#learn more recipes I can cook

[jack-of-aces]

Happy new year this year my resolution is to get worse!

2023 is my villain arc.

[flustersluts]

recently i have realised that. cooking is so good 10/10 actually 1 of my main sources of (non-social) joy. if u do not cook try and cook just a little somethin somethin. it can be so so easy i promise it can be a little rice with sum broccoli. it can be whatever u want. it is so fun

[yunyin]

Leek and Potato Soup

So bit random but I really like this soup (just made/ate it again) and I thought I would share just in case anyone else wants to give it a try!

The most tedious part is washing the leeks but it's worth it imo.

Written recipe: https://www.food.com/recipe/potage-parmentier-potato-leek-soup-julia-child-270731

This guy makes some pretty fun cooking videos, too!

[mabaris]

listen to me.

bethany in the circle trying to do traditions/recipes that, growing up, her mother had told her were from kirkwall, as a way to try to settle in and not feel like such a stranger. but everyone in the gallows is so alienated from actual kirkwall culture (because yk they’re all transplants and/or were taken in at a very young age) that they don’t have those things either

[danothan]

BARRY ALLEN HEADCANON: FOOD EDITION

some autistic ppl have the same few comfort foods they eat over and over, while some adhd ppl can’t consecutively eat the same thing more than once bc they get bored of it so quickly. so in the context of barry allen (who definitely has both), i hc that he likes to get experimental with his safe foods! he’s the type of person to crave stability, but i think his scientist habits and natural curiosity would have him wanting to spice things up in little ways to keep things fresh. so, as a small example, he might eat pizza every night for a week, but the toppings are gonna be different every time.

generally speaking, i think barry knows his way around a kitchen. i’d imagine that darryl wasn’t much of a cook as a single man of the house, so barry had to learn to cook for the both of them growing up (partly out of gratitude, mostly out of missing that sense of familiarity and homeliness).

now with these headcanons established, i’d like to introduce DC superhero girls into the picture. we all know that scene where barry’s trying to cheer up babs by making her his latest ice cream concoction, right? (“latest” also implying that this is smth he does frequently!) he gives her what he calls a “jalapeno toffee twirl sundae,” which is. obviously an abomination of a combo, but he’s ofc none the wiser. like babs straight up spits it out and he’s wondering if the problem is that he didn’t put enough salt 🤦🏻 (thank you dcshg for everything you’ve done for the barry allen community 🙏)

merging these ideas together, i believe that barry is a decent cook with a knack for experimentation + a picky eater with terrible taste. AND, may i remind you, is from the MIDWEST; he’s already starting off with what can only be called failed food experiments as his standard. what all of this adds to is that barry’s cooking is… a hit or miss. he’s had years of experience but a palate that challenges that skill. so be careful if you dine at the allen household; he’ll feed you with love, certainly, but it may come in the form of watergate “salad.” or… his version of it at least.

[spring-lxcked]

i know this is going to end up being Headcanon Tags again but i'm thinking about william and his Famous Casserole™ again

[yellowhoothoot]

my dear beloved roommate is an incredibly kind and smart person. she is also so so so clueless in the kitchen. to the point where i don't know how she does it. she was like does tofu change color when it's cooked? i was like well you're pan frying it so yeah it'll look crispy. she was like oh ok! and i went in after she took it off the stove and it was not in the least browned. it did not look crispy.

[arctic-hands]

I love looking up the histories and backgrounds of poverty food, mostly past but sometimes present. Seaweed/channel wrack during the Irish Famine, acorn flour in North America both in Native communities and by European occupiers. Wartime "roof rabbits" (depressing, don't look up if you're sensitive about pet death). Depression-era and WWII rationing as a whole topic in and of itself. Various nuts around the world that are otherwise shunned in times of plenty because of the association with Bad Times. And of course the history of lobster going from being considered water insects in attitude to an expensive gourmet cuisine.

The one time I ever got pissed off by this was watching a Townsends video where he made colonial-era rice bread, because rice was cheaper than wheat at times. Anyone who's forced to be gluten free will tear our hair out at that statement, because most of us have to forgo bread entirely because rice bread and other gluten free bread at this point is 4 times more expensive than white wheat bread and you only get like a third of the portion in both size of the loaf and the amount of slices within (this has only gone up even more with the corporate price gouging of regular food).

[slumbering-shadows]

I keep discovering all these awesome recipes that sound so cool and delicious but I am limited by a lack of cooking knowledge, a slim grocery budget and a stove that makes me ill and I think that's incredibly homophobic of the universe. Let me make chicken feta spinach burgers and potato salad. I am tired of microwaved food.

[kerra-and-company]

You reblogged "tell me about your toons" post so here I am, about to spill the beans :3c

Airell doesn't refer to himself as a sylvari nor mordrem. He always corrects people who call him that. "Not a sylvari", "not a mordrem", etc. In my writing I avoid using these terms either until Airell's identity as a dragon scion/dragon is fully established to the characters around him and the reader.

I sure did!! :D And hell yes, please always feel free to spill beans if you want to!

Ooh, interesting interesting!! That's very fair, and I love how you handle it in writing too. I imagine he has to make that correction pretty often as well, which has gotta be a little unpleasant for him. Hope he hasn't run into too many people who are insistent even after he corrects them.

[zeawesomebirdie]

Realizing just how autistic i am via reading a cookbook thats written more like a novel than a cookbook

[micha-lapin]

I NEED Y'ALL'S TO SEE THIS. HELL YEAH!

[highladyluck]

The Dungeon Meshi renaissance is making me want to share the resources that taught me how to cook.

Don’t forget, you can check out cookbooks from the library!

Smitten Kitchen: The rare recipe blog where the blog part is genuinely good & engaging, but more important: this is a home cook who writes for home cooks. If Deb recommends you do something with an extra step, it’s because it’s worth it. Her recipes are reliable & have descriptive instructions that walk you through processes. Her three cookbooks are mostly recipes not already on the site, & there are treasures in each of them.

Six Seasons: A New Way With Vegetables by Joshua McFadden: This is a great guide to seasonal produce & vegetable-forward cooking, and in addition to introducing me to new-to-me vegetables (and how to select them) it quietly taught me a number of things like ‘how to make a tasty and interesting puréed soup of any root veggie’ and ‘how to make grain salads’ and ‘how to make condiments’.

Grains for Every Season: Rethinking Our Way With Grains by Joshua McFadden: in addition to infodumping in grains, this codifies some of the formulas I picked up unconsciously just by cooking a lot from the previous book. I get a lot of mileage out of the grain bowl mix-and-match formulas (he’s not lying, you can do a citrus vinaigrette and a ranch dressing dupe made with yogurt, onion powder, and garlic powder IN THE SAME DISH and it’s great.)

SALT, FAT, ACID, HEAT by Samin Nosrat: An education in cooking theory & specific techniques. I came to it late but I think it would be a good intro book for people who like to front-load on theory. It taught me how to roast a whole chicken and now I can just, like, do that.

I Dream Of Dinner (so you don’t have to) by Ali Slagle: Ok, look, an important part of learning to cook & cooking regularly is getting kinda burned out and just wanting someone else to tell you what to make. These dinners work well as written and are also great tweakable bases you can use as a starting place.

If you have books or other resources that taught you to cook or that you find indispensable, add ‘em on a reblog.

[cobbleztone]

I have seen too many posts of Bruce being a tired old man who understands nothing his kids talk about, but im tired of that crap, Bruce is definitely autistic and he learns everything there is to know about what his kids enjoy so he can bond with them

Dick is into dinosaurs? Bruce now knows more than any paleontologist on earth.

Jay is really into a specific book series? Bruce has now read all the books, watched all film adaptations, and he has spent countless nights theorizing about it.

Tim is into skateboarding? Bruce is now a professional skateboarder and knows how to make a board at home.

Damien is into animals? Well, Bruce just got himself a PhD in zoology

Duke is into chess? Well Bruce is now an expert in chess

Cass is into dancing? Bruce has learned every form of dance in existence

And if you thought he only does this for his legal children, then you thought wrong

Bruce learns that Barbara is into fantasy rpgs? Well, Bruce just learned all about fantasy games

Stephanie is into cooking? Bruce now knows every recipe in existence

They all find it odd but weirdly endearing that he knows so much about what they all enjoy

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[thinkinonsense]

POSITIONS𑁍

old man!logan howlett x housewife!reader

cw: oral (f receiving), fingering, bit of fluff, soft logan *mdni

wc: 900+

a/n: next mini-series will be inspired by the album positions by ariana grande. if you would like to be added to the tag list comment below. not sure how many parts yet but I hope you enjoy!

part two

home has always been a sore spot for logan. the mutant never had much of a place he could truly call home. always on the run, never somewhere long enough to enjoy it. now in his old age, he's been granted the life he always longed for.

"lo, come try this!" his little wife, calls to him in the kitchen.

the sight of you and your cute apron mixing ingredients could bring logan to his knees; and has on many occasions. how did a dangerous fucked up man like him end up with the sweetest girl in town? every day, you're in the kitchen learning new recipes while looking all dolled up for him.

the part that always gets logan hard is knowing you want to do this for him. you were smarter than anyone he'd ever met yet, you loved the simple domesticity of your life with logan. you knew when the two of you met that he craved an older lifestyle that you didn't mind adjusting to. logan thought that you were truly heaven-sent.

"think i finally got the recipe right." you held out a spoon for him. logan groaned at the taste, his hands resting on your hips, pressing you into the countertop slightly. "whatcha think?"

"think it might be the best frosting you've ever made," he mutters against your skin, leaving kisses along your neck and jaw.

"that good?" you smile, licking the rest of the spoon clean.

logan watched with dark pupils, grinding himself against your ass with every little moan that slipped past your lips.

"might just be the second best thing you've let me taste," he admits, forehead falling into your neck to catch his breath.

"second?" you tease, turning around to face him. "what's the first, baby?"

you claimed you weren't a mutant but logan thought that was the only explanation for how quickly you managed to bring him to his knees. his big rough palms caress your thighs, squeezing whatever he can—whatever he wants— until he slips them under your pretty light green dress.

logan stares at eye level with your white lacy panties and the large wet stain forming in them. he's got you sprawled out on the countertop with both legs dangling off his broad shoulders, heels digging slightly into his shoulder blades. your dress and apron were bunched up at your stomach.

"isn't she pretty..." logan says to himself, hooking them to the side to get a better look at your exposed pussy. he blows cold air directly on you. a loud whine falls from your lips as you claw at the edges of the counter and attempt to wiggle your hips in the air.

"lo, please..." you beg, looking down at him as he slides the thin material down your legs and spreads you as far as he can.

"you've been such a good girl, sweetheart." logan praises, letting his thumb circle your button slowly in a way that leaves you needing more. "so obedient and versatile, aren't ya'? one minute you're cooking me dinner and the next you're begging to ride me."

you nod, lazily; trying to enjoy every movement he makes.

"think you deserve a reward." he hums before lapping up your wetness, swirling his tongue in downright sinful ways.

not only did you taste as sweet but the little noises that escaped you were even sweeter. a hand of yours laced itself in logan's grey hair, tugging him impossibly closer until his nose bumped your clit, making you sing like a bird. didn't help that logan let his most primal side show, moaning into you and making a complete mess of you.

"so needy, isn't that right, honey? just leakin' for attention." he says, talking to your pussy rather than to you directly while teasing a finger at your entrance. "makin' a mess all over me."

logan pulls back to spit on your pussy; sending your head flying back against the countertop.

"fuck..." you moan, left hand groping your own tit. "feels sooo good, lo.."

logan catches the light off of your wedding band while you squeeze yourself. this kickstarted something deep inside of him. even in the filthiest of moments between the two of you, you managed to fill his heart with love. his mouth returns, drinking you up like water. you flooded all of logan's senses; he could hear your heart thumping in your chest, smell how badly you needed him, and taste how he made you feel.

"taste like fuckin' candy," he growls, adding another finger to hit that spongy spot deep inside of you over and over again.

"please..." you purr, looking down into his almost black eyes. "so close.."

logan could feel you clenching around his fingers; practically suffocating them. his moans vibrating your core didn't help slow down your climax either. all of it crashing into you at once.

"there's my pretty girl," he smirks, still fingering you through your orgasm. at this point, you didn't care what part of you he was talking to anymore; all you wanted to do was kiss him.

"need you, logan." you whine, tugging at the collar of his shirt until he's face to face with you.

logan assumes that you want him to fuck you; undoing his belt as quickly as possible until you stop him.

"gimme kiss."

there you were with your dirty apron, wild hair, and pouty lips begging for a kiss. who was logan to deny you such a request? his soaked beard scratched against you with passion as his tongue entered your mouth. his big hands cradle your face delicately.

logan wasn't a good man by the textbook definition but he'll be damned if he didn't treat you as good as you deserved.