#or eat the leftovers at restaurants

[catwouthats]

This is why I hc them all as criminals that steal food as they travel.

They just leave notes like “sorry! I couldn’t afford to pay :) have to save the world now! -Love, Flash” but the store owner would be like Norwegian or some shit and not even understand the note so they would get mad anyways

That or they do them a favor like pick some flowers and make a bouquet as a thank you

Or they just straight up steal from large businesses.

I did it again :)

[makingshortstorieslong]

So, my new 'apartment' has no kitchen.

This is obviously not something I would have chosen, but it's what was available within a reasonable distance from work.

I've bought a steamer/rice cooker and an induction ...whatchamacallit... a plug-in stove burner basically. I need to get a table for counter space and then I'm good to go, washing dishes and stuff in the bathroom is okay.

Anyway. The point of this post is: I'm a boring cook anyway so this isn't a big deal to me. HOWEVER I do want to be *a little* less boring. One thing I realized at my last place is that ever since I moved out of my parents' house I've had a very limited spice cupboard. No wonder my meals get boring, I have like. Two possible flavors I can give them.

So I have a request: recommend me a seasoning!

[jewishdainix]

i am eating. so good stuff. uhhh. like. ribs

Ooooooooh!!!

[glorious-destruction]

God was too scared of the version of me that did my assignments on time, didn’t have mental breakdowns every other day, and had laundry done. So instead he made me the most pathetic human being ever

[the-golden-ghost]

The thing about reheated fries is every so often you get some that are the devil's most perfect food. But USUALLY. They are ass

[yunogf]

been thinking abt my leftovers all day

[livvyofthelake]

sisters will suggest the most insane thing of all time and then get mad at you when you disagree with their ridiculous spiteful plan…

[rosalesbeausderholle]

American fast food chains that serve gargantuan proportions of extremely unhealthy food are not doing it out of some patriotic sentiment of wanting to feed their countrymen be fucking for real

[the-foley-knoll-horror]

Cold take I'm sure, but Panda Express has gotta be the single worst Chinese food place

[dragonbleps]

thought my period was just super light and short last week, but no it was just super late and beginning today

that would explain why i got emotional about leftover food last night :')

[theo-grayson]

i have eaten 2 servings of cheesecake today and im going to eat a 3rd later

[valen-dreth]

i love you soup🗣‼️‼️

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

🪤

[homunculus-argument]

If I had more money than I'd ever spend in a lifetime, I'd spend my life operating a pizzeria at a loss. Something with the slogan of "it ain't italian but you're hungry" - and a statement of how this is not authentic italian pizza because the owner's estranged aunt's italian ex-husband would not serve pizza in his italian restaurant because as far as he was concerned, a pizza is the "just throw that shit together" dish that you make out of leftovers, and he would not serve that to paying customers even if they wanted it. True story btw.

But I'd just like to run a place where the staff is allowed to tell rude customers to fuck off. And if they're scared to do that, they can summon me downstairs to do it myself (this fantasy involves having my own apartment upstairs of the restaurant), because you don't fucking disrespect my staff like that. Develop a reputation as a place where You'd Better Act Yourself or you get nothing, which elevates the quality of the food in peoples' minds because it's human to assume that more work=more worth, and if a pizza place can afford to simply throw rude customers out, that clearly must mean that the food is just that good that going back is worth it anyway.

Hiring enough people to get the work done in a leisurely pace and occasionally have the time to chat with each other or customers. You just do the job I gave you in the time I gave you, don't steal anything and don't watch porn off your phone anywhere where the customers can see you, you're good. Don't care if you quit school at 16 if you can still mop floor. Don't care if you've been to prison because you killed some guy, as long as you're not doing that here. Don't care if you deal drugs on your free time as long as you don't bring your business to your day job. This place is exclusively for pizza business.

Have an item on the menu called "random pizza" - and if you order that one, they'll just throw in a mix of whatever ingredients we've got too much of, like if the bell peppers gotta be used before they go bad, every single random pizza is going to have them until they're either gone or need to get tossed. If you've got dietary restrictions or allergies, you gotta specify that while ordering, because other than that, random pizza is just whatever ingredients we need to get rid of. Surplus ingredients du jour.

Building a reputation as a place that's somehow simultaneously sketchy as hell but also remarkably high quality, getting five star restaurant customer service from a waiter with blue hair and stick-n-poke tattoos, there's a homeless guy at the back of the kitchen eating an order that nobody picked up, every surface is spotless and no matter how important of a suit-and-tie you are, if you won't behave yourself the owner will personally physically fight you.

[fluidstatick]

When I was little, my dad hired a Cambodian refugee called Jack to help him drywall a dining room ceiling. Jack spoke very little English; he'd recently gotten a part time job in a little Asian deli not far from our home and needed to pick up some extra work. He was very kind to six year old me and my exhausted mom; he brought us day old leftovers from the deli counter often, and liked to tuck the knuckle of his index finger into the dimple in my cheek whenever I smiled at him.

He soaked up construction skills and other information like a sponge, and by the time he left my dad's tiny construction company he'd gotten his GED, learned to drive, reunited with his sister and her family, and had begun remodeling a vacant business on the rich side of town into a Cambodian restaurant. He invited us to their grand opening on lunar new year, and I'll never forget when he gave me a red envelope with five dollars in it and told me, "tonight I am the luckiest man in the world, so this will bring you luck, too."

Years later, my dad told me that Jack had witnessed his parents' murder during the khmer rouge, and was immediately separated from his sister. He had to cross the killing fields at Choeung Ek alone, on foot, eating grass and insects to survive. He somehow made it to Cam Ranh on the coast of Vietnam, where a distant friend of his father's put him on a boat to Seattle. Jack was nine years old.

I tell this story because, even though I haven't seen Jack or any of his relatives in thirty years, I pray he's well and happy and eating like a king tonight with everyone he loves, celebrating the long overdue demise of the pestilential sonofabitch who tried to wipe them out.

Fuck Henry Kissinger's pathetic ghost, and fuck all those who praise him. Fuck Imperialism. Fuck the genocidal war machine. Drink deep for the freedom of all souls tonight, my friends. And tomorrow, keep fighting.

[hucowboyification]

The next time i see a tiktok of a European going to america and going "OH MY GOD WHO CAN EAT THIS MUCH FOOD" at a family sized anything I'm going to cook and forcefeed their own ass to them.