO IT! GO ON AHEAD! (I wanna tag my mutuals but I feel so much social anxiety at the moment and I will collapse after I hit that ‘post’ button).

[mealsforsquares]

Pork Bolognese Lasagna

So one of the things that did not get written about here was a somewhat-failed lasagna*. It was meant to use a kind of vegan sausage preparation that failed miserably and ended up tasting like sloppy joe meat, and the sauce wasn’t very good either. So I found myself looking to pick up the rebound.

I needed to make a better lasagna. So I set out to do just that.

I started by making the noodles. The advantage to making fresh noodles for lasagna is that you can then roll them out into a sheet and they’re a little thicker than the dried jobbers, which is kind of nice, especially for something like this where I was going to make a really hearty sauce to go over them. These were just regular nothing-special homemade noodles. Four eggs (usually it’s only three, but these were on the small side so I needed four to get to the right weight) and then enough flour to be 150% of the eggs by weight, kneaded and kneaded and kneaded, and then left to rest.

A better lasagna would countinue, I knew, with a bolognese. I had some pork shoulder (the other half, in fact, of the pork shoulder that I cooked the other day), so that was going to be my base. I started the heat under the dutch oven, and ran about half a pound of bacon through the grinder, sliding it into a bit of olive oil. When it was well along, I ran an entire onion, a carrot and a stalk of celery through the food processor, and added that to the bacon. I ran half a head of parsley, some garlic, some rosemary and some tarragon through the food processor and added that as well. That had started to soften, so I ground about a half-pound of liver** and got it in there***. I then added the meat. I had some leftover tomatoes from not using a whole giant Costco-sized can the other day (a hazard of buying tomatoes in giant Costco-sized cans), so I blended them up and then poured them over the meat. I added a bunch of heavy cream, some reconstituted chicken stock, and a bit of worcestershire sauce, then transferred the whole thing to the pressure cooker and let it pressure cook for an hour or so****.

I took this opportunity to put together a salad of some mesclun, some arugula, some basil, a sprinkling of granola for texture and some craisins for sweetness. I assembled a quick no-bullshit ranch dressing***** and called that salad. I ordinarily would have made a lighter dressing, but we are in the DEPTHS of greenhouse/grocery truck produce season, and none of it tastes like very much, so you kind of need to goose into having enough flavor to stand up to, say, a meaty, cheese-covered lasagna.

The salad thus taken care of, I then set about rolling out the pasta into sheets that were about the same size as the pan I was going to cook the lasagna in. I set them aside in between sheets of wax paper. I didn’t want them to dry out, necessarily (although if they had it wouldn’t have been any kind of problem - a huge wet lasagna is a very forgiving cooking medium), but I also wanted them to have plenty of time to do a second relaxation so they weren’t at all weird or stretchy post-cooking. I have no idea if this matters or not, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time.

The sauce came out of the pressure cooker and back into the dutch oven (I KNOW), and I let it cook for awhile until it was more-or-less the consistency I wanted, which is to say somewhat wetter than I’d want for a traditional, over-pasta bolognese******.

I ladled some in the bottom of the pan, then a layer of noodles, then another layer of sauce, then a layer of slices of mozzarella, then another layer of sauce, then another layer of noodles, then more sauce, more cheese, more noodles, I don’t know how to keep count of this but I made four layers of noodles so skip to the last layer of noodles, which was then topped with the remaining quantity of sauce (it wasn’t a whole layer’s worth). I then sprinkled gruyere over the top. Ordinarily this would be parmesan, but I had already fucked up one lasagna, and I wanted this one to be extra crowd-pleasing, and A and R both prefer meltier cheese to harder cheese*******.

The lasagna sat in the oven for awhile, and when it was brown and bubbly and looked like it was prepared for all the eating, I took it out and let it sit. Since I had to do something to keep myself idle rather than tear into the burning-hot, boiling vat of cheese and meat with my barre tender hands, I decided it was time to make garlic bread.

I melted a stick of butter with four cloves of smashed garlic and fortified it with some oil. I added some salt, some chili flakes, some dried “Italian Herbs” (why not?) and some garlic powder, which I find is a pretty good way to draw people’s attention to actual garlic in a recipe like this one. It’s like it says “hey, see how good I am at pretending to be this thing, well have you noticed that your tongue is surrounded by THE ACTUAL REAL THING?” and then you notice and then it’s all garlic everything and instead of just eating fatty bread with allium tendencies you are eating Garlic Fucking Bread and it is great. I dipped the pieces of bread into the butter/oil/garlic concoction and lined them up on a sheet tray. I skipped the parmesan because of all the cheese in the lasagna, but there’s usually cheese at this point also. I ran it under the broiler until it was toasty and brown, the end.

The garlic bread was great, although I used a bread I don’t usually use so it was a little crunchier than normal. It made a nice truncheon for the leftover sauce in the lasagna. The lasagna was great. Using somewhat thicker noodles an da thicker layer of cheese made the thing seem a little bit more substantial and less like a kind of gloppy excuse to eat a bunch of hot cheese (which, to be fair, is mostly what it was regardless). The salad played very nicely, and the ranch actually complemented the lasagna rather nicely, rather than fighting with it in a sort of “salad bar” way. It was a rousing success, and the leftovers were a delight for the next few days.

* I mean, it’s still in the freezer, so it may someday prove itself useful. Who knows.

** more considered recipes use chicken livers because they’re milder and provide the same iron-ish richness, but I actually kind of like the weird organ-y flavor so I just use whatever liver I happen to have available and am generally happy about it. In this case they were calf livers.

*** oh also, grinding livers is a disgusting, hideous process and it’s very important when you do so to not think about what it ends up resembling.

**** I couldn’t get everything together soon enough in the day to do it on the stove or in the oven, which is why this is a weird two-stop process, but this is a fine way to get it out there, especially when it’s there for lasagna, and will therefore be surrounded by cheese and noodles, and the texture is somewhat less important than it would be if I were just, say, dumping this over some tagliatelle.

***** the tendency to just make ranch dressing whenevs has really improved my life, since I don’t have to keep any more around than I absolutely need, and since I can vary the flavor profile from instance to instance.

****** the lasagna noodles were going to take up some liquid, and I was going to cook it uncovered so that it browned up quicker, which would also cost it some free moisture.

******* trust me when I tell you that their attitudes toward dry, hard, old Italian cheese baffle and perplex me, and I do not understand them at all, but I trust that they are not lying, because how would you pretend to be unimpressed by peccorino romano?

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

FALL CSA WEEK 5

Pick List:

sweet potatoes - parsnips - celeriac - shallot - carrots - kale - parsley -

radishes - garlic - fennel - eggs

KITCHEN LIST:

OATMEAL BREAD & SOUP

Still sitting in a dry office on a very wet afternoon.  I have officially become a very broken record with Milli Vanilli’s “blame it on the rain” stepping in as my personal theme song.  Rain or no rain, there is still a lot to do between here and Cornish. Last week amidst an absolute downpour, field crew geared up for the foulest weather, planted garlic, and dug the celeriac and parsnip crop.  On dry days, they’ve been weeding the strawberry crop- an important practice for any perennial crop before they get a blanket of mulch in a couple of weeks. We are coming along on our “things to do before it gets too cold to do them” list… but next Wednesday we lose almost all of our crew.  Jasper, Strong, Garnet, and Roy head home to Jamaica next week. To say we are sad about it is a complete understatement. They are absolute assets to this farm and our families. But let’s not focus too much on that at the moment. Instead, let’s put all of our emotions into strawberry weeding, packing out vegetables, egg cleaning and carrot harvesting-  After 11 years of living up North, I think it’s safe to say, that’s the New England way.

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES

BOTH OF THE FOLLOWING RECIPES PROVIDED BY MY KITCHEN GURU/BESTIE WHO ASSURES ME THE FOLLOWING RECIPES ARE TDF (to die for):

Celery Root and Wild Rice Chowder

From Local Flavors Deborah Madison

1/2 cup wild rice 1 celery root (about 1 pound)

2 large leeks, white parts only 2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 celery rib, diced 1 cup thinly sliced russet potato

1/4 cup chopped parsley 1 bay leaf

1 large thyme sprig sea salt and freshly ground pepper

2 cups veggie stock or chicken stock

2 cups half-and-half or milk truffle oil, optional

1. Cover the wild rice with 5 cups water in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat. Cover and simmer for about 45 minutes, or until tender.

2. Thickly cut away the celery root skins, then quarter and chop the root into bite-sized pieces. You should have about 3 cups. Chop and wash the leeks.

3. Melt the butter in a soup pot. Add the vegetables, parsley, bay leaf, thyme, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Cook over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes, then add the stock. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 20 minutes. Add the half-and-half and simmer until the vegetables are tender. Taste for salt and season with pepper. To give the soup a creamy background, puree a cup of the vegetables and return them to the pot. If the soup is too thick, thin it with some of the rice water or additional stock.

4. Divide the soup among 4 to 6 bowls and then add a mound of the wild rice to each. Garnish each bowl with parsley and add a drop of truffle oil, if using, and serve.

4 fennel bulbs, trimmed (about 1 1/2 pounds) 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 tablespoon olive oil 2 pinches of sea salt

2 to 4 tablespoons heavy cream 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

If your fennel isn’t trimmed, cut off the stalks and fronds right where they grow out of the bulb. (Tip: save some of the lacy fronds for garnish or toss in a salad.) Remove any bruised or extremely tough outer leaves and trim the bottom. Cut the fennel into vertical quarters, making sure there is a bit of the core in each piece to keep them intact.

Melt the butter and olive oil in a large (12-inch) skillet that has a well-fitting lid. Add the fennel, arranging them so that they are all in a single layer and one of their cut sides is down. Cook gently over medium heat until browned, 5 to 8 minutes. Do not stir the fennel: you want to get a nice brown color going on the cut side. Gently turn the fennel using a pair of tongs. and brown the other side.

Sprinkle on some salt, and have a lid handy. Add about 1/4 cup of water and quickly cover the pan. Turn down the heat and braise the fennel until it is very soft and most of the water has evaporated (about 20 minutes.) Check on occasion and add a little more water if the fennel isn’t completely soft.

Remove the lid and pour in the cream. Simmer gently until the cream starts to thicken and glazes the fennel, about 5 minutes. Add the lemon juice, shaking the pan. Taste for salt or more lemon. Serve hot as a side dish or a first course.

serves: makes 25-30 ravioli (like 4 servings-ish) special equipment: a food processor

notes: This recipe uses a whole cup of pine nuts. I know they can be expensive, so feel free to swap in the nuts/seeds of your choosing (walnuts would be delicious). Most grocery stores carry decent quality fresh lasagna sheets in the refrigerated section if you don’t have a pasta roller at home (or don’t feel like making an extra hour of work for yourself).

dough:

2 tbsp ground chia seeds 1/2 cup + 3 tbsp water, divided

1 cup white spelt flour 3/4 cup whole spelt flour

1/2 tsp fine sea salt 1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

 filling:

1 medium sweet potato, roasted or steamed until very soft

1/2 cup pine nuts 1 clove garlic, smashed

juice of 1 lemon salt and pepper

 kale pesto:

1/2 bunch of kale (about 4 stalks), leaves removed 2 cloves garlic, smashed

1/2 cup pine nuts 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil salt and pepper

Make the dough: combine the ground chia seeds with 1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp water. Give it a stir and set aside until it forms a thick gel. Place the flours, sea salt, remaining tbsp of water, olive oil and chia gel into the bowl of an electric mixer. Mix on low speed until lightly combined (about 30 seconds). Switch to the dough hook on your mixer and knead on medium speed for 2 minutes (or knead by hand for about 5-7 minutes). Dough should be smooth and feel a bit sticky, but doesn’t leave residue on your fingers when you pinch it. Cover and set aside.

Make the filling: scoop sweet potato flesh into the bowl of a food processor. Add the pine nuts, garlic, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Pulse 10 times to break up the nuts. Scrape down the sides and turn it onto low for about 30 seconds until smooth and homogenous. Cover and set aside.

Make the pesto: place the kale leaves, pine nuts, garlic and 2 tbsp of the olive oil into the food processor. Pulse 10-15 times to break up the nuts and chop the greens a bit. Scrape down the sides. Put the food processor on high and drizzle the remaining oil into the feed tube until a smooth paste is achieved. Season to taste and set aside.

Sheet the pasta: cut the dough into 4 pieces. Take one of them and flatten it out, brushing some flour on both sides as you press into it. Feed it through the pasta roller at the “1” setting. Fold the sheet of dough in half and feed through again. Repeat this step 2 more times or until the sheet of dough is uniform width. Adjust the roller to setting 2. Feed lightly floured dough into the roller. Feed through at this setting 2-3 times. Flour the dough lightly again. Adjust the rollers to the “3” setting and feed the sheet of dough through twice. It should be fairly translucent, but not so thin that it would break if stretched too much. The sheets should be about 2 feet long. Repeat with remaining dough. Allow dough to dry for 15 minutes or so before filling and cooking.

Make ravioli: cut pasta sheets into 2 inch squares. Place a little bowl of water near your working area. Place a scant tablespoon of sweet potato in the middle of the square. Dampen two sides of the pasta square with your finger and fold the opposite side of the square over, pushing down on the seams to form a seal. Push down on edges with a fork to strengthen the seal. Repeat until dough/filling is used up. Lightly dust the shaped ravioli with flour, place in a dish and cover loosely with a tea towel until ready to cook.

Cook/plate ravioli: boil a large pot of water with a solid glug of olive oil in it. Place about 10 raviolis in the water at a time. When they all start bobbing at the surface (about 2-3 minutes), remove from the water with a slotted spoon. To serve: place a good schmear of kale pesto on your serving plate, place raviolis on top, put a few dabs more of pesto on top and a sprinkle of toasted pine nuts.

[josephinemkepley21-blog]

12 Healthy Freezer Meals (That You'll Actually Love)

It's back to school season, end of summer vacation season, and I'm-about-to-go-on-maternity-leave season!

Can you say FREEZER MEAL time?

As I started to do some research around freezer meals for my upcoming maternity leave, I was shocked at the lack of freezer meal recipe options that were exciting to me. The internet has many freezer meals, but not all of them are OMG-amazing.

Here's what I consider freezer meals that I (or you!) would actually love:

Freezer meals that are healthy – in other words, made with real food.

Freezer meals with actual vegetables in them – maybe even some vegan and vegetarian options.

Freezer meals with no-cook prep.

Freezer meals with no advance thawing required.

Freezer meals made with fun, bold, interesting flavors that we would actually be excited to eat. Like, it has to be at least as good as a takeout pizza, otherwise you know it's game over.

So in my quest to be well prepared for healthy meals this fall, I decided to go through my own recipes on Pinch of Yum and see which ones could stand up to my Freezer Meal Test.

And good news! I found 12 recipes that are big on flavor and nutrition AND excellent as freezer meals! (Actually, I found about a bajillion, but I only had the time and energy to test 12. I'LL BE BACK THOUGH.)

So that list? All my research and notes and testing? That is what you're getting today! All 12 recipes, ready to prep, freeze, and save your (and my) life.

Quick Links Within This Post:

Printable Document with ALL 12 RECIPES

Terms to Know

SOUP RECIPES

MEAT RECIPES

BAKED RECIPES

My Favorite Containers

Freezer Meal Tips, Questions, and Other Notes

How To Use These Freezer Meal Recipes:

1: Print All The Recipes.

Click here to download the Freezer Meals List with all 12 freezer meal recipes.

Poof! Now you can make them ALL this weekend! Or make four this month, four next month, and four the following month. Or make just one at a time! However you wanna do it.

^ This is the exact document that I use religiously when doing freezer meal prep. It has all these recipes ready to go for ya! I find it extremely useful to have everything printed out in a consolidated format for grocery ordering, prepping, etc. I keep this in my kitchen and refer to it often, even if I'm only making a few of these at a time.

I am kind of obsessed with this document and I hope you find it as helpful as I do!

2: Just Shop Around.

Just use this post to browse! You can go to the actual recipe pages and print them individually, or go to the original posts and make the non-freezer versions, or copy and paste the recipe text from this post into your own meal planning document.

A few terms to know before you start:

Mirepoix: a trio of chopped onions, carrots, and celery.

Instant Pot: an electric pressure cooker.

High pressure: the setting for the pressure cooker.

Natural release: letting everything sit in the pressure cooker before opening the valve, rather than opening the valve immediately.

That's it! Here we go.

Detox Lentil Soup Recipe

easy, no cook, vegan, gluten free, dairy free

serves 6

FREEZE TOGETHER:

2 cups chopped butternut squash, fresh or frozen

2 cups mirepoix, fresh or frozen

1-2 cups chopped potatoes, fresh or frozen

1 cup uncooked brown lentils

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon herbes de Provence (or other spices you like)

1/2 teaspoon salt (more to taste)

4-5 cups vegetable or chicken broth

ADD AFTER COOKING:

1/4 cup olive oil

1-2 cups kale, finely chopped

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 15 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From frozen, 6 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Stir in olive oil and kale. (If you made this in the Instant Pot, some of the vegetables should break down just enough to make the soup creamy! If you made this in the slow cooker, blend a little bit of the soup with the olive oil to make a creamy base.) Finish with a splash of lemon juice or red wine vinegar.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Wild Rice Soup Recipe

easy, no cook, vegetarian

serves 6

FREEZE TOGETHER:

3 cups mirepoix, fresh or frozen

8 ounces mushrooms, fresh or frozen

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 cup uncooked wild rice (the REAL stuff, not a blend)

4 cups vegetable or chicken broth

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon poultry seasoning (or spices like sage, thyme, and rosemary)

1 lb. chicken breasts (optional)

ADD AFTER COOKING:

6 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup flour

1 1/2 cups whole milk

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 30 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From frozen, 4 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Melt butter, whisk in flour, whisk in milk until creamy and thick. Add to the soup. Add extra water to thin to desired consistency.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Sweet POtato Peanut stew

easy, no cook, vegan, gluten free, dairy free

serves 6

FREEZE TOGETHER:

3 cups chopped sweet potatoes, fresh or frozen

2 jalapeños, minced

half of an onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon curry powder

1 teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon salt

1 14-ounce can fire roasted tomatoes

1 14-ounce can coconut milk

AFTER COOKING:

1/4 cup peanut butter

1/2 cup chopped peanuts

1-2 cups kale, chopped

1-2 cups water

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 8 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From frozen, 5-6 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Stir in peanut butter, peanuts, and kale. Add water to thin to desired consistency.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Beef Stew Recipe

easy, no cook, gluten free, dairy free

serves 6

FREEZE TOGETHER:

2 lbs. beef chuck, fat trimmed, cut in small-ish pieces

1 medium onion, sliced thinly

6 stalks celery, sliced diagonally

6 carrots, sliced diagonally

2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon sugar

2 cans tomato juice (about 1 cup)

ADD AFTER COOKING:

2 tablespoons cornstarch in 2 tablespoons water

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 30 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From thawed, 5-6 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: After cooking in Instant Pot, turn on saute function. Add cornstarch slurry. Cook for a few minutes until slightly thickened. (If using a slow cooker, add cornstarch when it's done and let thicken for 30 minutes.)

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Beef Ragu Recipe

easy, no cook, gluten free, dairy free, whole30

serves 6-8

FREEZE TOGETHER:

6 cloves garlic, smashed

1 cup mirepoix, fresh or frozen

2 pounds flank steak or beef chuck, cut into 4 pieces

2 teaspoons salt

1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes

1/2 teaspoon thyme

2 bay leaves

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 45 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From thawed, 6 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Shred the meat and serve with pasta, baked potatoes, polenta, rice, cauliflower rice, gnocchi, zucchini noodles, etc.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Chicken Tinga Recipe

easy, no cook, gluten free, dairy free, whole30

serves 8

BLEND:

1 tablespoon olive oil

half of an onion

2 cloves garlic

2 individual chipotles in adobo sauce

1 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon cumin

1 14-ounce can crushed fire-roasted tomatoes

1⁄2 teaspoon salt

FREEZE WITH:

2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken thighs

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 12-15 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From thawed, 4 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Serve as tacos, or on a salad, or in a rice bowl, or in enchiladas…. limitless possibilities!

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Tandoori Coconut Chicken Recipe

easy, no cook, gluten free, dairy free, whole30 (minus the honey)

serves 8

FREEZER TOGETHER:

2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken thighs

2 tablespoons garam masala

2 tablespoons honey

1 tablespoons chili powder

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1 tablespoon ground cumin

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons turmeric

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 14-ounce can coconut milk

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 15 minutes on high pressure + 20 minutes natural release.

SLOW COOKER: From thawed, 4 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Serve in rice bowls, with roasted vegetables, with cauliflower rice, or in fusion-style tacos or burritos.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Korean BBQ Beef Recipe

easy, no cook, dairy free

serves 6

BLEND:

1 15-ounce can pears, drained

a 2-inch knob of ginger

4 cloves garlic

1/4 cup soy sauce

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon sesame oil

FREEZE WITH:

2 lbs beef chuck or top sirloin, cut into 4 pieces

INSTANT POT: From frozen, 45 minutes on high pressure + 10 minutes nature release.

SLOW COOKER: From thawed, 3-5 hours on high.

FINAL STEP: Serve in rice bowls or fusion-style burritos or tacos (MY FAVE) with kimchi, rice, slaw, spicy mayo, etc.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Cauliflower Walnut “Taco Meat” Recipe

vegan, gluten free, dairy free, whole30

serves 6 (but this is my favorite, so I like to double or triple this recipe when I freeze it!)

PULSE IN A FOOD PROCESSOR:

3 cups cauliflower florets

2 cups whole walnuts

2 individual chipotles in adobo sauce

1 tablespoon chili powder

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon salt

optional: lime juice, onion or garlic powder, cayenne to taste

BAKE: 375 degrees for 30 minutes, stirring halfway through. Freeze for later!

FINAL STEP: Serve in tacos (yummy!), enchiladas, rice bowls, burritos, quesadillas, nachos, the usual.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Lasagna Florentine Recipe

vegetarian

serves 6

SAUTE:

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 ounces fresh spinach

MIX WITH:

1 15-ounce container ricotta cheese

1 egg

LAYER WITH:

1 24-ounce jar of really good pasta sauce

10-12 uncooked lasagna noodles

2 1/2 cups shredded Mozzarella cheese

BAKE: From frozen, bake at 425 degrees for 1 hour 15 minutes, covered. Remove cover and bake for 10 minutes until bubbly and browned. Let stand for 15 minutes to firm up.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Baked Chicken Meatballs Recipe

MIX AND ROLL:

1 pound ground chicken or turkey

1 egg

1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs

1/2 cup grated Parmesan

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

black pepper to taste

BAKE: From frozen, bake at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes.

You can also bake them first (400 degrees, 20 minutes) so that you can keep them in the freezer fully cooked and ready to go.

FINAL STEP:  Serve with literally anything – personal fave includes some kind of pasta, red sauce, and a salad.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Quinoa Stuffed Peppers Recipe

easy, no cook, vegetarian, gluten free

MIX FILLING:

1 cup uncooked quinoa, rinsed

1 14-ounce can black beans, drained

1 14-ounce can refried beans

1 1/2 cups red enchilada sauce

1 tablespoon taco seasoning

1 1/2 cups shredded cheese

STUFF INTO:

6-8 large hollowed out fresh bell peppers

BAKE: From frozen, bake at 400 degrees for 1 hour 15 minutes, covered.

FINAL STEP: Finish by melting extra cheese on top. Serve with guac, sour cream, cilantro, hot sauce, etc.

This recipe also has its own page. Click here to view!

Best Containers For Freezer Meals:

Obviously plastic bags are the most common, but let's be real – not everyone wants to use depressing plastic bags all the time (ME!!) so here my favorites along with a few pros and cons of each type of container.

These products are linked using affiliate (referral) links on Amazon.

Pyrex round 7-cup containers 

Pros: Fits perfectly inside the Instant Pot or slow cooker! Pretty to look at. NO PLASTIC WASTE!

Cons: More expensive. Takes up more space.

**These are my personal favorite!** I own 5 of them and use them all the time. I definitely can't fit 12 of them in my freezer (nor did I want to BUY 12 of them!), but that's fine by me since I only prep a few recipes (4-6) at a time.

Considerations: Many recipes will require leaving the liquids out in order to fit. The food expands a little bit as it freezes, so you want to leave a little space at the top. To loosen the frozen food before cooking, I just run the containers under hot water for a minute until loosened, and then dump them into the slow cooker or Instant Pot. Unlike freezer bags, the food will be frozen in a round shape so they fit straight into the Instant Pot like a dream! No plastic waste! No awkward square shaped frozen blocks of food! Wash and use for leftovers! Did I mention these are my favorite?

Click here to see the Pyrex 7-cup containers that I use.

Pyrex rectangular snapware 8-cup container

Pros: Freezer, oven, and dishwasher safe. Pretty to look at. NO PLASTIC WASTE!

Cons: More expensive. Takes up more space.

These are my second favorite. I own two of these which is just the right amount for the occasional pan of lasagna, enchiladas, stuffed peppers, or even snacks like energy bites. The snap closure is awesome for leftovers and look super pretty in the fridge.

I couldn't find the exact Pyrex 8-cup snapware on Amazon (I bought mine at Target) but I this OXO version is almost identical!

Stainless steel containers

Pros: Happy for the environment! Can use for other leftovers.

Cons: Not huge. Can't see into them – this is why I don't use them.

Click here for the stainless steel food storage containers on Amazon.

Silicone bags

Pros: Happy for the environment! Can use for other small-batch leftovers (perfect for energy bites or smoothies, for example). Visually nice to look at.

Cons: Too small for most freezer meal recipes.

Click here for the silicone bags that I have!

Disposable plastic ziptop bags

Pros: Convenient. Cheap. Easy to stack or squeeze or tuck into small freezer spaces.

Cons: Bad for the environment and makes you sad thinking about ocean animals swimming in plastic every time you throw them away.

Disposable aluminum pans

Pros: Convenient. Cheap. Works well if delivering meals to someone.

Cons: Not environmentally friendly. Takes up a little more space in the freezer. Lids are always kinda awkward.

Freezer Meal Tips, Questions, and Other Notes

do you have to thaw your freezer meals first?

Can you even handle this? I don't thaw my freezer recipes before cooking! *evil laugh* I just take them straight out of the freezer and put them in the Instant Pot, slow cooker, or oven.

The one exception is that I do thaw recipes first if I'm cooking meats in the slow cooker. It's a food safety thing – it takes longer amount of time for the meat to heat up in the slow cooker, leaving the frozen meat in “the danger zone” for a potentially unsafe amount of time.

How long does it take to thaw frozen meats before cooking?

If you're making meat in the slow cooker, I recommend thawing them in the fridge for 24 hours first.

If you're using the Instant Pot / pressure cooker, you don't need to thaw the meat first.

Can you put something straight from the freezer into the oven?

From a baking perspective – sure. From a shattering glass perspective – maybe?

When using my Pyrex bakeware, I put them straight from freezer to oven several times (wiping off the extra water or frost on the outside of the container first). It was fine. Nothing shattered.

That being said, I am hesitant to all-out recommend this because I know shattering does happen. I had a pan shatter on me a few years ago, completely unrelated to freezing, and it was kind of traumatic. And mostly I  just don't want any of you coming back and leaving comments with reports of shattering glass dishes!

[ouraidengray4]

How to Meal-Prep for a Party So You're Not Doing Everything Last-Minute

In theory, inviting all your friends and family over for a night of good food and stellar conversation seems like the definition of #adulting. In reality, it’s a daunting task, filled with tiresome days of preparation, possible sobbing, and the urge to call the whole thing off before realizing it’s too late. Dramatic? Maybe, but hosting a party is definitely not as easy as it looks on TV. Luckily, these meal-prep tips will help you breathe easier and make hosting a party actually (gasp) fun.

1. Take a home inventory.

Throwing a party can put a dent in your wallet, and coming up with a menu is the definition of overwhelming. If you’re not sure where to start, Toby Amidor, MS, RD, and best-selling author of Smart Meal Prep for Beginners, suggests taking a household inventory. “Look at ingredients you already have, including condiments, serving dishes, paper goods, wine glasses, and other accessories, like cute signage,” she says. These extras are what make a successful dinner party.

“The last thing you want to do right before guests arrive is to run to the store to buy extra wine glasses or large serving bowl,” Amidor says. Once you take stock of what’s in your home, you can start planning the menu.

2. Write everything down.

Now that you’ve scoured your pantry, cupboard, and everywhere in-between, it’s time to make a detailed list. Write down everything you have, from the ingredients you plan to use to the utensils that go with each dish. If you’re an organization rockstar, you can break down each dish into ingredients, serving vessel, utensils, and condiments. And don’t forget the drinks and dinnerware. Highlight all the things you already have and create a shopping list with the items that aren’t highlighted.

EDITOR'S PICK

3. Don’t try to be Julia Child.

You may want to impress your guests with Boeuf Bourguignon, but let’s be honest—no one knows what Boeuf Bourguignon is. “The worst thing that can happen is if a recipe doesn't come out as you expected,” Amidor says. “This can wreak havoc on your meal prep pace and cause you to scramble for dishes at the last minute,” she adds. Amidor suggests opting for a menu with dishes you’ve made at least 2 to 3 times before.

4. Categorize your ingredients.

You took inventory, wrote a menu, and now it’s time to start cooking, but the order in which you prepare dishes matters. Amidor recommends categorizing dishes into three buckets, according to when they can be prepared. “First, determine what can be frozen in advance, like soups, lasagna, or cookies, and start prepping those items a week or two before the party.”

Next, she suggests prepping the refrigerated items, like appetizers and sauces, a few days in advance. Lastly, prep the salads or desserts that might get mushy (like trifles) the day before the party. “Prepping this way also helps decrease much of the stress of making all that food at once,” Amidor says.

5. Freeze as much as possible.

Want to know the secret to being a meal-prepping god? The freezer! That thing on top of your fridge is not just a black hole for fish sticks and frozen pizzas. The freezer is actually really helpful for making things ahead of time, and most dishes can be frozen. If something is supposed to be crispy, it’s best to make it fresh. If it’s softer, it’s probably fine to freeze.

For example, you can freeze sauces, like gravy or marinara; most appetizers, like dumplings, mini quiches, pizza bites, or puff pastries; and even some main dishes, like meatballs, any type of casserole, or most grain-based dishes. Whatever you choose to freeze, make sure you label it so you don’t forget anything on party day.

6. Call upon your friend T Joe (Trader Joe’s, that is).

You could throw an entire party from the Trader Joe’s frozen section alone (and it would taste really good), but the store has so much more to help with your party needs. The roasted nut medleys make great snacking options, the pre-cut veggies help cut down on prep time, and the boxed and pre-made desserts taste like they come from a bakery. Plus, you can even find fancier items, like shishito peppers, Norwegian crispbreads, and a whole array of gourmet cheeses. In other words, spend some time with T Joe and let him do the work for you.

EDITOR'S PICK

7. Swallow your pride and ask for help.

No one likes to admit that they need help, but it’s a liberating feeling once you do. Many of us have friends who are better cooks or mixologists, and it’s important to call said friends in a time of need. Bribe them with free booze or a dinner on you (to be claimed later), and your party prep may just go from tiresome to something you look forward to.

8. Clean as you go.

“When prepping multiple dishes, cleaning as you go—especially while dishes are cooking—will minimize the amount you need to do right before the guests arrive,” Amidor says. Not to mention that having a clean-ish kitchen will keep your stress level down. Nothing is more intimidating than a sink full of dishes.

from Greatist RSS https://ift.tt/2PKKUNO How to Meal-Prep for a Party So You're Not Doing Everything Last-Minute Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ https://ift.tt/2PMuSTN

[3one3]

The Sequel - 787

Two Ways

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea players, and random awesome OC’s

(okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Does my face look gross? It feels gross. I usually do my lavender mask on Monday night, but I didn’t get around to doing it until Friday last week, so I didn’t want to do it again right away this Monday, and now it’s Friday and I didn’t do it again because I have to leave it for 20 minutes and then wipe it off and moisturize and stuff and who has time for that when you’re trying to serve two kinds of lasagna and feed it to a baby? But now my face feels icky.”

“It’s a little red in places but it always is after you wash your face. Can’t you do the mask after you’re finished eating?”

“No. It’s best to do it when the pores are all steamed open from the hot water. And I already put lotion on. Can you grab me another paper towel?”

Juan handed over a sheet of paper towel and Christina tried to get the pinkish blob of tomato sauce and ricotta on Lukas’ chin before it could end up flung on the floor or something else, and he loudly demanded that she stop it. She was getting in the way of his uncoordinated fork usage. She gently reminded him that he didn’t get to say “no” to her on things like that. He had plenty of opportunities to make choices for himself, and she respected his decisions, even when it meant he was going to be dressed like a clown or would ruin his finger paint project by mixing too many colors and turning it brown. Manners and cooperation really mattered to her, and so did letting Lukas learn the concept of consequences. Letting him look silly or disappoint himself was relatively easy. Imposing order without losing her patience took more resolve. André stayed out of that. He was always afraid he’d get in trouble for stepping in, even to side with her, or to encourage their son to behave and listen to her. Juan wasn’t. He picked up the bowl of lasagna and set it on the counter, out of reach.

“You have to get your face clean or you don’t get to eat,” he explained to him. “No clean, no food.” Lukas made a sour face and waved his fork around angrily, but he stilled his hands when Christina told him to stop and went in with the paper towel again. His chin got wiped off. His dinner was returned to him. He was thanked for being good. His mom felt the small satisfaction of a small victory, and tried very hard not to think about how co-parenting with Juan would probably be so different from doing it with André. “Do you want more water?” the former asked, Pellegrino in hand.

“Yes, please. Which lasagna do you like better? Judging solely by the amount of red on the baby versus the amount of green, I’m guessing he likes the regular kind,” she observed while he topped up her glass. Which is fine because that means more pesto and Alfredo for moi.

“I like the white sauce. How does it stay so creamy even in the middle layer? Why doesn’t it just leak out into the green?” Juan used his fork to point out the distinct layers in his food.

“I sandwich it between two noodle layers instead of putting it on top of or below the veggie ribbons. The veggies get a little watery even though I salted them first, so anything touching them is going to get watery. Zucchini and spinach are basically full of water. Also I cheat and put a little flour in it,” the rider smiled. “That helps to thicken.”

“Who taught you all your cooking tricks?”

“I learned some things from my mom and a few things from my dad, but mostly I read. You know that,” she shrugged. “I like to learn. If I want to make something, I take the time to research it. I don’t just Google the name and follow the first recipe. I want to know everything about anything I’m interested in.”

“That’s one of my favorite things about you. You go and find out the reason, not just the answer. I think it gets in your way sometimes though. How do you feel riding the last few days?”

“No special way. I don’t want to talk about riding. I just want to do riding. I want it to just be normal work, like it always used to be. Then maybe horse shows will be like they always used to be too.”

“I’ll leave it be, then,” the player nodded before wolfing down a big stack of squared noodles, sauces, and cheeses.

“Thank you for asking though,” Christina replied. He waited a few seconds while chewing, and then leaned over to the left to bump her shoulder with his, causing her to drop lasagna off her fork into her lap. “Heeeey.” His eyes got big and “eepsy”, like he was pretending it wasn’t his fault. Missed my shorts. Score. She used her fingers to pick up the blob of melted cheese and sauce that landed on her thigh, and ate it. “That was mean. You can make up for it by scoring a million goals at White Hart Lane on Sunday though.”

“Yeah. When are you going to make fried chicken again?”

“I don’t know. If I make it then I want to make a lot because it’s a big job and you don’t want to go through all the steps just to make a couple of pieces, and then I want to eat it for every meal until it’s all gone. And then I get fat, and don’t feel well.” Kind of like when I make lasagna, she realized. At least one of these is sort of healthy-ish.

“You’d still look beautiful with an extra kilo around the middle.”

“Uhhuh.”

“When is this modeling career of yours going to result in some bikini pictures or a lingerie ad for me to enjoy?”

“I don’t have a modeling career, and I don’t know. When adidas starts making bikinis and lingerie?” Omnomnomnom. They’d get someone else even if they did. I’m going to end up eating my feelings in Dortmund. I won’t have any friends to do stuff with so I’ll cook at home all the time and all the most fun food to make is terrible for you. Healthy and nutritious food is easy and boring. Julia Child never made a healthy thing in her life.

“You do too have a modeling career.” Juan glared pointedly over the side of his shoulder and then went back to trying to cut the Alfredo layer out of one lasagna to mix it with the meat sauce layer of the other. Lukas did that too, but with his hands. He was also talking to himself, or to his lasagna, or perhaps to an imaginary friend. The more he liked his food, the less he endeavored to interact with the adults while he ate it once he let the adults know that he was enamored with the taste in the beginning. That was always an exciting time.

“No I don’t. That’s like saying you have a modeling career. Are you a model? Or are you a football player who does ads for sponsors?”

“Maybe both?”

“But you and I are not employed for our modeling skills or our look. We’re hired to do ads for companies because we’re athletes. Our reputation in our sports is the desirable thing. It’s different,” the chatty boy’s mom argued. “You hire Adriana Lima because she’s a professional model and has skills relevant to modeling. Nobody is hiring Diego Costa for ads based on the same criteria,” she joked.

“Are you saying Diego doesn’t have a good look?”

“Yes.”

“And what are the skills relevant to modeling? Being good to look at? Knowing how to pose? Take direction? You and I tick those boxes,” the footballer countered.

“So you think you’re good to look at, eh?” Christina asked back with a lopsided smirk. She put down her fork to squeeze the lemon floating in her water class again and “lemonize” the added Pellegrino, or at least that’s how she thought of it.

“I’m told I’m not bad on the eyes, yes.” Juan remained calm rather than defensive, or self-conscious, or apologetic. She watched his profile and took in all that was good on her eyes. That included pretty much everything from the way his little sideburns stopped level with the bottom of his ear, to the slope of his nose.

“Who tells you that?” she prodded nonetheless. “Your mom?”

“Yesterday morning you said my face was so perfect that it was hurting your organs.”

“I was lying.”

“I want fried chicken.”

“Embarrass Spurs and I’ll think about it. Also, introduce me to Marcos Alonso. He is like you and Schü combined in one person.”

Lukas politely interrupted the grownups to ask for more to drink, so his mom got up to get more milk for his sippy cup. The footballer nonchalantly stole and ate her entire large piece of the pesto lasagna in one big bite, undetected. And then he laughed uncontrollably when she sat back down and tried to figure out if she was losing her mind. She was sure there was still some left on her plate. She was about to eat it when Lukas got her attention. But being tired meant she could have been totally mistaken. That happened sometimes- like when she was sure she told André about the Stephex horse and totally didn’t. There was a lot of eye narrowing at the plate, and then pensive staring. She didn’t even get it when Juan started snickering. When he admitted to his crime Christina told him he had to get up and cut some more lasagna from the pan for her, and he just shook his head and laughed more. At first she was just mildly annoyed and feeling slightly picked on, but after she replaced the food herself she wondered if Juan was going out of his way to be “pesty” and teasing to reinforce the friend part of friends with benefits. It occurred to her that she probably would have been worried if he followed two nights and the whole day in between together and then a dinner the next one with the kind of sweet flirting on show when they were together in Mallorca, or if he tried to be romantic, or extra-gentlemanly. Any kind of boyfriend behavior would have stressed her out. Making her drop food on herself and eating her food when she wasn’t looking was a different thing. That wasn’t endearing. His help with Lukas could have been considered the troublesome kind of behavior- assuming an authoritative role with her son- but she figured he didn’t even consider that, because it just came naturally to him. She didn’t think he’d put that in the subjective category.

“Do you want a cortado? I’m going to make one. I’m so cold,” she grumbled after spending the meal cleanup thinking about that potential demonstration of friend behavior.

“I don’t understand why you walk around the house in small shorts and a t-shirt or with your bare arms out and no heating on and complain that you’re cold. Why don’t you wear pants and a sweater? Or just turn the heat up!” Juan was walking around her house in jeans, a button-up, and socks.

“I don’t like wearing more clothes and I don’t like artificial heat. It makes my nose and throat dry! I want to go to bikini weather. I wish I could spend a few days on the boat.” Christina turned her lip over momentarily and then turned around to her espresso machine. “Do you want any or no?”

“Coffee or days on the boat?”

“Coffee. My espresso is pretty low caffeine, if that makes a difference in your decision.”

“I’ll have some but I don’t want the warmed milk.”

“Hot water?”

“Sí.”

“A little espresso or a lot of espresso?”

“Single. And why can’t you go stay on the boat?”

“It’s booked all the time, and when would I go? I have an everyday job, and a kid, and Schü can’t go anywhere like that.”

“Why not take Lukas and the horses to Florida to compete? Then you can wear a bikini on the beach in Miami, and what could help more to make horse shows feel like they used to than going to the competition you went to for 10 years?”

“It’s not that easy to just pack up a barn full of horses and fly them to Florida. It’s only worth it to go for several weeks at a time,” the experienced Winter Equestrian Festival competitor explained while she pulled espresso for Juan’s cup. “And it takes planning. And not every week is created equal down there. There is even a week of just hunter classes. I couldn’t go until maybe the end of next month, and if the house isn’t done by then I think Schü is going to fire everyone and hire new people to come get it finished. He would be so disappointed if I was like “Hey, babe, I think I’m going to take Lukas to Florida for three weeks instead of moving in. Is that cool with you?” How would you feel in his position?” Christina shot back over her shoulder after switching out his cup for hers.

“I wouldn’t be in it. I wouldn’t be in a position like that with the house and keeping you waiting, and I would just go to the beach with you if you wanted to go to the beach. It’s not impossible to find a way for some days off,” he argued from his stool at the counter. He was toeing a rubber ball back and forth with Lukas, who was happy to be returned to the floor to play once his dinner was scrubbed off his face, and Lucky. “If you really want bikini weather, why don’t you go away with me after next weekend instead of going to Germany? I don’t have to go to Mallorca. We can go somewhere warmer. Dubai, if you like.” The rider walked over to place his watered down espresso on the counter and slide the sugar bowl down his way, and told him that she couldn’t do that, with large, insisting eyes. And then she proceeded to the refrigerator for milk.

“Why?”  

“That would also disappoint him. I can’t cancel a trip to see him to go away with you instead. That’s just mean. I can’t decide against visiting him when he gets back from camp in favor of a Dubai getaway with you. He’d think we’re going there to lay on the beach all day and have sex all night, or that we’re doing coupley things- holding hands in the water, romantic dinners. He said that’s what matters to him. It can’t be like that. And I don’t want it either. Here, do you want this?” Christina offered the plastic container and then had to wait for him to pour a couple of drops in his coffee so she could take it back and steam some for hers.  

“Why isn’t he taking you to the beach then?”

“He offered, sort of,” she shrugged with her back to the footballer. “He asked me last week if I wanted to blow off New Year’s Eve and go away for a couple of nights. I didn’t want to. I had riding to do. I have riding to do next week too. I can’t go away for three days and then go straight to Leipzig to show. See? I have a litany of reasons why I can’t go to bikini weather in the nearest of futures.”

Juan declined to respond to the definitive and flat sounding case presented against a mini beach holiday while his ex-girlfriend very loudly steamed her milk. Lukas liked the noise and abandoned his ball to run around the counter and check it out. He always did. The sound of the frother wand at work was as powerful a draw on him as the sound of food hitting the floor was for the dogs. He was then disappointed when the noise was already over by the time he got to his mom’s feet. She was just warming the milk rather than trying to make it foamy. Not until she completed dressing up her espresso and plopped back onto her stool did Juan reply to her explanation, and he did so with an apology.

“I’m sorry if it feels to you like you’re talking to a wall that doesn’t understand. I do get it. I’m not like he was doing with constantly asking you to put things aside to spend time with him and telling you it was supposed to be for your own good,” he told her while she took grateful sips from her cup. It was hot in her hands and smelled delicious, tasted bold and full but cut just right with the sweetness of the milk. “It’s difficult for me when I know you’re wanting something you can’t figure out how to have. I get like irrationally annoyed,” Juan chucked self-deprecatingly. “Your life is like being in an obstacle course with parts that are impassable- like you have to keep turning around and trying different tests to get through and progress to the next thing. The most pressing thing I want in my life right now that I don’t have or don’t have a plan to get is fried chicken. I don’t know anymore what it’s like to want to do things and not be able to make it work, other than goals and wins.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I know you’re just trying to help. It was different when Schü was “skip this”, “skip that”, “why can’t you come here” every day, all day. Believe me- I would tell you if you were doing something that bothers me, just like I’m going to tell you to get the F out of here when you’re done with your coffee,” Christina smiled.

“Why is that, by the way?”

“That you can’t stay tonight?”

“No, that you have no problem telling me when I do something that upsets you. You bend over backwards not to confront André in simple terms when he’s doing something that makes you crazy, or hurts you. First you can’t even decide if you want to say anything at all, and if you do, then you have to strategize for the best way, so that you don’t upset him back.”    

“It’s not different with you. Usually it’s just easier to decide and choose a strategy because...I don’t know. Like earlier when you got here I was thinking about whether to ask you if you’re taking this whole we-can-sleep-together thing too far and getting clingy or something. That was a whole process. Right now as soon as I stop talking I’m going to internally debate whether or not I want to call you out on why I think you’re even asking me about this. Because it’s another one of those things you want me to get to thinking about because you think the logical conclusion I’ll reach about it is that my relationship with you is easier and we communicate better. It’s doing that selfish thing you periodically promise to stop doing because you know it makes chaos in my brain and then I let chaos in my brain become chaos in my life. I’ll probably decide not to make an issue out of this because just acknowledging it and making it more of a conversation than it is in this very moment will invite the chaos and I have no room for chaos.” While Christina gazed into her milky espresso, the Spaniard reached out to gently poke at the thumb and index finger-shaped mark on her neck.

“Did I hurt you last night?” he asked distantly, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said, or the warning way in which she said them.

“No. I mean...probably, but it feels good with the...other stuff. I didn’t notice if it was really painful.” She was just happy he seemed willing to discontinue the conversation about the disparity in ease of communication between them and between her and André. To her it really wasn’t any different.

“Would you tell me if I did, or would you have this internal debate and decide not to say anything?”

“I would tell you to stop if I didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t ask if you liked it. I asked if you’d tell me if I hurt you.”

“I don’t know. I think so. Why?” Why is he all quiet and soft and doing the intensely connected to me thing with his eyes?

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to think I like to hurt you.”

“You wrap your hand around my windpipe because you think it feels...what, soothing?” the expat laughed.

“I like to feel like I have control over you. Then you react to it and you like it so I want to give you more of what you like, and then I like that you want me to control you, and give yourself over to me. I’ve told you this, cariña. You hate it when people try to control you, overtly or behind your back, but you beg me to do it. You get all wiggly like you’re losing it. You squeeze all the muscles in your core. But it’s not like you’re fighting or trying to get away. You react like you want more. If I go slow- come almost all the way out of you and then all the way in just easy, calm, over and over, slow- you react like you’re in a place like heaven in your head, and I want to give you that feeling. I love to give you that. It gives me the same feeling as making fans happy with a goal, but the whole stadium is fitted into just you. If I go faster, and reckless, you react like you’re literally going to explode, and I love that too because it’s like pure sexual want. The tighter I hold onto you, the more your body begs me to give it what it wants, and the more I feel the angel inside the body beg me to look after her and keep her in that heaven she found with me.”

“Are you telling me this because you think it’s going to make me want you to stay?” Christina asked, conjuring the same smile with which she laughed when she asked him the previous sarcastic question. His calm and honest description of why he liked to hold her throat gave her a funny feeling in her tummy, and she didn’t want it, or to show that she was having it. Humor was always a good cover for whatever she wanted to keep to herself, and always a good outlet for the nervousness that afflicted her whenever she felt a need to hide something.

“No. I don’t really know why,” Juan shrugged. “I’ve been looking at that bruise on your neck all evening. I go back and forth- does it remind me of those feelings, and all those reactions that I love, does it turn me on, or does it undo the feelings I had when I made it because it’s evidence that I have to hurt you- damage you- leave a mark on you- to get what I want.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” the girl whose damp hair was making her freezing assured, dropping her act meant to make him think she didn’t take him seriously, or at the very least was unaffected by what he said. She let go of the hot coffee cup with one hand to hold onto the inside of his left bicep. His elbow was on the counter and he kept scratching at the furry part of his cheek, so she couldn’t go for the handhold instead. “It’s like a hickey. Nobody feels bad about leaving a hickey. And I certainly don’t feel taken advantage of or something,” she added even more emphatically. “Like you said, I enjoy it.” But I’m not telling you why, because we don’t both need to be fully engrossed in the memory of what it’s like, Christina continued to herself. She didn’t want to start telling him how she felt special when he did that to her, lest she find herself so taken with the recollection that she consider changing her mind about how she was going to spend the rest of her night. His description of her reactions already threatened to sway her. Everything he said was right. Heaven and explosions were real things.

“Did you have to wear a scarf for your thing with the blog?”

“I just zipped my jacket up.”

“Ah.”

“Mm.”