#reliable! delicious! but unfortunately I like suffering

[rabbitcrimes]

I am obsessed with SangCheng but it only makes sense to me when the dynamic is ‘Jiang Cheng looks too hard at Nie Huaisang’s carefully arranged wrists one time and proceeds to lose control of his life.’ Jc has to be absolutely at the fucking brink and ready to risk life/limb/dignity/the farm/specifically his left leg just to dick down nhs. Jiang Cheng needs to be one fan flick from fucking losing it. Man who has one primary emotion and is extremely set in his ways finally driven insane by hot boy torments. Man who has never experienced an uncomplicated pleasure in his life SURELY not about to start now. Man who has been emotionally vulnerable on only three terrible occasions about to try and play a game and get the stupidest sexy prize imaginable from the man who has rigged the game. Bc THAT is what makes Nie Huaisang into it. It’s the only way.

[darling-i-read-it]

Releves

1x12

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems 

Author’s Note: Me being angry at hannibal despite it conflicting with my plans for this series are something else 

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine. 

Official Episode Summary : The BAU team finds evidence linking Abigail to the Minnesota Shrike victims; Will checks Abigail out of the hospital; Hannibal convinces Jack that Will is capable of murder.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif) 

You woke up and Will was gone. You must have fallen asleep on the chair beside his bed. You started to panic which had become a much too familiar feeling. You got up and started to walk around. You thought about asking a doctor or something but didn’t want to worry anyone but yourself just in case it was nothing. You walked through the halls, peeking in rooms for your boyfriend who slept walked more often than not these days. You got to the room of the girl who had been under your bed and Will was inside. 

“Will?” you whispered. He turned around.

“Hi. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Dont’ worry about it.” You glanced at her. She looked so much better than you had seen her last considering. 

“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” she said. “Georgia.”

“Y/N.” 

“I’m sorry, I heard I kinda crashed under your bed.” You shook your head and laughed.

“No worries there.” You turned to Will. “You should come back to your room.” He turned to Georgia sarcastically.

“Helicopter girlfriend,” he teased.

“Yeah I wouldn’t have to be if you slept through the night,” you confessed. Georgia laughed and you grabbed Will’s pole that he was holding. He nodded and waved goodbye to her before following you out the door.

You walked out of the room and he turned to you.

“She said they would never figure out what’s wrong with me,” he whispered.

“She’s not a doctor.” He glanced at you and then the ground as he shuffled along.

“You’re optimistic.”

“I gotta me. You’re pessimistic,” you whispered teasingly as you made it back to his room. He nodded.

“So you think they’ll figure it out?” You shook your head softly.

“I hope they do. But honestly, I think you’re too complicated for them.”

-

Will woke up later to a light conversation. You were sitting on the bed and Hannibal stood at the edge of it. 

“Well it is complicated,” Hannibal was saying quietly.

“What’s complicated?” Will asked. You looked over at him and smiled comfortingly.

“Nothing.” 

“You keeping secrets now?” Will teased, sitting up.

“We were talking about how to make this soup. Y/N said she couldn’t quite cook and I was sharing the recipe,” Hannibal explained.

“He’s brought food,” you said happily.

“Smells delicious.”

“Silkie chicken in a broth. A black boned bird prized in China for its medicinal value since the 7th century. With wolfberries, ginseng, ginger, red dates and star anise,” Hannibal explained.

“You made me chicken soup,” Will said and Hannibal offered a supportive smile. 

“Y/N says you’ve been wandering.” 

“I was awake. And wandering with purpose and good intentions,” he promised. You nodded.

“Just visiting around,” you promised. 

“Visiting that unfortunate young woman suffering from delusions?”

“She’s my support group,” he joked. You hit him gently. “You are also my support group. Relax.” Will got out of bed and sat down at the table while the three of you ate the broth together. “Could all of the things have been the fever Hannibal? Like the hallucinations or the sleepwalking, the loss of time,” Will asked as he sat down.

“It’s possible.”

“What else is possible?” you asked.

“Fevers can be symptoms of dementia. Dementia can be a symptom of many things happening in your body or mind that can no longer be ignored,” Hannibal said. 

“Does Jack know?”

“That this could be a fever? No I haven’t told him,” Hannibal said.

“He wouldn’t do anything about it either,” you muttered bitterly. 

“But shouldn’t you?” Will asked. 

“I believe Y/N may be right. Additionally we don’t know for certain.” 

-

Will walked with you into the room of Georgia who you felt as though you had just spoken to. Her charred body laid across the burn tank. 

“Hospital speculates a short circuit could have ignited the fire,” Jack muttered. 

“Unit looks well maintained. No exposed wiring,” Price said.

“Don’t know if she suffocated or burned to death. We’ll look for soot in the lining of her airways,” Zeller commented. Will lets out a shaky sigh and puts his hand almost protectively on your arm.

“Horrible way to die,” he whispered. 

-

Will woke up with a start and it woke you up. It was odd not to be laying beside him but you were sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed. He breathed heavily.

“Do you need something?” you whispered. Will grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bed. He wasn’t sweating and didnt’ feel hot. You wrapped your arms around him and he put his head on your chest.

“Sleep here,” he whispered. You nodded

-

The next day you walked into Abigail's room. It was the first time you had been away from Will since he had been admitted to the hospital. Hannibal had urged you to leave but not come back to work just yet although you would be back the next day.

She looked up and let out a sigh of relief.

“I thought you were Freddie,” she muttered. 

“Or Alana who is also watching you like a hawk?” you asked. She nodded. She knew you knew and that was a good thing when it came down to it. She didn't feel like she had to hide with you.

“Just anybody else,” she murmured. You walked inside and sat at the window sill with her.

“How have you been?”

“Do you know that Hannibal is in love with you and Will?” she asked. You choked on the air at the change of subject. She was a teenager. But still. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I thought it was weird when I noticed. I wanted to know if you had noticed,” she said. You shook your head.

“Will, Hannibal and I are close friends,” you said lightly.

“But you and Will are dating,” she suggested.

“Yeah so?”

“Hannibal loves the two of you as a unit I think,” she said. “I told him I thought of all of you as a weird parental group and he got oddly happy.” 

“Abigail-”

“It’s just an observation,” she whispered. “I’m fine.” You laughed at the change of tone.

“Good to hear.”

-

When you got back to the hospital Will was gone. You were notebally pissed. You walked right into the building where he worked and up to Jack Crawford's office. You could hear Will’s voice from down the hall. 

You opened the door aggressively and they both turned around. 

“Did you do this?” you asked at Jack.

“He checked himself out. I told him to go back,” he said honestly. You walked up to Will and put your hand on his forehead. Still warm but not boiling like he had been. 

“Why did you-”

“Jack thinks she killed herself. I think it’s the copy cat of Garret Jacob Hobbs.” You blinked twice. Even for Will, that was a stretch. But you trusted his instinct more than your own.

“And you can wait to catch them. It’s been this long,” you said, removing your hand. He shook his head. 

“I have to do it now. I’m thinking clearer, I’m finally thinking clearly.” His eyes pleaded but they still looked undescribingly broken. You glanced at Jack who clearly didn’t believe Will at all. “Jack also thinks Abigail had something to do with the murders.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not explaining this to you. You don't’ work for me,” Jack said.

“Neither does Will! He’s not on a payroll is he?” you asked. Jack let out a sigh.

“Will go talk to Hannibal,” Jack said simply.

“Finally something I can agree on,” you murmured.

-

Will ran up to you. It had been a few days since he released himself from the hospital and you were still annoyed about it. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow as he came out of the office of Hannibal's place. 

“The copycat,” he said. You nodded, curious to hear what he had to say. He rarely talked to you about any kind of stuff with his work. “Was planning to frame me for the murder of the doctor.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to do it. I was there,” you said.

“But you’re unreliable,” he said.

“Excuse me?” He shook his head.

“You’re my girlfriend. You would have been accused of lying,” he said. You shook your head.

“I am very reliable. Why are you telling me this?” He shrugged.

“You need to know.” 

-

First day back at work. This was a mistake.

You ran your hand over your head and Jack Crawford walked in. He thought about asking you what he was about to ask Hannibal but decided against it. 

“You don’t have an appointment,” you said bitterly.

He opened the door anyway. You were still working when Hannibal and Jack opened the door quickly. Hannibal looked at you and you thought about what Abigail had said. That he was in love with you and Will. You pushed it aside when you saw the pity in his eyes.

“Where’s Will?” he asked.

“At home. Hopefully. Why?”

“Will Graham is at Garett Jacob Hobbs house with Abigail,” Jack said. You scoffed.

“You on something?” 

“Where was Will on the night of Marrisa Schuur’s murder? ‘

“Again, at home presumably.” Hannibal stared at you. Hard. “What?” 

“Will dissociates into other personalities. Whose personality is it?” Jack asked. “Will got close enough to Hobbs to think he was him.” 

You scoffed again.

“Sorry, what the hell is your point?”

“Will is going to kill Abigail. And he killed the girls before,” Hannibal said. You stared in Hannibal’s eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I’m serious.”

“Hannibal you know him! He trusts you to know him,” you seethed, standing up from anger and audacity. You pointed a hard finger at him. “Will Graham didn’t kill anyone he didn't’ have to.”

“The evidence suggests-” Jack started

“Hey Jack, I don’t really care what you’re about to say and so if you say it I’ll have to hit you or Hannibal or something.”

“I’m going to get Abigail,” Hannibal said. Jack walked out of the room but your gaze stayed steady on Hannibal’s. 

“You don’t think he did this,” you said. 

“A statement and not a question?” You shook your head.

“He didn’t do this.”

1x13

[storytaeme]

celebration – vmin

Doctors had always been his enemy, however, for the sake of the Christmas champagne, he would get his teeth fixed up by the cutest dentist. 

vmin week 2017 – taehyung x jimin

❧ Elements: Fluff  |  Dentist AU, Christmas Party AU

❧ Word Count: 5,353 words

❧ A/N: Merry Christmas, you guys!! I procrastinated again and hence this was finished off again in a little over 2 hours. It was fun to write so I hope you can enjoy it :^D (forgive typos my eyes r blurry rn)

Taehyung didn’t like doctors very much. As a kid, he had shied away from anyone who even resembled the authoritative figure. It wasn’t as if he had some traumatizing experience getting stabbed with a needle in the wrong part of his body—no. Doctors were generally just intimidating with their lab coats and strong frowns. They tried to play nice when he was younger, smiled and offered him a lollipop. But as he grew older, the fear towards them only amplified. They were less nice too—he never got candy anymore.

Whenever he could, he would just get his own medicine and treat his own wounds and sicknesses, avoiding the doctor as much as he could. However, there came a time in every adult’s life when they must face their fear for the good of their lives and the world itself.

The time for Taehyung was upon him.

It happened sometime close to Christmas. It was the first week of December and someone from the office, Seokjin, had brought homemade fruitcake for everyone in the building to nibble on. Seokjin was commonly known as the chef of the crew. He was an expert in all sorts of goodies and treats, which made everyone wonder why he went corporate instead of opening his own bakeshop. So fruitcakes were never a huge Thing with anyone, but the man had his way of making it so that everyone could enjoy it. It was delicious and Taehyung looked forward to it every year.

Unfortunately for him that year, things took a turn for the worse. It was in the first bite that Taehyung found himself in pure agony. He had released a yelp which caught the attention of the baker himself who hurried over in worry. “Oh my God, are you okay? Did you bite something hard?”

Taehyung winced and swallowed the treat. It went down smoothly so surely there was nothing in the cake that was the problem. However, his cheek was throbbing painfully and he could feel it swelling grossly. “Ugh,” he groaned, “this hurts, what the fuck?”

“Ha,” Jeongguk, an intern who had the guts of a senior member, snorted, “you must have a hole in your tooth or something. That’s what you get for not flossing.” This was probably his karma for making fun of Jeongguk for flossing after every meal. It wasn’t his fault—flossing was just such a tedious task, he didn’t know why anyone did it after every meal.

“Fuck off, Jeon,” he snapped, the pain biting at his cheek once again. This was such a bitch to deal with, especially during Christmas when everyone was in the gift-giving mood which meant that there was always something good to eat in the office—free of charge. He loved Christmas and all of its capitalism glory.  

Seokjin’s brows furrowed in concern. “He might be right, Taehyung-ah, when was the last time you went to the dentist?”

Answer: ninth grade when he needed to take his braces off.

Like he said, doctors scared him, but dentists were the worst. How anyone could just dig into someone’s mouth like that, drill holes into their teeth, and stick on pieces of metal that would magically right the structuring of his teeth was beyond him. If Taehyung limited his visits to his general practitioner, he downright avoided his dentist religiously. The guy was hell to deal with, was merciless when it came to numbing to pain (read: he never fucking numbed Taehyung to the pain). He needed to find a new one but had managed long enough to avoid the task for a double win situation in which he could eschew yet another doctor, as well as the actual dentist hunting job.

“Dunno, been a while,” he lied through his teeth which was still stinging.

“You should go, definitely go before Namjoon’s party.”

Namjoon was another of their coworker but was a close friend in their tight knit group. He held his annual Christmas party at his huge penthouse that his parents had gotten for him after graduation and always celebrated with a ton of booze and great snacks. It was a dream come true for an office worker like Taehyung who worked a low position that paid bordering on minimum wage. Plus, the guy always had the best champagne in the house that left Taehyung buzzing and giggly for the night.

“I hate my dentist, hyung,” Taehyung whined.

“Kim Taehyung,” Seokjin scolded as Jeongguk snickered, “you are a grown man, you are 27—”

“Excuse you, I am 28.”

“Even worse!” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air, “you should definitely get that checked up. I know a good friend of mine who just picked up a job nearby. He’s pretty reliable and was top of his class so he can take good care of you.”

Taehyung was about to spit out another whine about the evil of dentists but Seokjin only shoved a namecard in his direction. He took it gratefully and stared at it, hoping that his glare would burn holes right through it so he would avoid going to it. Alas, fate was not with him, and he didn’t have laser beams for eyes. In addition to that, he really, really wanted to enjoy that good ass champagne in Namjoon’s house.

Thus, some sacrifices must be made. Taehyung made his way to the dentist right after work.

“Did you go, Kim Taehyung?” Seokjin pressed, slamming his hand on his desk. It was break time and Seokjin had stalked his way over to his desk to interrogate him.

“Yeah, I’m a-okay, hyung,” he grinned.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes suspiciously before pulling out a cold bottle of water. The sight of it had his stomach sinking. “Drink this.”

“Hyung—”

“Do it.”

Fuck, he was fucked. He brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips and thought, hey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Taehyung has learned that he was wrong about a lot of things in life—this was only another to add onto his list.

The pain was excruciating, traveling all the way from the ache in his teeth to a muddy fizzling in his brain. He let out a yelp as he banged his head against his desk to alleviate some of the pain with another. “Fucking shit, motherfucking holy shit,” Taehyung let out expletive after expletive as he continued to ram his forehead into his table.

“Serves you right,” Seokjin laughed, “I told you to go. Why didn’t you?”

“It’s scary, hyung,” Taehyung pouted, hoping that his cutesy act would work.

But his friend always had a better act, so it wasn’t surprising that it didn’t work on him. “Nice try, buddy. I’m calling my friend right now to book you and appointment and, if you don’t go, I will know and you will suffer my wrath. Understood?” Taehyung stuck out his bottom lip further. “I said, understood?”

“Yes, hyung,” he said, defeated.

That was how he ended up standing in front of the dentist office. That tooth sign above the building with the smiley face on it was taunting him, mocking him for being too chicken shit to even go into the place. He sucked up a huge breath before walking inside. There were so many people. It was terrifying.

Taehyung was about to walk outside when the nurse stopped him. “Kim Taehyung?”

Holy shit, how did they know his name? They were part of the mafia, weren’t they? He fucking knew there was something off about doctors. They all probably conspired for world domination. “Um, yes,” he squeaked.

“Welcome!” she grinned, “I’ve been instructed by one of our doctors to intercept you should you attempt to leave.”

What the fuck? “Who’s the doctor?”

“Dr. Park, he said that his friend called in to make sure you arrived. Since you’re already here, why don’t you take a seat? He’s finishing up with a patient and should be with you momentarily.”

Taehyung had his hands tied. It wasn’t as if he could run when the nurse kept a hawk’s eye on him, smiling at him every once in a while almost threateningly. It was as if she was warning him that she had a close watch on him. His knee kept bouncing the entire time. The clock was ticking aloud on the wall, reminding him of the passing seconds that came closer to his death. When his name was finally called, Taehyung let out a yelp and jumped to his teeth. That earned him a few chuckles from the other patients. Har de har, good to know his pain was bringing them some form of amusement.

“Follow me, Mr. Kim,” the nurse smiled sweetly and led him down another hallway towards one of the rooms.

Dr. Park Jimin

Holy shit. He was going to die. The nurse announced his arrival and he heard a deeper, more masculine voice respond from the other side. When he finally stepped in, really, the last thing he was expecting was a cherubic looking man who had a crinkly-eyed smile greeting him. He looked almost like an angel. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement. “Um, hi,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Taehyung right? Seokjin-hyung called earlier,” Jimin nodded. Taehyung wondered if Seokjin had exposed his fear of doctors despite being in his late twenties. “I heard you had a difficult time coming here so I appreciate you making the effort.” Yep, he definitely told him.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a situation,” he chuckled nervously.

“Don’t be so scared,” Jimin smiled politely and gestured to the seat, “please. Get yourself comfortable and I’ll be with you in a second. I’ll just do a quick checkup to see the problem and we can fill in the holes should you need. Does that sound good?”

Taehyung could only manage a nod before robotically making his way over to the seat. He settled back and shifted around to get his shoulders to stop tensing up. But every time Jimin made some noise behind him where he couldn’t see, all he could picture was all the ways he could escape the room.

When Jimin finally appeared before him, snapping his gloves into place (Taehyung gulped at that), Taehyung was practically shuddering in fear. It didn’t go by unnoticed by the man, of course. “Are you okay, Taehyung-ssi?”

“F-fine, just a little nervous.”

Jimin’s lips quirked up on the corners. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt one bit. If you experience pain at any point, please let me know. Some things may sting a little but it shouldn’t be intolerable.”

Taehyung agreed obediently and opened his mouth when Jimin gestured him to do so. As Jimin said, he explained the procedure very carefully and slowly to ensure Taehyung that he knew exactly what he was doing. Taehyung would be so embarrassed with how calmly the dentist was speaking to him as if he were coaxing a child to relax if he weren’t so terrified. However, as promised, Jimin did everything quick and painlessly. Sure, there was a bit of a zing here and there, but it was nothing he could not handle.

The nurses left soon after as Jimin finished up with one last check up. “Looks perfect,” he grinned, eyes disappearing again. The entire time Jimin was chipping away at his teeth, which is so unsexy by the way, Taehyung’s gaze focused solely on the man’s face. Up close, he was even more breathtaking. His blonde hair falling upon his eyes and his gaze zoned in on Taehyung so intensely that he felt his breath hiccup in his throat. His cheeks were soft and rosy, round enough like a dumpling that Taehyung wanted to bite him.

It was a peculiar and novel reaction to a doctor. Taehyung had never experienced it before.  

“You’re all set,” Jimin beamed, patting his shoulder thoughtfully once he’s removed his gloves. “Please rinse your mouth there and I’ll give you a flyer of tips on how to care for your teeth.”

Taehyung did as he was instructed but his eyes still followed Jimin around the room as he fiddled around with folders and tools. The doctor seemed aware of his attention and turned around, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”

“N-no, no,” he coughed, eyes widening, “sorry. You just look very young, nothing like what I expected.”

Jimin laughed, taking no offense in his words. “Why thank you. I am quite young for a practicing dentist. I graduated early from university and jumped on training after training to get to where I am faster. A bit of an overachiever as you can see.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Ambition is great,” Taehyung praised honestly because he really was impressed by his dedication.

“How about you?” he tilted his head, “Seokjin-hyung said you worked with him at the office.”

“Yeah, HR. Pretty cool when you’re not dealing with assholes in the department,” Taehyung shrugged. His job was pretty boring, especially when all he could do was sit in a cubicle waiting for tasks to be handed over to him. Seokjin was the head so he worked under him and he was a fantastic supervisor, but Taehyung couldn’t help but want something more for himself.

The dentist smiled understandingly. “I get you. It’s always kind of scary when you settle, but also when you have shitty coworkers. The nurses here are wonderful but, don’t tell anyone, the head nurse scares the living shit out of me.”

Taehyung laughed genuinely at that, heart easing of his worries. “It’s always the heads, huh?”

“Though, I do love head,” Jimin said nonchalantly as he tucked documents under his arm.

He said it so casually that Taehyung almost missed it, but he gasped, lips parting in surprise. “Did you just drop a dirty line?”

Jimin smirked, “Did I?”

“You really are a pretty weird doctor,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he giggled and the sound had birds singing outside. He might even pass as a Disney princess if the company ever took ethereal human beings to represent royalty. “Anyway, here are some brochures for you to read up on. Make sure to keep your gums and teeth healthy, Taehyung-ssi, if you want to avoid another trip to the doctor.” Taehyung flushed at that, but knew Jimin only meant well. “Also,” he lifted up a small box, “complimentary floss from me so you can keep your teeth clean.”

Flossing, ugh. He nodded, accepting it gratefully. “Thanks, Dr. Park.”

“Please, we’re the same age, call me Jimin.

Taehyung blanched, “You’re the same age as me?”

“Hyung didn’t tell you?” Jimin looked amused then, “how odd. But yeah, we’re both born in ’95.”

Holy shit. Taehyung felt so in over his head. “Wow, what are the odds?”

“Pretty big actually,” Jimin grinned, “so yep, that’s all from me. Any other questions?”

Are you single? Can I have your number? Do you like dogs? Can I marry you? How are you not as scary as every other doctor I’ve had as a kid?

“Nope,” he answered simply, “thanks, Jimin. It’s been nice meeting you.”

“You too, Taehyung, I’ll see you around.”

Taehyung thought that it was kind of cute that he was already dropping honorifics, but chose not to peep a word about it. With one last bow, he made his way over to the door.

However, before he could make it very far, Jimin intercepted him to hand him a lollipop. “For your gallant efforts,” he grinned, no malice or mocking whatsoever in his voice.

Taehyung might just be in love.

—

Namjoon’s penthouse was perhaps the most luxurious place Taehyung had ever set foot upon. While his apartment was a little on the smaller side, Namjoon had a generous amount of space to host his guests. The guy wasn’t a snob at all either, always so kind with his wealth and so philanthropic. Husband material, some might say.

When he arrived, dressed in a crisp salmon shirt, top button popped open, and his favorite jeans that made his ass looked fucking fantastic, Namjoon was the one to greet him. “Taehyung! You made it! How’s your teeth?”

Namjoon also was dating Seokjin so that meant that he was privy to every single bit of information that Seokjin knew—including the suffering of his colleagues and employees. “Perfect,” he grinned for added measure, flashing his perfect set of teeth.

“Great, ‘cause I’ve got that champagne you like.”

Taehyung breathed in, cupping the man’s face. “I think I love you.”

Namjoon only laughed and ushered him in, “You have to compete with Seokjin then for my affections. Food is out on the table, you know where everything is, don’t break anything, have fun.” With those last tidbits of advice, the elder was whisked away to tend to his other guests, namely Hoseok who was on the verge of toppling over Namjoon’s bookcase.

Taehyung mingled with a few coworkers he recognized. They ran in similar social circles so their friends overlapped, allowing the younger to interact with a lot of the people there. He was a bit of a social butterfly, if he had to admit. He didn’t really have a hard time communicating with others and initiating talks that could have them droning on and on for hours—he wasn’t sure whether it was a gift or a curse.

He stuffed his face stupid with food and too many flutes of that delicious champagne. His eyes scanned the crowd, most of the faces identified as familiar in his brain directory. However, only one individual stood out amongst the rest and he was standing in a far corner, quietly nursing his drink.

“Hey, Jimin right?” Taehyung grinned.

“Yeah, oh, Taehyung!” he snapped his fingers, seeming accomplished that he could recall his former patient’s name. “How are you doing? How’s your teeth?”

That’s the second time he’s been asked tonight, third if you included Jeongguk making fun of him for being scared of the dentist. He had gotten an ass whooping for that alone. “Teeth is great, pearly white and clean,” he widened his smile to show to his doctor that he had indeed taken his advice. Except for the flossing, he was going to make a ban on that.

“That’s great to hear,” Jimin looked relieved, “I hope there was no more pain afterwards.”

“I’ve been gorging down cake like there’s no tomorrow and a shit ton of this,” he lifted up his glass, “it’s great. I love having nice teeth again so I can stuff my face stupid. Have you eaten yet?”

Jimin brightened at that, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, hyung is a great cook, I still can’t believe he prepared everything for tonight. If I could husband that man, I would.”

“You take him, I’ll take Namjoon-hyung. It’ll be the perfect cockblocking plan.”

The other boy tinkled with laughter adorably, the sound ringing sweetly in his ears. Taehyung found himself seeking for jokes and material in his mind to elicit the same sounds from him. They ended up chatting amicably, picking up more champagne and snacks to fill their bellies. Somewhere halfway through the night, the two settled down on the couch. Taehyung leaning close to tell his stories, albeit a little drunkenly. Jimin leaning even closer to listen in and share his adorable reactions. They bumped foreheads every once in a while when they got too close, then proceeded to laugh at how ridiculous that was.

“You guys look comfy,” Seokjin showed up sometime afterwards, grinning from ear to ear. “Who knew that Taehyung would get over his fear of doctors by attempting to hook up with one?”

Jimin flushed prettily at that, his cheeks reddening to tomatoes and his ears heating up a fiery pink. Taehyung only scoffed, “Way to ruin my chances, hyung. I could’ve had a win-win there—get rid of my stupid phobia and nail a cute man. You’ve foiled it all.”

“My apologies,” Seokjin hummed, “but not really. You guys are grossly cute. I think I saw Jeongguk pop a boner just by watching the two of you.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Jeongguk is an infant who gets his dick hard from seeing a good pastry. Don’t even deny it, I’ve seen it happen when you brought your homemade hazelnut croissants to work.” Then he directed his attention to Jimin, “Jeongguk is this brat in our division. Big muscles, scary eyebrows, but he is a baby. Our baby.”

Jimin chuckled again at that, patting Taehyung’s thigh comfortingly. “I think I’ve seen him around. Though, what’s cuter is probably your fear of doctors. I had no idea you had that.”

Seokjin snorted, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen him, he tried to lie about going to the dentist that I had to call you up,” he sighed, offering Taehyung his own condolences.

Heaven help him. Taehyung was about to offer his own condolences to his chances with Park Jimin. The man, he learned, was brilliant and beautiful at the same time. Also he had the brawns what with his toned body and gym addiction. He was the ultimate triple threat, the ultimate boyfriend material.

“Why are you still here?” Taehyung jutted out his bottom lip.

“Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted, you ass,” Seokjin hissed, getting to his feet. “Have fun, kids, don’t forget to use protection.”

When he finally walked away, Taehyung let out a frustrated huff. He really did need better friends who wouldn’t fuck up his chances with every cute guy he tried to chat up. It’s happened too many times before, especially when Jeongguk got a little too drunk during their one department outing to a club and he had draped himself all over Taehyung that he missed out on the chance of getting that sugar daddy.

Though, he supposed fate worked in funny ways. If he had a sugar daddy, he might not have been so keen to seek out Park Jimin this way, and that would’ve been the biggest regret of his life. The two of them had good chemistry that neither of them could deny. Even after only one interaction and that lengthy conversation, Taehyung felt as if he had found a new best friend in this man.

“So was it true?” Jimin asked then, turning his head cutely. God, Taehyung wanted to kiss his plump lips and maybe suck in that bottom lip and bite it.

“What? My fear of doctors?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow and Jimin’s lips tightened and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know. They freak me out. I’ve always been kind of terrified of them, not sure why. They’re kind of scary, you have to admit. Lab coats and that intimidating glare.”

Jimin giggled again, running his hand up Taehyung’s arm. “Do you think I’m intimidating?”

“No, you’re just… really cute. Like really, really cute,” Taehyung frowned, wondering if he was satisfied with that answer. Jimin was far from frightening, the guy practically existed like an angel.

“Hm, really? That’s good to hear,” Jimin murmured thoughtfully. Before Taehyung realized, the man had already placed a warm palm on his thigh. His touch burned and Taehyung suddenly was hyperaware of how close they were. He could feel Jimin’s breath against his neck, against his cheek. His hand on his leg squeezing the flesh underneath as if to remind Taehyung that it was fucking there. The air in the room seemed to diffuse out completely, leaving him a little breathless. How had he not been aware of the tension that arose between the two of them until then?

Taehyung could only babble his agreement, taking another big gulp of his drink to get more liquid courage.

“So,” Jimin started, scooting even closer if that were possible. Their bodies were pressed together, leaving no room for Taehyung to breathe. Jimin tightened his hold around his thigh again, looking up from his pretty lashes at Taehyung. “Since you’re so scared, why don’t I give you private checkups? I can make sure that you’re fit and healthy.”

“P-private checkups?” His brain suddenly stopped working. How did one even comprehend sentences when Park Jimin was this close?

“Mhmm,” Jimin hummed, creeping his hand up higher. He was so close, so close to his crotch. Taehyung’s zipper might burst from the sheer tenacity of its desire to seek Jimin’s hand. “I can get my hands all over you, make sure you’re nice and comfy before I start checking your body. Make sure everything is functioning fine and that you’re still a healthy, growing boy.”

Taehyung wanted to say that he was no longer growing, but the thought of Jimin calling him a good boy, that he was a healthy boy, had his dick stirring in his pants. God, he could practically imagine Jimin in his coat, laying him back on the bed and exploring every inch of him. He would run his heated hands and act as if he was checking on Taehyung, fondling his nipples and pinching them. Then he would wander his hand down south, ghosting over the softness of his stomach before wrapping around his dick.

Taehyung wanted to cry just letting his imagination take over. He was perfectly aware that he was basically hyperventilating at that point with the thought of a sexy doctor roleplay with Park Jimin. All thoughts and fears of doctors seemed to fly out the window when it was Jimin handling him. He could most definitely roll with that.

This was going to be the death of him. RIP Kim Taehyung.

“Yeah,” Taehyung swallowed thickly, “I think I can work with that.”

Jimin grinned smugly, “That’s good. I can even do the private checkup in my house, lay you out on my comfortable bed to make sure you’re relaxed and ready for me. Do you want that?”

Yes, yes, fuck yes. Sign him the fuck up. He was going to book himself for this one-on-one session everyday for the next five years of his life. He was ready.

Instead he said, “Yep, yep, sounds great.” He was barely keeping it together. His chest was so tight with his lungs pushing out what was left of his breaths.

“Do you want me to check on you, baby?” Jimin tittered close to him, teeth catching the shell of his ear teasingly. Fuck. Taehyung jerked a little in his seat. The member between his legs was throbbing painfully, practically begging for a release. God, he could feel sweat collecting in the back of his neck and making his palms all clammy. He was reacting like a prepubescent boy, Christ, he needed to get laid soon. Preferably by this sexy dentist who probably knew just how to toy with his mouth, maybe fuck into it with his dick too.

Shit.

“Taehyung?” Jimin whispered.

“Hm?” His voice sounded strained, forced. He was on the cusp of a breakdown and an orgasm at the same time. This was torture.

“You wanna get out of here?” Jimin squeezed his thigh again. Bad move, very bad move. He wanted to come on the spot. “My place isn’t too far away and I drove so—”

He leapt to his feet, bouncing lightly as he offered a hand out to the other boy. “Yes, shit, fuck yes. Let’s go. I’m ready to bolt and have you fuck my ass or the other way around.”

Jimin’s lips parted in surprise, his eyes briefly glancing around the room to see if anyone had noticed them. Fortunately, everyone was busy with their own devices and conversations, far too distracted to notice the bubbling sexual tension between the two of them. That was, except for Seokjin. But Jimin shouldn’t mention it to Taehyung then because it might ruin the moment. So he took his hand and grinned up at him. “Let’s go, baby, I’ll make sure you feel all nice and cozy with me.”

It was safe to say that Taehyung went back to Jimin’s place and had the release of a lifetime. It was like magic had rained down fairy dust upon the world and righted all of its wrongs. His orgasms (yes, fucking plural) were mind-blowing and muscle-exploding. He couldn’t move an inch afterwards. His ass was thoroughly fucked out because, turns out, Jimin was pretty rough when it came to bed and Taehyung really, really wasn’t complaining. He had gotten a nice, satisfying fuck from a very, very pretty man who was lying down next to him in that moment.

Jimin looked beautiful awake, looked beautiful as he fucked into Taehyung from above and leaned down to capture his lips. But he also looked beautiful asleep, his expression smoothed out into one of absolute peacefulness and serenity. His shoulders were bare and so was the rest of him underneath the sheets.

Taehyung took his time drinking in the man’s glorious beauty and wondering how God could have gifted someone with all the powers in the world to rule it. Life really wasn’t fair. But for now, Taehyung could feel that at least his irrational fear of doctors had been somewhat cured but also  compensated by this lovely man across from him.

He scooted closer, draping his hand over Jimin’s waist and feeling the boy tuck himself into Taehyung’s chest. His heart felt like it was about to burst and it was strange to feel so much for someone he’s only known for a short period of time. It might just be the post-orgasm high, but he would take it for that moment. He had all the time in the world to figure it out after all.

With that, he allowed his eyes to close, eyelids fluttering shut, and fall into deep slumber, dreaming of a beautiful man who could fuck the living daylights out of him but shit sunshine out of his ass. It was a good night.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin chided and the guilty man turned around to look at his boyfriend sheepishly. It was in their fourth month anniversary and Taehyung had taken him out to a good dessert place somewhere in between both their workplaces to sit back and relax. They had enjoyed their time there and managed to fill their bellies full of ice cream and cakes to their heart’s content and their stomach’s suffering.

“Yes, honey?”

Jimin narrowed his eyes sharply at him, flinging the tiny package in his direction. “Don’t honey me.”

“Jiminie—”

“Not that either.”

Taehyung pouted petulantly, “You’re being mean. And it’s our anniversary too.”

“It’s been four months, darling. When we’ve gotten past a year, then you can start breaking the rules. But for now, you live under my boyfriend umbrella so you have to follow what I tell you to do.”

In any other situation, Taehyung would find his being bossy a sexy trait. Jimin knew how to control himself in bed and knew even better how to control Taehyung just the way the both of them liked it. However, in that moment, all he wanted to do was throw a tantrum and toss that blasted thing into a flaming pit of fire.

“You’re mean,” Taehyung repeated like a child but popped open the lid again.

“Do you really want another hole in your teeth? I patched one up a month ago and you’re already pulling this shit again.”

“It sucks,” he whined, nuzzling his face into Jimin’s neck.

Jimin kept him at arm’s length and raised an eyebrow, “Don’t play with me, Tae. Do it.”

Releasing a sigh of surrender, Taehyung nodded solemnly and pulled it out. He cut off the floss with the cap and began to work at the gaps between his teeth, picking out everything he needed to keep it clean.

His boyfriend beamed proudly and cooed while pinching his cheek. “That’s my good boy. I’ll reward you good tonight, okay? You’ve kept your teeth clean after all.”

“Does that mean I get to suck your dick again?” Taehyung’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes, baby, yes it does.”

[21stcenturyhogwarts]

War hero Sturgis Podmore expands popular coffee chain to Scotland

Gastrowitch | Reviews: Pods

It’s hard to go anywhere in wizarding Britain these days without stumbling across a Pods at every corner -- my muggleborn friends call it the ‘wizard’s Starbucks’, referring to a muggle coffee chain found everywhere across the globe. 

What started out as a simple coffee club in war hero Sturgis Podmore’s basement has since grown into a profitable franchise. Investment-keen witches and wizards have been advised by The Wizard’s Financier to sink their galleons into Pods stocks, especially now that the franchise has expanded to Scotland, opening their largest store in Hogsmeade. 

Funnily enough, Pods started out as a joke among Podmore and his friends from the Order of the Phoenix; ‘Pods’ is the nickname they gave him at Hogwarts, one that reflected both his name and his herbology obsession. After the war -- during which he suffered terribly under the Imperius Curse, survived Azkaban, then returned to fight in the Order -- he started a coffee club for these friends. 

“We would meet in his basement every week and have a laugh,” says Hestia Jones. “Or a cry. Sometimes both, especially after one of his unique concoctions.”

These concoctions have become wildly popular, especially ‘the big five’: Boomslang Black, Olibanum Brew, Fluxweed Cooler, Hellebore Latte, and Sneezewort Frappe. The new Hogsmeade store currently has a 1-for-1 promotion going on for these drinks, resulting in snaking queues on the sidewalk.

The Boomslang Black and Sneezewort Frappe remain reliably delicious across all stores: the former pert and shivery, the latter more like a euphoria-inducing milkshake than a coffee blend. The other drinks unfortunately vary from barista to barista, especially the notoriously difficult Olibanum Brew, which if brewed carelessly can lead to dangerous levels of misplaced confidence.

Thankfully, the witch in charge of the new Hogsmeade branch knows what she’s doing. The Olibanum Brew I tried there was astonishingly good, a smooth and bitter drink that left me calm and relaxed for hours.

Rating: 3.5 stars Nearest floo station: there’s a Pods near almost every station

Other Gastrowitch Reviews can be found here, here and here.

More 21st century wizarding here

This is for everyone who wanted to see some wizarding coffee!

Please check out 21CH’s new website, preferably on a full screen browser so that all the new features are available – such as a news ticker that will change from time to time :) There’s also an FAQ page, news about the upcoming online store, and a newsletter you can subscribe to!

[foxybluesky]

What Anabolic Fasting is All About [DETAILED]

Would you believe that Anabolic fasting is the new trail trending in the fitness sector? In fact, that trend is really hitting it big for models and individuals who wish to appear more gorgeous in shape, stature, and appearance in general. Anabolic fasting is just a way you can launch into to reduce the way at which you eat food. This mode of reduction in food intake happens in various options you can choose from, either weekly or daily intervals. You'll no longer be bothered about the shape of your body, nor these frowns for your outrageous pot belly! I can even assert a fact that anabolic fast is the cheapest way that'll perfect your system's activeness. Anabolic fasting is the simplest, and affordable activity that'll build you awesomely as you aim for. What if I tell you it only demands that you rearrange the pattern at which you eat? Read: Slums Test What You Should Know Just as many do, you’re inquiring for that one diet which can give you the weight loss you need without taking away precious muscle or ruining your body composition. Well, the anabolic fasting diet is probably what you’ve been looking for all this time. (1)(2)(3) Like you already understand, these bulking pills are too common since a whole lot of them offer incredible results.

Anabolic Fasting's Dietary Precautions

Avoid Carbohydrates The first and most important step in the anabolic diet is to minimize your carb intake. Of course, giving your body elements of carbohydrates is crucial (they act as a quick root of energy), though the amount most of us tend to eat is really much. You can address that. (4)(5)(6) Read: How to Make Yourself Fart When Bloated When you supply your body system with carbs, you get a reliable assurance of gaining pounds – and it’ll as well make losing your weight a bit difficult than it should be. Hence, you might bother about that degree at which you’ll have to limit the way you take your carb. Actually, it's your ideal aim to get as close to the lowest carb intake as possible. (7)(8)(9) Read: How To Get Hanging Breasts Of course, you have to make sure your body has that sufficient energy throughout the whole day. Then, you have to ensure that energy will come from other kinds of meals. It does mean you’ll be alternating the carbs you took out from your plate with proteins and fats. (10)(11)(12) Your body is naturally inclined to revitalize food into energy – and yes, I'm talking about all kinds of food, not just carbs. You can always burn fat and protein to derive that necessary boost, but you’ve been depending on carbs for so long such that it takes a while for your body to start the whole process. Read: Sore Throats In Early Pregnancy

Two New Dietary Guides For Anabolic Fasting

You have to train your system (and by extension, your metabolic procedures) by eating low carbs for twelve respective days. Certainly, you’ll have to get nutrients and energy from protein, amino acid, and fat. You can then afterward load up on carbs for 24 hours (this is always regarded as refeed time). (13)(14)(15) Related 11 Amazing Benefit Of Pumpkin Leaf/Ugu Meanwhile, the goal of acquiring these high carb days is to reset the levels of your insulin. That’s necessary if you actually determine to jumpstart your body's metabolism and speed up the process fat-burning. Immediately you’re done with this process, you’ll be changing to another plan of the meal. At this moment, you still need to keep to a low carb diet for five consecutive days. Though,  your target is much more specific. For instance, 25 grams or less every day. Hence, as you may have guessed, you definitely have two days to enjoy carbohydrate-rich meals after the five-day time. (16)(17)(18) Read:How To Get Long Thick Hair In a Week Back, Butt or Venus Dimples We're there now. So, this your new diet plan for anabolic fasting will be something like this below: 1. Anabolic fasting during Weekdays I repeat, your daily carbohydrate intake shouldn’t be more than 25 grams, so ideally, you’ll be deriving it through protein - or fat-rich food. Although, most of your meals should consist of 40% protein and 60% fat. A perfect example would be steak with the fat intact, drizzled with a bit of gravy. (19)(20)(21) Here’s something important that you should have at heart: during the course of observing this diet plan, you must do away with dairy products or grain meals. Although they wouldn't seem to conceive many calories, those food items still have enough carbs to make it hard to stay below the target intake. 2. Anabolic Fasting During Weekends Weekends will make you enjoy some of the carb-rich foods which are your favorites. Your meal can now be 25% fat,  60% carbohydrate, and 15% protein. (22)(23)(24) Warning! Make sure you stick to this ratio (no matter how much you miss carbs, you really shouldn’t overdo it). Kindly do away with huge pasta plates, pizza slices which are large, or a large serving of cake. During weekends you just need enough carbs to help your body recover from all the muscle-building and to prevent it from burning muscle tissue as fuel – a procedure that wastes protein synthesis. Gum Massage Benefits home remedies for glowing skin in 10 days Natural Remedy for Hips Enlargement Home Remedies Home Remedies For Piles Tailor your actual aim to eating few carbs as low as possible. Ensure that the amount of that carb will help your body recover from all the processes of muscle-building, hereby preventing it from burning muscle tissue as fuel.

Dietary Suggestions for Anabolic Fasting

Hands down, everyone has a difficult time during the first few zero carb days. It’s is just likely that you’ll feel exhausted and irritable – with that, your focus will as well suffer, especially since you’ll as well face constant cravings for carbohydrate-rich meals.(25)(26)(27)(28) But don't worry. All these will subsequently leave, just as your body gets used to your new eating habits and start its anabolic response. Just remember though, that carbohydrates are not the sole edible things. The most important thing is also how it gives a delicious taste. Read: Benefit of Eating Fresh Fruits With no doubt, burgers wouldn't be complete if you don't add buns. We both know, that cake is also an awesome addition to any lavish lunch. Still, you really don’t need them to enjoy your eating. You could always check out these below sample foods. You’ll be astonished that with the appropriate anabolic fasting diet, you don’t have to be a slave to carbohydrates: Spanish or Italian hamMackerel drizzled with olive oil served with salad and some cheese cubesBacon, whole eggs, and spinachOats, milk, and raisinQuinoa salad with spinach and grilled chicken breast Also, you should also have in mind that which you eat as a pre-workout meal. You’ll have to look into your post-workout meal too. The above can undoubtedly support your bodybuilding goals, helping you to achieve the most out of your training and fast cardio sessions. Read: Ways to Cure Sore Throat During Pregnancy Naturally Then, ensure that you always examine how your body reacts and make adjustments as necessary. Diets function at different extents and sometimes refuse to provide expected results.

Reaching Your Anabolic Fasting Aims, the Appropriate Way

We both know that Fasting can be in many forms, such as anabolic fast and the wolverine diet which can also be incorporated into the anabolic diet. What’s really important is to manage your carb consumption to maximize muscle growth and loss of fat, without countering health and form. On this note, you should be more cautious of how your body responds to this diet, or to any diet in this dietary situation. Frequently ensure to keep in mind that diets (even the one we’ve discussed here) tend to work at different extents, and even refuse to provide results in certain situations. Access the manner at which your body reacts and make adjustments as necessary. For instance, there are individuals having issues with the case of Insulin. I'll strongly urge that these people shouldn’t really choose extended anabolic fasting. Because these individuals may add a little more carbs or healthy sugar sources to fuel their bodies without sacrificing muscle gain. Read: How To Prevent Breast Cancer Besides abiding by a diet plan, you could go for a meal that can assist you to hasten the bodybuilding process. I'm referring to food that can, however, improve the balance of human growth hormone and testosterone. These hormones are crucial in building and maintaining lean muscle mass. You may also enhance your health regimen the more by consuming natural supplements or an anabolic supplement. Meanwhile, you have to be sure to cautiously check the bodybuilding supplement you’re plotting to purchase – pay focus to any contraindications.

Conclusion

Moderation in all things is the best ethical principle. I urge that you moderately go on anabolic fasting. Because while you are fasting or if you’re under a hypocaloric diet, extreme precautions produce quick responses. Unfortunately, these responses might come with serious implications or consequences. As you aim at going on this, kindly see your personal doctor for better clarification and recommendations, because he understands your body system better than you do, at times. Kindly share! Read the full article

[jafayafa-blog]

Experts Say Chocolate And Red Wine Could Be The Secret To Beating Wrinkles

Regardless of whether politicians want to admit it, climate change is real, and Ralph fought againsto Address its effects for years. As a state senator, Ralph has brought in legislation to create a Coastal Wetlands Task Force to study how coastal communities are doing. Virginia's estates can prepare for the effects of climate change. Today, Ralph is part of the Governor's Climate Change Commission, which is charged with recommending ways to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Ralph is committed to fighting air pollution for the benefit of our natural resources, but also, as a pediatrician, to protect public health against respiratory diseases and chronic lung diseases, like childhood asthma, exacerbated by air pollution. In the 1980s, Virginia and our country were facing a crisis of public health - the crack epidemic. Unfortunately, instead of caring for those who suffer from dependence, our nation has blamed its victims. We can not repeat this mistake. Currently, three Virginians die each day from an accidental overdose, and in 2016, 1,133 Virginians died of opioid overdoses. During her tenure as lieutenant governor, Virginia increased access to naloxone, the drug needed to counteract the effects of opioid overdose. Ralph believes we need to continue to expand access to new addiction treatment options and drug treatment courts. Ralph will use his medical expertise to lead on addiction and addiction. Ralph Northam is a champion of women's health - I saw it five years ago, 7 years ago, the ACA was signed. Today, we must make sure that the Republicans do not disregard it. I am a proud product of the Virginia Public Schools - and I will fight for them as governor. Want to lose weight, use new natural remedies or recipes, or become stronger? There are currently 859 users online. 3 members and 856 guests. The maximum number of users online was 1 944 at 18:21 on 10-16-2016. A reliable source of information, news and research findings on women's health from Women's College Hospital. Research finds antidepressant use in non-autism related pregnancy in children Women who need treatment for depression or anxiety during pregnancy may find insurance in a new study. The new research found no increased risk of autism associated with the use of antidepressant medication during pregnancy. The detection of cancer of the colon is the key to early detectionThe survival rate for colon cancer is very high - 90% - when detected Early. This is why screening is so important: the goal is to find cancer while it is still in its infancy, when the treatment is very successful. Woman's Day participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means that Woman's Day receives commissions on purchases made through our links to retailer sites. They are both a stickler to veto a certain something at the meal table. Improve Your Sweet Weekend Bride With This New Vegan Treatment This comprehensive guide to tracking your poop habits can show some red flags. Because you know that you are always hungry before lunch. Beautiful, talented but you can not stop me from wanting to be her friend ... Create your own fitness retreat at home and burn 7,000 calories in one weekend Skin expert, Dr. Jonquille Chantrey at © lucid the mystery of chin acne once and for all Your go-to habits could actually keep you awake.  It was a slow process but the rewards are for the long run.  How Strictly Star feeds its intense training regime - Dominoes included. Yes, this little multitasking can be used to fight a lot of everyday problems. How to know when gas and diarrhea are more than just a nuisance. Struggling to know how to comfortSomeone with anxiety? Here are some tips for avoiding the fitness regime that gave Gemma Atkinson the shape of his life in time for Strictly Come Dancing Keep the beating heart and knee strap in your locker Model Ashley Graham spoke out against more humiliation than she received on Instagram It's never too early to start planning for the weekend. Nutritional Microwave Meals for Darker Evenings Is the secret of burning fat to weight loss or a complete scam? Nutritionists Reveal Five Food Truths to Facilitate Weight Loss Maya Henry Says That Eating Smaller Portions and Finding Coaching Sessions That Hold Her Responsible Made All the Difference ence. Suffer 50,000 people in the UK and many are undiagnosed. Yes, you can put on weight while eating an herbal diet. Former TOWIE star Lydia Bright adores her body - enough to be naked for women's health - here's how she stays in shape This month is dedicated to food rewards and we've found the best meal when you are simple. lost 4 stones and stop the yo-yo regimes for good. Your hormones are not the only thing that gives you stains All you want to know Deliciously Ella - Revealed You finally got your head on probiotics? Up next: Prebiotics. Strictly Tyronne Brennand's personal trainer shares what she does every week to build her strong, lean form. Love it or try it out, you probably know someone who wants it ... The search reveals what is your best snack at 11am. Sorry, you're about to rethink your entire weekend. The most popular thing on the festive Starbucks menu is back - should you drink a Pumpkin Spice Latte? The most common STD is now the one you can get at the gym. Because chocolate is protected for your macros, is not it?

[pickyperkypenguin]

of mushrooms and recklessness

I ate a mushroom today.

You see, I’m from a mycophilic kind of country, so it’s a pretty normal thing, ingrained deeply in our cuisine, especially when it’s season for them and I like mushrooms. They taste great and they make a very good ingredient.

We have lots of kinds of mushrooms here, and lots of names for them. I always feel so emptyhanded, when I have to reiterate to Latin, when there is no equivalent common name for a particular mushroom in English. Oh, those mycophobes (please, imagine this said with Bobby Farell’s voice, the same way he speaks at the end of ‘Rasputin’)

But, back to the mushrooms eating – they’re a food not worth sparing a thought when they’re champignons. Grown (hah, and I’m already missing a word covering ‘the place where champignons are grown by people in a controlled environment’, pieczarkarnia) on a mushroom farm, they are as safe as they’re bland. I can eat them and not even think of Caesar or shamans of Syberia.

But then I’m sometimes offered handpicked mushrooms, and I usually stop to think. Do I know if the person who picked them knew their skill? Do I trust them and my fate today? Do I trust fate at all, because even the most experienced (and another word missing, grzybiarz, plural: grzybiarze) people who pick mushrooms are sometimes wrong, and sometimes it’s just bad luck, or the mimicry and similitude especially intense that day? You never know. And so you sometimes trust, like me, or don’t trust at all, like my mother (funny thing that it’s the only thing we’re completely reversed in the putting trust matter).

Sometimes, though, it’s not really your friend or family who offer you this autumnal gift – sometimes it’s just you who saw giant caps of parasol mushroom (kania, a homophone of milvus milvus or milvus migrans, apparently called red kite and black kite. Funny it’s also a homophone in English too) in your favourite greengrocer, and, unfortunately, forgot to ask where did they come from.

Were they picked in the forest? Were they grown on a mushroom farm? Do you even grow a parasol mushroom on a farm?

A note on a margin – how nice that parasol mushroom does have a name here. Also, the answer to the question above is: no, there are only two kinds of farms, for champignons and pleurotus, or boczniak as we call it. Boczniaki are super tasty and I love them especially.

Yesterday I was so full of energy that I made a soup, a batch of ginger ale, and baked a pie – all in a span of one afternoon, right after coming from my internship hours full of sending emails, running to the post and doing an exhibition inventory in a dark basement, and after that eating some brief meal at home and grocery shopping. So, after that, things couldn’t go to waste, ‘cause some vegetables are just not made for laying around too long, also I would like to eat sometimes, so cooking it was. I was a bit tired after all that, and I didn’t really spare much thought on how I did not ask the lady at the greengrocer where the hell those mushrooms came from.

So, that day went around without me caring about a single mushroom (also because it came out I didn’t have yeast nor sourdough starter, so I had to cease my plans that involved making some savoury pastries with champignons, onion and meat inside them, on top of all the cooking I done that day). The next day, though, which is today, to be precise, my eyes spotted two big caps of parasol mushrooms that were laying on the kitchen counter since yesterday, and I was immediately enlightened with a vision of them fried like cutlets. It’s a traditional way of preparing kanie here. Well, here as regional here, I’m pretty sure Czechs and Slovaks would prepare them the same way.

I did as I thought, and I took a first couple of bites of my deliciously looking mushroom posing as a cutlet – and I felt it tasted bitter.

Now, after all that, I read somewhere that it can happen after frying, particularly if it was an older mushroom – but then I was aware of two things: that either I prepared it wrong (which isn’t exactly correct, but I was indeed not aware that the preparation can make it bitter and that the cap I tasted was probably older, so, this assumption is much more correct) and that the lore passed by XIX century polish villagers states that bitter mushrooms are poisonous.

Now hold on a second, while I will explain: there are two kinds of my reactions to basically everything, one when I have sufficient knowledge or information, and the one when I don’t. It was the second version this time, I have never handpicked a mushroom in my life except for some puffballs growing in my backyard when I was a kid. My practical knowledge of mushrooms is exceptionally scarce. I have no idea if I would be able to identify correctly a fungus in the wild, or in the less–wild of my kitchen. I had also been blissfully submerged in thoughts and daydreams when I was preparing my parasols for cooking and my observation  of their appearance was perfunctory at best.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a pretty good photographic memory, and I can usually recall a pretty detailed visual image of things I’ve seen, even if not focused on remembering them. But when you’re trying to identify anything by its looks, it’s pretty important to catch every detail. Especially when it’s so easy to mistake between species and end up eating the very wrong one.

Why had I panicked so fast? Well, as I said, I had no experience nor sufficient data to extrapolate and reach any valid conclusion on whether or not the thing I was eating was any good, and all I had in my head were scraps of oral tradition. And as reliable and rich with experience of generations as it is, it has its moments of rapid clashing with modern knowledge. And medicine.

Of course, I immediately googled what kania can visually resemble and what can it be mistaken with, and I was just about punched in the face, because it can be – by some – mistaken with not only amanita pantherina (panther cap), chlorophyllum rhacodes/macroleptiota rhacodes (shaggy parasol), but also lepiota especially helveola and chlorophyllum molybdites (green spored parasol), and if you’re unobservant enough, with amanita phalloides (death cap).

The only one among them that is mostly just diarrhoea inducing is the shaggy parasol, and even this one is not entirely safe. The rest...? Let’s say, there was a reason why a dish made of amanita caesarea with some addition of its less friendly cousins sneaked in was a good way for ancient Romans to, ahem, get rid of their chosen fellows that hindered their businesses. And why Henry Winter was so bent on having a mushroom stew for dinner with Bunny Corcoran.

Seriously, I went from happily chewing on a mushroom cutlet to panicking about possible poisoning in about three and a quarter seconds.

After I looked and compared carefully the mental image of not yet coated in egg and breadcrumbs cap of my supposed parasol mushroom with the ominous images from the Internet, I came to a conclusion, that it is, most likely, a goddamn honest and innocent kania.

But I was not about to eat any more of it. I was too scared, that perhaps I’m wrong. As much as I hate, literally hate, to throw out any food (again, a culture thing and an uprising thing, I guess. When I compare how much more some western nations are throwing out food, I feel like I’m getting hives, cold and a rash all at once just from looking at it. One does not throw out food, unless it’s spoiled. Then you can. And better don’t let it spoil, do something with it before. Sorry, rant over) I just had to throw out on a compost pile my perfectly fine two fried parasol mushrooms. I couldn’t let my father eat it, just in case, my mother wouldn’t anyway, so, safe from that angle, and I went through too much nerves over those stupid caps. At least they weren’t overly pricey.

I have also preventively made some steps to be sure I won’t get a poisoning from all this, and let me just say, it really wasn’t pleasant. I vomit very rarely, even after excessive drinking – there were literally three of those occasions in my life and I remember every single one in a painful detail – so it’s not the favourite way for my body of getting rid of toxins, and as it comes out, despite having an upchuck reflex, it is not so easy for me to provoke actual results. Also, I tend to feel like I already died after.

But I did what I had to, and went on with my day, promising myself to stick to black tea till tomorrow. Well, maybe I will eat something for supper, I’ll see.

Why am I even talking about this?

Well, except for the want of sharing a NEar dEAth EXPERIENcE!!!11! and talking about mushrooms, which I wanted to talk about for some time, it was one of the situations when I remembered again, that I kind of want to live.

Sometimes I’m in such a floaty thinking places, where all borders and world itself doesn’t even seem real, everything is fluid and kind of bad, and kind of boring, kind of not worth anything and especially not suffering, and I can’t really remember what I was even doing here, on this earth? Was I having fun? Was I enjoying something? Was I living, really? What were my interests? Did I had any goals? Was I just drifting through space? Am I an entity with a meaning or am I a speckle that nobody would notice, if not for obvious consequences of my existing?

I don’t think of suicide. Never did, never want to. I was just thinking of not existing, and not as a thing that I would want to actually happen to me. Those are very abstract thoughts for me, those of nonexistence, more of concepts, and they occur only when I’m not sure if I am, well, whatever I am, and when I’m letting my thoughts loose and free to roam. They’re more academical in nature.

What is more personal in them, is this – I never wanted to live a ‘meaningful’ life. I can fully accept, that life might not have have any meaning (or it can, I don’t particularly care). Or that it might be incomprehensible for me. Or that everybody makes the meaning of their life, and that meaning belongs to us, the entirety of us, our identities with all our bindings and horizons that allow us constructing our visions – and that this is the way we can give the meaning to our life.

All those concepts I find sound and valid. All possible, and more of them. I just don’t really have the universal or objective truth as a valid concept in my world view. So I don’t have to believe in any of them, and I don’t have to choose. They’re all tales we spin for ourselves, or that are spun for us. Co–spinning would be a more correct term for this, I think.

The older I’m getting, the more choices I’m having – or the more responsible for them I become – I’m starting to get, not intellectually, but in my heart, the fact, that I can literally do anything I want in and with my life. With some limitations and consequences, of course, but you get the gist.

I wasn’t so sure of that before. Theoretically, I knew, but having less responsibility for myself (It was a different kind of burden, when I was trying more to appeal or appease someone who held my responsibility for me than to actually bear that responsibility) I had less choices to make. That’s the correlation, that’s the thing I’m discovering now.

So, I felt like that, even before, that I wasn’t sure if I was living. I didn’t really had a lot of situations to feel it, living the privileged and, let’s not be afraid of that word, sheltered life I did, that was reinforced with my tendency to take as little risk as it is always possible. I just didn’t, and still I don’t, make rash choices. I think all things through and through. I plan, I analyse, I extrapolate. I beware all potential dangers, I hate surprises.

I’m not spontaneous. The last spontaneous thing I did was buying a bunch of radishes on sale, even though I didn’t plan to. What a wild life.

When I had my mandatory field practices back in the first and second year of my studies, I was putting myself in a different mode – open to everything, not planning much, simply because I wasn’t able to, mostly. It was not depending on me. It was all dictated by my surroundings, opportunities and situations. I had to deal with it, there was no other way around.

And I managed. Quite well, I’d say.

I remember one of those field practices: it was an abhorrently hot July, with weather enhanced additionally by the proximity of power station, notabene influencing the whole ecosystem it was built into. The asphalt was a pan, and I was walking on it, thinking if it was possible for the soles of my shoes to be melted by the contact with the almost liquid black.

I was marching on the side of the road to the next village – there were no other methods of transportation, unless one had a bike or a car. I had neither. I was in this out–of–touch state, when my mind bored to the bone with the long walk and uneventful landscape was doing whatever it wanted, and my emotional state back then was leaving much to desire, too. I was thinking of not existing again, of all its possible outcomes and consequences, in a remote, abstract way – when I suddenly noticed I was walking a viaduct without any sort of pavement, not really even a footpath. I think I missed the road sign of ‘no pedestrians allowed’, because I was so disengaged and distracted.

There were a lot of cars. Thankfully no police, though.

Then, after the string of quite fast moving cars came a string of about three or four trucks.

You don’t really think about how big a truck is in your daily life, or just how monstrous is the idea of a puny human piloting a beast made of metal and capable of killing you by accident.

I think life was on my side that day, and I was not even honked at, but I was awfully close to more–than–five ton trucks and the sheer wind, the movement of air induced by them that sort of, well, not pushed, but encouraged my body to get closer to the railing, was enough to make me vividly aware how fragile my life is, and how easily would it be not exist by pure chance.

In that same moment, I’ve had another thought.

I wanted to live, definitely. I wanted to keep my existence on this earth, as I was most certainly not done.

I didn’t really know what I wasn’t done with, or when I would supposed to be accomplished and if after that it would be acceptable to go – I just knew I needed more time to do stuff here.

Right now I’m on the path, hopefully, of figuring out what is that I actually want to do. Maybe it will somehow happen. I don’t know, I’m just so happy to know that I want to accomplish something. That I want to do something. I wasn’t really sure before, and I’m sometimes not sure now, but most of the time I feel like it would actually change me somehow – which is actually what this whole thing is about, a proof that I exist.

I hope, too, that I will find the will, the power, the willpower for it, for finding and pursuing and carrying on, and for the results – or a graceful acceptance of re-evaluation of my goals during the way, if I find it necessary.

I got yelled at by my friend at Monday, and I think he wanted to tell me about some of those things too. That it’s not about some kind of worthiness, that you can just do things. And that they have an outcome and an impact. That it can be felt.

Speaking of feeling, I felt very cared for, by the way, thanks to that yelling, because that’s how my friend shows he cares – if he finds a person worth being annoyed with, it is because he wants the person to not fucking suck and self-sabotage, as he sees their inherent value as much more. Aggressive caring sometimes really works on me, here mostly because his yelling was very constructive and I could draw useful conclusions from it.

So, concluding all that I said here: if my hitherto way of careful living did not bring me much, perhaps a change would be good, even though it won’t be easy at all, and pretty sure it’ll be painful in some ways, and that I will have to overcome a lot of my habits and maybe even things that lay deep in my personality. Basically, that some recklessness, spontaneity and adrenaline high tasks would be healthy for me, probably. Oh dear.

Maybe if I find the courage for the openness, for not being ashamed of who I am as a person, and instead I will hold my ground and make my own mistakes, decide on some things, I will feel better. This way, I will be able to own those things, and make myself –– an author.

[twocoursemeal-blog]

TCM Eats: Taiwan Cafe

Taiwan Cafe (Chinatown)

We’re lucky enough to live in a city where there isn’t just *a* Taiwanese restaurant, but where you can even have not just one, but multiple *favorite* Taiwanese restaurants. Today, dear readers, we visit one of those favorites: Taiwan Cafe. You’ll never guess whether we ordered just the right amount of food this time!

We ate (too much):

Fried Taiwanese Style Pork Chop over Rice

Taiwan Style Sauteed Noodles with Pork and Vegetables

Roast Beef Scallion Pancakes

Matt’s Thoughts:

I had never been to Taiwan Cafe before, despite it being one of Angela’s favorite places in Chinatown. One warm evening during a particularly late work night for her, I suggested we meet up for dinner somewhere nearby, and Taiwan Cafe fit the bill.

When we say hole-in-the-wall, we mean it - Angela almost didn’t find it on the first go around! It’s tucked away inauspiciously on a small, quiet side street slightly away from the main crush of Chinatown central. We stepped up the stairs, opened the doors, and in classic “this food is gonna be delicious” fashion, were slammed with a wave of delicious smells. Mouths water, we walked in and were quickly seated.

In a move that will probably surprise you, Angela and I over ordered. Please believe me when I say that we tried not to. We tried hard. You will not be reading about at least two other things that just barely stayed on the chopping block. However, since leftovers are still a real thing, I can’t be too mad about it (this time, I was the lucky beneficiary of all of them).

A quick word about the decor - this place is smallish, relatively cramped, and smells fantastic. The servers are always traveling by, just barely not slamming into you, loaded with plates of food you wish you could be eating. I’ll take it over a more spacious place any day. We were seated right next to their two fish tanks, one with lobsters, and one with two large and hilarious tilapia (one kept on bullying the other by aggressively bumping into it and knocking it onto its side), so we were kept amused by our fishy dining companions. Of course, you don’t always have the option to eat your dining companions, but in this case, things were different (we opted not to this time, but stay tuned - eventually our love of seafood is bound to prevail).

Our pork chop came out first, glistening in oil and giving off a fantastic porky umami scent. Once it was reliably cool enough not to sear off the skin in my mouth, I took a bite. Unsurprisingly, it was delicious. Very fatty, but also extremely flavorful. The pork had been coated in a seasoning sauce that helped to cut through some of the oil. A similar star of the show was the rice that had been catching all of said oil. This stuff was magical, and if I could order a bowl of just pork-oil-rice, believe me, I would.

As we were reveling in fried pig, our second order came out - scallion pancake with roast beef. I had never had this magical mix before: a scallion pancake lightly fried, rolled up with thin slices of Taiwanese roast beef, cilantro, scallions, and what tasted like a hoisin-based spread. The idea here was phenomenal, and the food itself was also excellent, but I felt like it suffered just a little bit from two things: the beef was chewy enough in some bites that it was hard not to tear out the entire piece, and also that the scallion pancake itself was a little bland and underdone. I’m not really sure how, logistically, you’d take a classic scallion pancake and use it in this preparation, but I was hoping for something a little closer, and maintain that it would have been delicious. Still, I would absolutely get this item again here or at another place.

Angela and I, foolishly, thought that this wouldn’t quite be enough, so we placed an order for what we thought would be a small dish of stir fried noodles with pork. What we got instead was a very large dish of stir fried noodles with pork. The noodles came sauced in what appeared to be a sort of light gravy, with thin strips of pork and other veggies mixed in. Angela wasn’t the biggest fan of these, and described them as bland. I, on the other hand, was a big fan of them, and described them as delicate. Different strokes. For me, the noodles had a noticeable wok-fired smokey flavor that wasn’t hidden by a strong sauce. This flavor married the richness of the pork and the sauced noodles well, and kept me interested enough to go back for more bites (even though I was extremely full). These noodles constituted most of my leftovers, and they held up extremely well upon reheating. They’d be a great dish to share with a large group, if you’re looking for something to fill that niche.

I was glad to have finally gotten to Taiwan Cafe! The food was just as good as Angela had described, and remarkably cheap to boot. Though the menu was wildly intimidating (by far one of the largest I’d ever seen), I think you could reasonably close your eyes, point somewhere, and end up happy with the result (please don’t try this and then yell at me if you get something you don’t like). If you’re looking for a new spot to try in Chinatown, you could do a lot worse than giving Taiwan Cafe a visit.

Angela’s Thoughts:

As Matt mentioned, Taiwan Cafe is an old favorite of mine. Late hours, cheap prices, large family-style portions, and proximity to school made them a frequent stop; I can recall many a time when I stopped in to pick up their delicious $5 pork chop rice plate (no longer $5, unfortunately). I recommend it almost universally when friends are looking for Chinatown dining locations; I’ve even dragged my coworkers there for a lab lunch before (it, like many Chinatown restaurants, is very good for groups)! Taiwan Cafe is great, and you can’t really tell me otherwise... which is why I was particularly afraid of the TCM curse -- when I finally get around to reviewing one of my faves, and it absolutely sucks (see our JM Curley review for the best example of this phenomenon). Thankfully, Taiwan Cafe was more or less as consistent as ever.

Taiwan Cafe is a small place with a relatively nondescript storefront. I frequently find myself forgetting where it is on the narrow, winding streets of Boston’s Chinatown. During this visit, we walked in on the late end of the dinner rush on a Tuesday, and were lucky to be immediately seated next to the fish tank, which, on this day, housed a douchebag fish who terrorized its sole tankmate throughout our entire meal. We took snapchats of their antics (and contemplated eating douchefish, to relieve the bullied fish), and it ended up being pretty great entertainment.

I’ve had quite a few things from Taiwan Cafe’s large menu, which is known for its noodle soups and rice plates. I, myself, always gravitate back to two favorites: the fried salt and pepper pork chops and the Szechuan fish. You may have noticed in our other reviews of Chinese restaurants that I love Szechuan or spicy chilli-flavored preparations of white fish, and Taiwan Cafe’s (large) rendition is no exception. If you go, you should order it. Next time I go, I will order it, too. Buttt… we didn’t order it on this visit.

Instead, we ordered the fried pork chop rice plate (now $7.50 ;_;) and the Taiwan-style noodles along with an order of the roast beef scallion pancakes. I decided to branch out a bit, with two dishes I’ve never had, to make the review more interesting (again, see JM Curley -- I never learn).

The fried pork chop rice plate comes with a few pieces of bone-in salt and pepper fried pork chops, a marinated tea egg, and some sort of vegetable (usually cabbage), all over ground pork rice. The portion we received was larger than I remembered getting in my $5 carryout boxes; maybe the portion increased along with the price, or perhaps the in-restaurant portions are always larger. Either way, I was happy to see more food than I was expecting, especially since it’s one of my favorite Taiwan Cafe dishes.

As for the taste, they were as good as I remember, but not quite as savory. I recall them having a saltier taste, but this time, they had a slight sweetness that counterbalanced some of the innate saltiness of the pork. The chops were, as always, beautifully fried and rich with fat. They were chopped into more-or-less bite sized pieces, and the serving of pork was generous. The green sides were boiled cabbage (which I gobbled up, it served as an excellent palate cleanser), and bitter chopped mustard greens (which were also delicious, and helped cut through the grease). The pork rice is one of my favorite parts of the place, and the ground pork rice is always tastier than it has any business being. It’s so simple, but such a wonderful complement to the heavier fried pork. Despite the excellence of everything else on the plate, the star of the show for me is always the marinated tea egg. They always come out a beautifully marbled brown color, and they take on such an amazing umami taste. I love how flavorful and enriching a simple boiled egg is for the composition of the dish. I could eat an entire bowl of them, and Matt’s dislike of firm egg yolks means that I’ll always get to eat the whole thing!

For all the times I’ve been to Taiwan Cafe, and despite my deep love of all things scallion pancake, I’ve never tried the roast beef scallion pancakes. They are a crowd favorite, and anytime you go, you will see *at least* one or two tables eating them. To be honest, I didn’t like them much. The limp, slightly-too-greasy scallion pancakes were slathered in a thick, slightly-too-sweet hoisin-based sauce, with slices of cold, slightly-too-dry roast beef and cilantro wrapped inside. The presentation was beautiful, but the flavors together didn’t quite work for me; the cloying hoisin spread and the sharpness of the cilantro clashed on my palate. Still, there has to be some reason that *everyone* likes these so much; perhaps I’m the outlier? They were a miss for me, and I would pass on them in the future.

Our last dish was the Taiwan-style sauteed noodles with pork. Once they showed up, it sunk in how much we’d over-ordered, and I was definitely hitting the wall before I even tasted them. Fortunately, after trying a bit, I didn’t regret the fact that I was already full. This was, in my opinion, a situation where quantity won out over quality. The noodles were a little too wet and oily, and were also bland, to my recollection. I’m writing this about a week and a half later, and I can’t recall anything positive or notable about those noodles, besides the fact that there were a lot of them, and I didn’t need to eat more than one bite. Fortunately, Matt liked them, and took them all home. I know for a fact that there are better items on Taiwan Cafe’s menu, and I’d encourage you to find those instead of ordering these noodles (unless Matt’s description of the dish has really hooked you).

After the meal, I was a bit conflicted. We’d ordered one dish that I knew I’d love, but both of the new things we tried, I wouldn’t order again. However, I’m (mostly) willing to chalk that up to daily variation, personal preference, and the curse of having a huge restaurant menu, since Matt liked everything, and I trust his palate. I’ll continue recommending Taiwan Cafe to people, and as long as the Szechuan fish and fried pork chops stay delicious, Taiwan Cafe will remain one of my favorites.

Overall:

We agree that based on our reviews, we think you’ll really enjoy Taiwan Cafe. At some level, you may have to be willing to get a little bit adventurous to find the really delicious stuff, but who cares when you’re paying <$10 for most dishes? Go with a group (or with a friend who’s got a complementary palate), and try a few things that sound good! Alternatively, don’t order anything until you’ve seen a few dishes go by, and then ask about and order what *looks* good. That’s the next level strat… probably.

We give Taiwan Cafe 3?? gigantic noodle dishes out of 5.

Authors’ Note: Our rating here is an odd one - we (mostly) really enjoyed our food, but for some reason we just can’t put our fingers on, neither of us is at a 4. Go figure. Fortunately, this is our food blog, so we can do what we want.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE NEW VENTURE CAPITAL SQUEEZE

Distraction seeks you out. And yet all those people have to be the next generation. They're helpful in doing deals and arranging introductions, and some trains of thought just peter out.1 Then they heard a rival VC firm was also interested. We also see signs of a separation between founders and investors tend to take these for granted.2 I think the main reason to prefer a series A round, the partner whose deal it is takes a seat on the startup's board. A lot of the money in VC funds comes from their endowments.3 They didn't know.4 You should only write about things you've thought about a lot, will probably surprise most readers. Maybe they'll listen to one of the best things about working for a startup is grim and hard than have founders go into it expecting it to be? It's like telling the truth. I worry about the power Apple could have with this force behind them.

If parents will let undergraduates study. The reason tablets are going to get replaced. One of the differences between big companies and startups is that you have to seem confident, and you think Oh my God, they know. Outside writers tend to supply editorials of the defend-a-position variety, which make a beeline toward a rousing and foreordained conclusion. Even people who had nothing to gain went out of their garage in Switzerland, the old lady next door would report them to the end.5 Civil liberties make countries rich. You can tell they won't make investments for their fund that they might be willing to make themselves as angels.

At the moment, even the smartest students leave school thinking they have to deal with this phenomenon. And meetings are the main mechanism for taking up the slack. This amounts to asking what I got wrong, things that seem like bragging, flames, digressions, stretches of awkward prose, and unnecessary words.6 Imagine if we were visited by aliens. As companies grow they invariably get more such checks, either in response to disasters they've suffered, or probably more often by hiring people from bigger companies who bring with them customs for protecting against new types of disasters. Some days I'd wake up, get a million hits an hour on your servers. Writing doesn't just communicate ideas; it generates them. Google turned out to be. I went to work for them. This is an instance of a very important meta-trend, one that Y Combinator itself has been based on from the beginning. The most obvious difference between real essays and the things one has to write in school were even connected to what I was doing exactly the same thing. Another thing blogging and open source software is more reliable precisely because it's open source; anyone can find mistakes.

In fact they were more law schools. One founder said this should be your approach to all programming, not just startups, and I choose the next topic with that in mind. When you're trying to do in the 90s. Most don't try to sound impressive; don't hesitate to change the idea. Revealingly, the same term was used for both products and information: there were distribution channels, and TV and radio channels. On the Internet, SMTP email, HTTP the web, and they pay it to the employee in the hope that the programmer he'll hire is Bill Gates—kind of backward, as the name implies, is dynamic: you don't know what the laws are and don't have time to find out. Like steroids, these sudden huge investments can do more harm than good.7 Richard Feynman used to amuse himself by breaking into safes at Los Alamos. The kind of people who could afford to go were VCs and people from big companies.8 So maybe it would be a pain to fund with grants and donations. You can't expect employers to have some kind of paternal obligation that isn't there in transactions between equals.

An essay is something you write in school is that a real essay, there's always a chance you'll hit a dead end. In this case the exploding termsheet was not or not only a tactic to pressure the startup. Most companies that VCs invest in would never have made it that far if angels hadn't invested first. This isn't just amusing; it would be a pain to fund with grants and donations. It seems probable that investors have till now on average been overcontrolling their portfolio companies. The method of ensuring quality is also the essence of what scholars did then, it became clear that the Internet is an open platform. I think a society in which people can do and say what they want when they want it, and c they invest at a point where the stream is broader. Surely that's mere prudence? And in the startup world.

The US has never been so poor as some countries are now.9 Unfortunately the only industry they care enough about so far is not very long. Whatever help investors give a startup tends to be underestimated. When I realized this when I started writing the essay, and even blogging in some cases, are so important, why do you need to make technology, and all the other people will move. But search traffic is worth more. That's different from the way things felt in 2001.10 0 mean anything more than the valuation of our entire company. But they're wrong. I bet they got a good deal on it. They can usually only summon up the activation energy to start a startup by just writing code. It did serve some purposes: reading a foreign language was difficult, and thus taught discipline, or at least, a thesis was a position one took and the dissertation was the argument by which one defended it.

Notes

Monk, Ray, Ludwig Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley. Experienced investors know about this trick merely forces you to take over the course of the founders chose?

If a man has good corn or wood, or it would take Abelson and Sussman's quote a step later in the biggest company of all tend to say because most of his professors did in salary. Articles of this essay began by talking about art, they did it. They may play some behind the scenes role in IPOs, which you are.

This essay was written before Firefox. A related trick is to let yourself feel it mid-sentence, but he refused because a there was near zero crossover.

Wave is a meaningful idea for human audiences. That can be done at a critical period. If this is the kind of people are magnified by the PR firm.

It would have a connection with Aristotle, but Javascript now works. The problem in high school textbooks.

On the other direction.

Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the cachet that term had. The word boss is derived from Delicious/popular.

And you can talk about humans being meant or designed to live inexpensively as their companies took off? Everything is a down round, that you never know with bottlenecks, I'm not saying that's all prep schools is to show growth graphs at either stage, investors treat them differently. I'm speaking here of IT startups; in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Oxford University Press, 1983.

Not only do they learn that nobody wants what they said, and are paid a flat rate regardless of how to achieve wisdom is that the investments that generate the highest price paid for a block or so you could beat the death spiral by buying politicians. In practice sufficiently expert doesn't require one to be a problem that I know what they built, they mean that's how they choose between great people to endure hardships, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them.

I don't think it's confusion or lack of movement between companies was as a company grew at 1% a week for 19 years, but they hate hypertension. It's conceivable that intellectual centers like Cambridge will one day have an edge over Silicon Valley like the increase in economic inequality start to shift the military leftward. What you're looking for initially is not to stuff them with comments. A great programmer is infinitely more valuable, and there was a bad idea the way to answer the question is to say, ending up on the summer of 1914 as if they'd like it that the meaning of distribution.

[minhthangcoi9993-blog]

Review Game Vampyr

With a fresh and genuine take on the familiar supernatural mythology, Vampyr’s bold RPG ambition is to tempt you into eating your own quest givers. Beguiling the citizens of London and suffering the consequences of quenching your terrible thirst sets up some big choices that generally pay off, though its combat doesn’t quite have the bite needed to force you out of your comfort zone and into the darker, morally gray areas it so clearly wants you to live in.

Where Vampyr sets itself apart is in its excellent recreation of London during the first World War and in the throes of the Spanish Flu epidemic. It’s a gloomy, somber city, explorable through snaking alleyways, cobblestone courtyards, dingy sewers, and expansive buildings that combine with the moody string-heavy soundtrack to create a dense, sad atmosphere of a city on the edge.

The great sense of contrast throughout Vampyr is a focused theme. You’ll see the posh and proper etiquette of early 1900s English aristocracy juxtaposed with the ugly, seedy underbelly of the city. Even our protagonist, physician and newly turned vampire Dr. Jonathan Reid himself, reflects this conflict, as his modern-man-of-science persona clashes with the mysticism of his newfound supernatural world. It all complicates the experience in ways I found refreshing.

That setting is reinforced through the many, many authentic characters. And there are dozens of them spread throughout the distinct districts of London, each with so much to say that if you’re looking to investigate each person and solve all their problems and side quests, you’ll be wandering through forests of branching dialog trees with hours of voiced conversation.

And if, like me, you find it easy to soak in this melting pot of society, science, and the supernatural, you’ll be glad to know that each of these characters are generally well-written and performed and that they only occasionally cross the line into hokey. Which is both a surprise and a relief, considering Vampyr leans hard into its heady vampire lore that without appropriate delivery it could’ve come off as downright goofy. It doesn’t stop at the accepted tropes of the subject like wooden stakes and garlic but instead aims for the moon, pulling inspiration from landmark moments of history, mythology, famous figures, and much more to weave a vampire conspiracy theory with its tendrils burrowed throughout history.

Vampyr’s story is generally engaging thanks to its grounded approach, setting the stage with modest, understandable stakes before going off the deep end. It starts small as our reluctant hero, Dr. Reid, grapples with his new vampiric condition. As a man of science, he’s a walking mockery of his own beliefs, and he only gradually begins to accept the gravity of his situation. Much of the early game mirrors that journey, with quests built around using your vampire senses to locate characters and resolving pedestrian issues like infidelity, a lost heirloom, or a gang war, and peppering it with the ugly racism, sexism, classism, and xenophobia of the time period. The only blemish on these citizens is the obvious discrepancy in animation qualities between the lead characters and the minor ones, with poor mouth syncing being the most obvious sign.

Feast and Famine

The citizen system that binds all these characters together is a highlight of Vampyr. Because you can choose to mesmerize and feed on just about everyone you meet, characters are more than just side quest givers and information pinatas. As you talk with them you’ll uncover their secrets and, in the process, improve the quality of their blood, giving you more experience when you finally decide to sink your teeth in. If you choose to at all, that is. The choice to abstain from fresh blood is there, and I found myself avoiding it because Dr. Reid seems so opposed to giving in to the temptation that I felt I owed it to his character.

Play now Dynamons World

Stardew Valley Catfish  

But in a deliciously morbid way, talking with people and solving their problems is kind of like preparing your meals. The idea is that when you’re not strong enough and need a quick boost, you consume someone to quickly gain a healthy chunk of experience at the cost of permanently losing any information or quests they’ve yet to give you – and taking on more of a monstrous appearance yourself. That decision is given even more weight by the fact that Vampyr’s save system doesn’t allow you to reload to a previous save to undo a choice – something the load screen tips make clear is a conscious decision by the developers.

In a deliciously morbid way, talking with people is like preparing your meals.

The problem with this in practice is that I never found combat difficult enough to make me want to suffer the consequences of feeding on a citizen. Despite the fact that there are some top-shelf garbage-people all over London that the world would probably be better off without, feeding on a citizen damages the stability rating of their district. If that stability drops too low, other citizens living there will start suffering and go missing, and feral monsters will start roaming the streets where they didn’t before. It’s a selfish dilemma: eat for personal power, or abstain for the good of the city. This is Vampyr’s version of a difficulty setting, and you can see how it’s supposed to force you into making a hard decision. But developer Dontnot didn’t balance it aggressively enough, and so I was able to complete my approximately 30-hour playthrough without taking a life, and only died a handful of times.

Low Stakes

The loop of Vampyr’s combat boils down to locking on, dodging around an enemy, and smacking it over and over with a club or sword that you’ve upgraded through a very simple crafting system. Such crude methods are strange for a vampire power fantasy, but in a way, it actually plays back into that theme of duality all over Vampyr.

What’s more interesting is the health, stamina, and blood resources that you’ll want to manage during combat. You expend blood to power your vampiric abilities and stamina to dodge, attack, and stun enemies, so it becomes this interesting dance of dodging, striking, and using blood-based abilities, then stunning and enemy so you can bite it and refill some of your blood, which then recharges your supernatural abilities like healing, turning invisible, or conjuring pools of shadow. There’s a good level of micromanaging these resources during combat, and it works because enemies aren’t just your obstacles, but also your health packs.

Progression in Vampyr is all about being a vampire. As you cobble together the paltry amounts of experience you get for killing enemies and the more respectable amount you get for uncovering dialog hints and solving side missions and quests, you can choose to sleep and evolve your vampire abilities. There’s enough here to branch out into the kind of vampire you want to be, casting bloody spears and freezing an enemies’ blood in place, lunging over great distances and pouncing with devastating claw attacks, or any combination of the dozen-or-so skills you can learn. But experience is scarce if you’re not regularly feeding on citizens, so I found the best investment for my hard-earned experience was to bump up my passive health, stamina, and blood reserves rather than dumping it into those expensive, flashier abilities.

Unfortunately, even with all those unique vampire-afforded abilities – including some devastating ultimate powers that pack a horrific punch – the simple combat loop does start to feel stale sooner than I’d hoped. Fairly early on I found a two-handed club and enough materials to upgrade it through the barebones crafting system, to the point where clubbing things to death was overwhelmingly the most efficient and reliable strategy. I did experiment with all manner of weapons, firearms, and abilities, and while there are some cool combos you can employ, dodging and counter-striking with a heavy weapon remained the best option.

This means most fights boil down to the same experience, and that goes double for the dozen-or-so boss-arena fights throughout the campaign. While they add some interesting mechanics like environmental dangers and otherworldly abilities and certainly ratchet up the pageantry, they lack enough variety to require anything more than just quickly learning their attack patterns before the dodge/counter-striking resumes.

There’s a welcome variety in the enemies of Vampyr, at least. The militaristic vampire hunters, called the Guard of Priwen, send shock troopers and sharpshooters after you, while the feral subsets of vampires, werewolf-like monsters, and full-fledged children of the night begin to appear regularly as the city succumbs to the epidemic.

But the most frustrating obstacles are the frame rate dips, the spontaneous loading screens, and the occasional bugs. Vampyr runs acceptably on the PS4, but dips below the 30-frames-per-second mark regularly when you turn a corner or enter a new area too quickly. While I didn’t find anything game breaking, a few issues with quest markers not updating made progression more difficult than it needed to be, costing me an hour or two of scouring the city for something that should have been made much clearer. These hiccups seem to get worse in the later stages, but they never become more than minor annoyances.

The Verdict

Vampyr is a slow burn of an RPG, taking its time to ramp up its intriguing blend of science and the supernatural in an elaborately gloomy version of London. When it gets going you can see the potential of the way it offers you more power if you consume its interesting citizens. But Vampyr never commits to this idea to the point where I felt I needed to make that sacrifice to succeed in its relatively simple combat, which leaves it feeling toothless and vulnerable to having a lot of its fun sucked away by technical issues, despite its genuinely engaging story.

[jakehglover]

Everything You Need to Know to Grow Snow Peas

By Dr. Mercola

Snow peas aren’t just for Asian dishes. They’re delicious in all kinds of stir-fries with other vegetables, a tasty addition to salads and a crunchy snack all on their own. You can buy snow peas in the refrigerated case of many grocery stores or at farmers markets, but imagine heading out onto your own patio garden or backyard plot to pick handfuls of super-fresh snow peas you planted yourself.

Unlike the little round peas removed from their pods, snow peas (Pisum sativum var. saccharatum) are eaten with the pod intact. They have a crisp, remarkably sweet and satisfying flavor, and both the pods and the seven-or-so peas inside are highly nutritious. However, according to Organic Facts:

“Snow peas don’t have a long shelf life, so after purchasing or picking these peas, you can store them in your refrigerator for two to three days before the quality will begin to diminish. After two to three days, the peas will have less of a crunch, and their slightly sweet flavor will also begin to disappear.”1

What’s the difference between snow peas and other types of peas? As thekitchn.com2 explains, snow peas, snap peas and garden peas are all members of the legume family and all three are climbing plants, but snow peas, aka Chinese pea pods or Holland peas, are flat. Seveur3 notes that they’ve been cultivated since the 1500s. Garden peas, also known as sweet peas or English peas, are firm, round veggies that are removed (“shelled”) before the pod is discarded.

They can be eaten either cooked or raw, but they’re most commonly shelled and frozen. A cross between snow peas and garden peas, snap peas have tough strings that can be removed before they’re eaten, but they’re sweet and crunchy.

Snow peas are a favorite veggie for many gardeners to grow, not just for the fresh flavor and crunchy texture but because they’re an early crop. Like lettuce and cauliflower, snow peas can tolerate cold weather, hence, the reference to snow in the name. You can plant the seeds directly into your garden in the earliest spring plantings. Down to a low of 35 or 40 degrees Fahrenheit, they can even handle a little frost after they’ve started sprouting.

Growing Peas: Easy Peasy

Peas, whatever the variety, are easy to grow, needing little beyond soil made up of an even mix of sand and clay and some mulch as a built-in food. The seeds are basically large, dried peas which are planted to a depth of about twice their diameter. According to the featured video above, peas are a remarkably easy crop to grow:

“Push them into the ground to about 8 millimeters, cover them up, water them and while they’re coming up as baby shoots … I kept an eye on them, kept them watered and kept training them up the trellis. As they get taller and taller, you just want to make sure that the peas keep holding onto the trellis … eventually they’ll latch on.”4

Scientists testing several snow pea varieties found that two types in particular yielded the greatest harvests: Oregon Sugar Pod and a more disease-resistant variety called Oregon Sugar Pod II, both bearing snow peas in 65 to 70 days after being sown. In two locations, OSP and OSP II produced at least 20 percent more than other varieties in yield experimentation.

James Baggett, the Oregon State University breeder responsible for developing the two OSP varieties, said the secret to the bigger yield is that most snow peas produce just one pod at their “growth nodes,” but the two Oregon varieties produce two pods for every node.

The cold weather tolerance of peas also means that the further south gardeners live in the U.S., the sooner they can plant snow pea seeds in the garden, and the sooner they can begin harvesting them. But the cold tolerance on one end of the weather spectrum is just the opposite when the temperature begins soaring upward. According to Rodale’s Organic Life:

“All snow peas stop producing once daytime temperatures begin to exceed 75 degrees F, so if you don’t have 80 or so reliable days of below 75 degree F temps, go with a faster-maturing variety like 'Dwarf White Sugar' or 'Short N' Sweet.' Both begin bearing just 50 days after you sow the seed.”5

Size Matters: Snow Pea Varieties Can Vary

Experts say that the Dwarf White Sugar or Short N’ Sweet varieties may be best for Midwestern gardens because test plantings in those states yield a better harvest compared to other types. In addition, even though these two are smaller, they weighed more per pound than the OSP, which bears 3- to 4-inch-long pods; the pods from Dwarf White Sugar are much more petite at 2 to 2.5 inches in length.

Most snow peas at optimal maturity measure around 4 inches long and three-quarters of an inch across, but two heftier strains can reach 4 and even 5 inches in length: the Mammoth Melting Sugar, which did well in Florida and Alabama, and the Oregon Giant. You can harvest the former in 75 days, and the latter will reach peak size and flavor in just 65 days.

If you live in an area of the U.S. that tends toward dampness and cool temperatures much of the year, you may find that disease-resistant varieties are the way to go when choosing snow pea seeds. If you’ve noticed in past pea-planting that the vines curl but fail to produce pods, or pods are small and tinged with yellow, it may be a malady known as pea enation virus. It’s good to know that if your peas are plagued with powdery mildew on the leaves, stems and pods, the OSP II variety resists both diseases.

Things You Should Know About Peas: Lectins and Pea Protien

Lectins are carbohydrate-binding proteins you’ll find in many plants. Around 30 percent of fresh plant-based foods contain lectins, which attach to specific biological structures as part of the plant’s self-defense mechanism. Unfortunately, some lectins (but not all) can be harmful to people who eat them in large amounts. In small amounts, lectins can provide such health benefits as immunity and inflammation modulation.

Legumes such as black beans, soybeans, lima beans, kidney beans, lentils and grains contain the highest amounts of lectins, but you’ll find them in peas, too. Certain lectins trigger inflammation and may increase your blood viscosity by binding to red blood cells, making them sticky, which can result in abnormal clotting. Lectins can interfere with gene expression and disrupt endocrine function, as well as promote leptin resistance and, in turn, increase your obesity risk.

That being said, peas contain fiber and many valuable nutrients, including vitamins A and C, iron, potassium, folic acid, iron, magnesium and a small amount of healthy fats.6 The protein in peas, including snow peas, has been shown in clinical studies to help fight both high blood pressure and chronic kidney disease (CKD), a condition that puts patients at higher risk for cardiovascular complications and kidney malfunction.

A Canadian study7 found that rats fed pea protein hydrolysate extracted from yellow garden peas had a 20 percent decrease in blood pressure compared to rats being fed a normal diet. In people with high blood pressure, pea protein may delay or prevent the onset of kidney damage, and in people who already have kidney disease, pea protein may help maintain a healthy blood pressure so these individuals can live longer.

However, just eating peas, cooked or raw, may not produce the same blood pressure-lowering effects as the protein extract used in the study, as the beneficial proteins are inactive and require treatment with special enzymes to become active. For people suffering from this condition, drugs that are used to treat hypertension can’t change the underlying cause of your high blood pressure. Additionally, Organic Facts notes:

“There are a number of impressive health benefits of snow peas, including weight loss, cancer prevention, improved heart health, reduced constipation, stronger bones, optimized immunity and lower levels of inflammation, among other (benefits).”8

How to Increase Snow Pea Yields

When it comes to carrying more crunchy snow peas from your garden for dinner, you can “latch on” to certain tried-and-true methods proven by veteran gardeners. Here are three great ideas:

• Spacing. Depending on the brand of the snow pea seeds you purchase for planting, you may find the recommendation for spacing to be 2 inches apart in single rows, but according to Oklahoma State University horticulturist and professor Brian Kahn, placing the seeds 4 inches apart in double rows can increase your yield by as much as 23 percent by gram weight, as it did in comparison test plantings. He explains how that happens:

“We believe that plants spaced 4 inches apart branch more, and have more pods on those branches, while the vines planted 2 inches apart barely branch at all and get bearing nodes only on the main stem.���9

• Trellising. You may have seen pretty trellises in attractive, high-yield gardens on which curly snow pea tendrils create long vines that latch on and climb. Keeping “space” involved in your snow pea planting also can involve going vertical as well as horizontal, which means you can go “up” as well as “out.” It may involve a little more planning, but it’s worth it. Simply plant your seeds next to a trellis and the pods will literally hang around waiting to be picked.

When you grow double rows of snow peas, you can just set up one trellis between the rows, but another perk to trellising is that, rather than lying on the ground to become a snack for every passing slug and snail, the peas are much more safe and unavailable to critters.

Snow peas are very lightweight, so a long length of string or twine running between frames of bamboo poles or sticks allows you to pack a lot of peas in a small amount of space. Once the plants are tall enough to reach the bottoms of the frame, gently lift the twining tendrils onto them to allow them to latch on. That’s all there is to it.

• Seed inoculation. In some soils, a naturally occurring bacteria stimulates the formation of nodes on the snow pea plant’s roots that make it easier to extract nitrogen from the air. This means the plant virtually feeds itself in a phenomenon called “nitrogen fixing.” One simple way to do it is to shake the seeds in a plastic bag containing the powdered inoculant, which you can order from seed catalogs and pick up at garden centers.

Promptly picking your snow peas is one of the most basic ways to increase your yield simply because allowing the pods to languish for too long on the vine renders them slightly tough rather than tender/crisp. Another reason is a simple rule of the garden: The more you pick, the more the plant can produce.

Good Advice: Plant Early, Harvest More

One thing you’ll find about snow peas is that once you start cultivating them yourself, you’ll see how hardy they are even in the chilliest weather. Planting them in early spring will ensure germination even when the air temperature dips as low as 40 degrees Fahrenheit, although their favorite sprouting temperature is somewhere between 50 and 60 degrees F.

Gardening expert Eliot Coleman notes that some of his fellow gardeners who live in milder climates such as those in Zone 7, roughly the upper Southern areas of the U.S., get an early start by sowing their snow pea seeds in the late fall for sprouting the following spring. His own snow pea-growing system has altered over time:

“[Coleman] … [h]as developed a different system that has him plucking pods in his Harborside, Maine garden earlier than ever before: He sows two rows of ‘Short N’ Sweet' snow peas along the back wall of his cold frame (behind some salad greens) around March 15. By the time the vines grow tall enough to touch the lid, the season has advanced enough that Coleman can safely remove the cover and let his snow peas grow unprotected.”10

Coleman has advice for other snow pea growers for increasing their yield and getting the snappiest, greenest and sweetest snow peas, especially if they’re anxious to get started: “Experiment by starting some snow peas earlier and some later, and prove the experts wrong about when you should plant them.”

If you find yourself with a surplus of snow peas (which is hard to achieve, as they often end up being munched right in the garden), you can store them in the freezer. Still Tasty11 says you can spread the raw pea pods flat on baking sheets, place them in the freezer and once they've frozen, quickly transfer them to resealable freezer bags or shallow airtight containers. Return them to the freezer to keep for 10 or 12 months, and maybe longer.

from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader https://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/04/13/growing-snow-peas.aspx

[beantobar-blog1]

Making bean to bar chocolate at home: Batch #1

DAY 1...

This morning I decided to attempt my first batch of bean-to-bar chocolate.

I freaked out when I opened the sack of Madagascan beans, worried they looked mouldy. After a bit of research, I was relieved to discover the pale dusty appearance is normal - just yeast from the fermentation process. Plus they smelled good. Phew! Dumping 10kg (22lb) of gorgeous Sambriano Valley beans would’ve been gutting; and my own fault for not storing them properly. They’ve been in a burlap sack in a cardboard box in the coolest part of my house, but I’ve been wondering whether it would be wiser to keep them completely airtight.

Since it was my first time using the Premier Table Top Tilting Grinder, I ran 1kg (2.2lb) of granulated sugar through it for over an hour, slowly tightening the rollers until they were all the way down. This smooths the rollers out and gets rid of any minerals.

I threw the sugar away, but didn’t wash the grinder, since moisture would ruin the chocolate.

Step 1 - ROASTING

Before roasting, I removed the dodgy looking beans that looked gnarly or broken. Some folk recommend discarding the flat ones too, as they haven’t fermented properly.

I don’t have a roaster so just roasting in the oven.

There’s no definitive answer when it comes to temperature and roasting times. Every chocolate maker has their own way and there are lots of variables: your oven, the dish you roast them in, the type of beans and of course the flavour you’re after.

One method is to start at a higher temperature and gradually lower it, or vice versa. Since this is my first go I went for a simpler method, roasting at 130C (270F) for 30 minutes.

It’s common to roast beans in a single layer spread out on a baking sheet, but I heard that this can scorch the beans underneath, particularly if the roasting tin is thin, so a heavy glass dish could be more reliable. I didn’t have a glass dish big enough so used a cast iron pot, stirring the beans every 5 minutes for an even roast.

After 30 minutes there was a distinct aroma of brownies, so I took them out the dish to cool. Some chocolate makers think it’s best to cool them for a few hours, even 24, but I didn’t wait that long.

Step 2 - CRACKING & WINNOWING

I assumed since the batch was small, cracking and peeling the beans by hand wouldn’t be a big deal. Holy crap was I wrong. After an hour, I had a tiny jugful of nibs and a massive tray of unpeeled beans staring at me. Some of the beans were difficult to peel and pretty soon I wanted to kill myself.

I decided to crack the beans a bit more aggressively, putting them in a plastic bag and bashing them with a rubber mallet (in the absence of a rolling pin). I learned from this first botched attempt that it’s better to put fewer beans in the bag and use a transparent bag, so you can spread then out in a single layer and see what you’re doing, carefully whacking them just hard enough to crack the husks and break the beans into pieces, without pulverising them to a powder.

When I attempted winnowing with a hairdryer, I suffered the consequences of bashing my beans over-zealously.

I put the cracked beans in a large bowl and blasted them with a hairdryer on the cool setting. This is best done outside, as husks fly everywhere, making a huge mess. You might want to wear goggles and a mask if you’re doing loads, because it gets really dusty.

The idea was to shimmy the bowl around while blowing the husks off with cool air, leaving the nibs. But unfortunately there wasn’t enough weight difference between husk fragments and nib fragments, so I ended up blowing loads of my nibs away.

I ended up with just under 500g (1.1lb) of nibs, when I started with 750g (1.7lb).  I only expected to lose about 20% of the weight after winnowing, so I’d wasted over 100g (3.5oz). 

Second time around, with fewer beans in the bag, a clear bag and much more careful bashing, I cracked the beans into bigger chunks, rather than powder.

I also tried to use a little more finesse with the hairdryer, holding it further away and gently agitating and sifting the nibs with my hands, so I didn’t create a hurricane in the bowl and blast everything clean out. The tortoise approach is definitely superior to the hare.

After a while, there were still quite a few beans with husks on, so I spent another hour or more hand-peeling those, wondering whether I was being too OCD about it. I didn’t want to risk the texture and flavour of the chocolate by leaving too many husks in, so veered on the side of perfectionism. About 2% husks is okay.

Step 3 - GRINDING & CONCHING

I ended up with 483g (1lb) of nibs.

Before grinding the nibs, I whizzed them to a fine powder in a blender, to ease the pressure on the grinder’s rollers and motor. If I had a better blender or food processor I would’ve kept going until they were more like a rough paste, but they were clogging up, so I stopped at a powder.

I’m in a hot climate - it was about 35C (95F) outside and 28C (82F) in my adega-turned-chocolate-factory. I tipped the nibs into the grinder, holding the hairdryer above to get the heat going, but they reached 45C in no time so there was enough heat in the grinder to ditch the hairdryer.

I tipped 140g (5oz) melted cocoa butter into the nibs straight away. Next time I might try waiting for a few hours, before adding the cocoa butter. Apparently some chocolate makers conch the nibs for 24 hours, then add the cocoa butter and sugar and conch for another 10. There are endless combinations and it’ll be interesting to see what difference it makes to the flavour.

After about 10 minutes I added 340g (12oz) sugar, so everything was in the grinder really quickly. I gradually tightened the rollers in 5 minute intervals until they were all the way down.

I was aiming for 65% dark chocolate. The recipe was 500g (1.1lb) nibs, 350g (12oz) caster sugar, 150g (5oz) melted cocoa butter. Since I blew away more nibs than planned, I reduced the quantities a tiny bit. Having tasted the liquor and read more recipes, this might be heavy on sugar, but we’ll see how it turns out. I tend to prefer less sweetness. Next time I might try more like 65% nibs, 5% cocoa butter and 30% sugar.

My liquor was grinding at 45-50C (113-122F), so I didn’t need to put the lid on for extra warmth. Leaving the lid off reduces the acidity and smoothes out the flavours. If you’re in a cooler climate you can use a lamp to keep the temperature up.

After a few hours, during which I scraped down the sides of the grinder a few times, it looked like melted chocolate. I kept tasting as it got less grainy. Still seems a bit sweet.

I’m going for a 24 hour conch.

I’m worried about tempering, moulding and storage in this heat. Storing chocolate in the fridge may be my only option, but there’s a risk of condensation that’ll cause sugar bloom and ruin the temper. From what I can gather if chocolate loses it’s temper because it’s too hot (I know the feeling), you can re-temper; but if it loses it’s temper because it has been stored in the fridge too cold, you’ve had it. I haven’t tested this for myself yet. Regardless, the chocolate will still taste good and will be perfectly fine for cakes, hot chocolate etc. The best I can do is to store it in an airtight container, wrapped up in towels or bubble wrap. That way, when I come to use it, I can bring it up to room temperature slowly to reduce the moisture. Not ideal, but until I get a wine fridge, it’s the only way.

DAY 2...

I tasted my chocolate after 16 hours in the grinder and all the graininess had gone. Silky smooth and tastes delicious.

I could store my untempered chocolate for a few weeks to age, to develop the flavours. But I’m already concerned about storage in this hot climate, so that’s an experiment best left until Winter. I’m not sure whether ageing is effective in the fridge. Also I don’t have the patience to wait, because I’m desperate to see my first chocolate bars!

So tempering and moulding right away it is.

Step 4 - TEMPERING

As with most aspects of chocolate making, opinions differ on the best tempering method. If you don’t have a tempering machine, a bain marie works fine to raise the temperature. Then to drop it down, you can spread the chocolate onto a marble slab, or use a cold water bath, stirring like mad. Some people seed the chocolate with pieces of previously temperated chocolate, but I don’t have any yet. I’ve also seen Dom Ramsey and others succeed by cooling it naturally.

I spotted a few minor variations on recommended temperatures:

i) Heat to 49C (120F), cool to 26C (79F), heat to 32C (89.5F). ii) Heat to 45C (113F), cool to 28.5C (83F), heat to 31C (88F). iii) Heat to 40C (104F), spread on slab until it thickens, heat to 31C (88F)

Some say tempering in a hot climate is nigh impossible, but I’m not having that. My first attempt, however, was not a success.

First of all I tipped the mixture straight out of the grinder. It had been sitting around 43-45C (109.5-113F) all day, so theoretically was close to the high temperature already. By the time I’d scraped it into the bowl, it was in the thirties, so I decided to heat it back up. I tried the hairdryer first of all, but that wasn’t cutting it, so made a bain marie. I took the bowl off when it was at 45C (113F), but it rose quite a bit more, to almost 50C (122F).

I thought since the room temperature was around 28C, I’d be able to hit the low temperature with the help of a fan and lots of stirring. Not so. I ended up running to fetch a pan of ice water, but I didn’t have enough ice, nor a big enough water bath, so it was taking forever to cool down.

After about 10 minutes of frantic stirring, I remembered I had one of those blue ice pack things in the freezer, so dropped that into the water and the temperature started to fall.

When it hit 28C (82.5F), I started heating it back up with the hairdryer to 31C (88F).

I do have a marble worktop, so perhaps shouldn’t chicken out of the spreading method.

The bars aren’t beautiful and glossy like I hoped for, so it’s back to the drawing board on the tempering front. There’s cocoa butter bloom on some of the bars and the chocolate stuck to the mould for the same reason. 

With only 10 bars from this batch, I’m not going to sweat it too much. I’ll have another go with tomorrow’s batch.

Overall, the chocolate is silky sooth and I’m pleased with the result flavour-wise. I just need to master the tempering, despite the challenging climate.

Lessons for next time:

If using the water bath method: big sink / basin full of water, don’t skimp on the ice.

Don’t keep the bowl on the bain marie; instead take it on and off, stirring and measuring the temperature, so it’s easier to control and doesn’t rise so aggressively. It’s particularly important not to let the final temperature rise about 32C (89.5F), otherwise you need to start again. This could easy be what knackered my temper this time. Perhaps it also took too long for the chocolate to cool.

Life is too short for crappy, floppy silicon moulds. Invest in some decent, rigid, transparent ones. They’ll be easier to tap and shake to remove air bubbles; plus you’ll be able to see when the chocolate is set. I blemished two bars popping them out a little early as I couldn’t tell.

Test the temper before moulding by putting a blob of chocolate on a knife and letting it set at room temperature (some say in the fridge) for a few minutes. If it looks uneven dull, as opposed to glossy and smooth, re-temper it right away. When you touch properly tempered chocolate, it won’t leave a melty smudge on your finger.

Experiment summary, Batch #1

Recipe 483g (1lb) nibs (50.2%) - Madagascar Organic, Sambriano Valley 140g (5oz) cocoa butter (14.5%) - Chocolate Madagascar Organic 340g (12oz) golden caster sugar (35.3%)

Method Roasting: 130C (270F) for 30 mins, stirring every 5, in cast iron pot Adding ingredients: Everything added very close together in the first 10 mins Conching: 24 hours Temper: half-assed last-minute-flap water bath. Rubbish.

[linda-charlie-bloom-blog]

Smiling at Fear

A while back, Linda and I attended a weekend retreat led by Pema Chodron, a long-time practitioner of Buddhist meditation and the principal teacher at the Buddhist center, Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia. The retreat was based upon the teachings of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a Tibetan teacher of Buddhism and author of many books, including Smile At Fear, which happened to be the theme of the retreat. Both Linda and I have been long-time fans of Pema’s work and her books, especially the best-seller, When Things Fall Apart, which seems to have been written precisely for these times.

So naturally, when we heard about the retreat, which was held at a huge pavilion in the Bay Area city of Richmond, we signed up for it, and not a moment too soon. Despite the fact that the event was being held in a building that accommodates 3,000 people, we just barely made it in before it sold out. The hotel that the sponsoring organization had contracted with for the special room rate however had sold all of its rooms that had been reserved for the retreat. After many phone calls and much time on line, we were able to find a nearby hotel that had rooms available and we reserved one for the weekend.

At the end of the first evening, we drove to our hotel and because it was dark and there was a detour on the road, I found it difficult to follow the directions and because of a number of wrong turns that I made, it took us about three times longer to find our way to the hotel than it should have. I made a verbal note to Linda to get an early start the next morning to make sure that even if we got lost again, we would make it in time for the opening meditation.

It was a good idea, but fate it, seemed, had other plans for us. After having breakfast at a nearby restaurant, we got on the road, with plenty of time to spare and I proceeded to get us even more lost than we had been the night before. Still, I wasn’t worried since we had left early enough to deal with any unplanned meanderings and still make it in time.

When after about fifteen minutes going in what turned out to be the wrong direction, it became obvious to us both when we ended up at a dead end, that my instincts, which are not always 100% reliable, had unfortunately failed me and it was time for another game plan. The question was, “Now what?”

Although I was totally unfamiliar with the terrain, I declined Linda’s suggestion that we might consider asking someone for directions. No need to do that. I did what any other man would do in a similar situation, one in which he had absolutely no idea of where he was or how to get to where he wanted to go. There was of course no need to ask anyone for directions. Yes, my instincts had just failed me, but there was no reason to believe that they would fail me again. After all how often does lightning strike twice in the same place? One misjudgment was fluke; two would be a near impossibility. Besides I was really sure this time that I knew the way. Linda was beginning to have her doubts, but bless her heart, she gave me another chance.

Well, you’ll be shocked… SHOCKED, to hear this, but it soon became apparent that I was wrong again. Unbelievable! But apparently not to Linda who once again asked me with great patience and mindfulness if I might want to reconsider my decision to not ask anyone for directions. By now it was getting late and there was a serious possibility that we might be late for the morning meditation, and come straggling in after it had begun, with the room absolutely quiet, and we would destroy the stillness and conscious breathing of the 3000 punctual yogis who would be sitting in perfect posture being perfectly mindful, immersed in the joy of perfect consciousness. No doubt, all of them would open their eyes just long enough to see who it was that was interrupting their blissful state. It would be planted in everyone’s awareness that I was the one who was responsible for breaking the perfect peace of the room and clumsily, tardily, exposing my unenlightened self.

With all this going through my mind, it was clear to me that it would probably be a good idea to take Linda’s advice and pop the question to someone who might know more than I did about the local terrain, which probably would have been anyone over three years old that happened to be in the vicinity. I went into a nearby convenience store and asked the clerk for directions. As luck would have it, he knew exactly where the pavilion was and provided me with very clear and simple directions to the facility. I got back in the car, no longer feeling anxious or distressed, and headed for the pavilion.

It looked like we were going to make it on time after all. When we began to see signs directing cars to the retreat, I knew that we were home free, or so it seemed. Unfortunately, this was not to be the case. Four blocks from the pavilion a flashing red light appeared up ahead accompanied by a clanging bell. The two cars in front of me stopped at the railroad crossing that was literally less than twenty-five feet in front of me.

My mood immediately got dark again with all kinds of very unenlightened thoughts and urges coming into my mind. In an instant, I went from perfect peace to perfect frustration.

I checked the time. We still had nearly ten minutes before the first session began and we were so close to our destination. Even if the train took five minutes to pass we would still have enough time to get to the parking lot and make it inside before the meditation began. No problem, except for one thing: The train turned out to be by far the longest train that I had ever seen in my life, maybe the longest train in the world. It took more than five minutes, more than ten minutes, more than fifteen minutes. It took over twenty minutes for that train to pass and for the crossing bars to finally lift to let the drivers in what had now become an incredibly long line of cars to restart their engines and resume their travels.

My initial reaction to all this was to be possessed by a frenzy of impotent outrage. In the midst of my expletive-filled rantings, Linda, gently but in a way that pierced my wall of anger, reminded me of three things that for some unknown reason, I was fortunate enough to be able to actually hear, that stopped me and my rantings cold in my tracks (almost literally!). One: There is nothing that we can do about this situation. Two: It is temporary and at some point it will end. Three: We came to the retreat to experience peace, greater awareness, and acceptance of the experience of the present moment.

My initial reaction was to feel the urge to redirect my anger towards Linda –How dare she deprive me of my righteous indignation and of the pleasure of feeling like a victim of unfair circumstances! Then in the next moment, I saw the ludicrousness of my reaction, given the circumstances of our situation. And I saw things from the perspective from which Linda was viewing them.

We had been given an opportunity to practice what Pema had spoken about in the previous night: to be able to bring a mind of openness, acceptance, and non-judging awareness into all of our experiences, not just those that go in accordance with our plans. Not because this was the right thing for us to do, or because there was some reward that we would get for being mindful, but simply because to do otherwise was a certain prescription for continuing to create pain and suffering, something that I had just experienced a vivid taste of. I looked at Linda. She wasn’t distressed at all. She was smiling, not at fear, but at the ridiculous spectacle that I had made of myself in thinking that if I got upset enough, reality might change. My anger melted in that moment and I experienced a feeling of incredible gratitude towards Linda and a release of the frustration that I had been feeling. In what seemed like a moment later, the last train car finally passed, and the gate lifted. I started the car and we drove into the parking lot which was only about 100 yards away. The five minute walk from our parking spot to our seat inside of the pavilion was delicious. I realized about halfway to the building that I must have been smiling, because nearly everyone that I passed with whom I made eye contact, seemed to be smiling back at me. I smiled through the morning meditation and I’m smiling now as I write these this.

I’m remembering the words of Swami Satchidananda, who was fond of saying that we can’t stop the waves from coming, but we can learn to surf.

Hang ten!