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Restaurant Meat Suppliers | D&D Poultry
With over 25 years of experience in the wholesale business, D&D Poultry has established itself as a trusted supplier of meat to restaurants and families in Ontario and the surrounding areas. As specialized Restaurant Meat Suppliers, we understand the unique needs of our customers. Whether you require regular small meat deliveries for your restaurant or larger wholesale quantities for larger businesses, our delivery service is designed to meet your specific requirements.
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Make the Best of Restaurant Offers from Tariq Halal
Learn how to make the best of restaurant offers from Tariq Halal. Contact us to order fresh halal meat for your restaurant.
#halal meat supplier for restaurants#source high quality halal meat#tariq halal restaurant supplier#benefits of using tariq halal meat#restaurant success with halal options
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With the ever-present rush towards convenience, so many sit-in restaurants are becoming take-out-only instead. Let's be honest: none of us really want to go outside and talk to people in order to get food. Just flip that app and bingbong® yourself a drunk order of fried treats for only $25 in fees.
Pizza Hut was one of the first to abandon the pull of large square footage, throwing millions of nostalgic red plastic cups into industrial grinders in a mad rush to stop bleeding so much goddamn money all the time. Today, those cups are worth $250 on eBay, so they look pretty stupid now, don't they?
The problem with all this is, in the time of our foreparents, it was real hard to fake the existence of a restaurant. If you went to a Pizza Hut, it was a real-ass physical building. It probably had not been copy-pasted together by a bunch of Taiwanese scam artists using Google Image Search fifteen seconds before you appeared. That was more of a Taco Bell thing. Nowadays, you can't be sure. Computers treat bullshit the same as any other kind of shit, so sometimes you'll be ordering from a completely imaginary restaurant. Feels weird, doesn't it?
As with many other cases in my adult life where I figured out everyone was just faking it, I decided to try and make some quick money. Papa needed a new engine, you see, and Slant Sixes don't exactly grow on trees anymore. With just a couple wonky Excel spreadsheets and a glob of code the size of Upper Tonawanda, I was in business with Switch's Fun-Time Pizza, an entirely non-fictitious restaurant whose address happened to be at the same place as a Pizza Hut.
Folks would pay me money, and then I'd quickly pay Pizza Hut to have a pizza ready by the time the delivery guy rolled up. Nobody seemed to care that the box said the wrong thing, and soon I was collecting fat stacks of money for doing nothing at all, just like the platforms themselves. This went on for a few weeks, fattening my bank account for slaughter. Until the first complaints came in, that is.
Yes, friends: it turned out that the local Pizza Hut had hired someone who wasn't very good at washing their hands. Soon, I was handing out big-time refunds on behalf of a massive international corporation, except I was doing so out of my own ill-gotten profits. My rickety, strung-together bullshit engine made entirely out of spreadsheets and chewing gum simply could not comprehend the idea of a refund, much less one for a weak human phenomenon such as food poisoning. Soon, all the money was gone.
Have I learned something from this whole experience? Yes. The most important thing in food service is to wash your hands thoroughly before (and after!) handling the customer's meat. The second most important thing is to charge at least a hundred percent premium over your supplier, to leave room for little hiccups such as this.
That's way easier to do if you position yourself as an upscale luxury restaurant, such as Lord Switchington of Canterbury's Refined Palate Pizza Parlour For Bourgeois Assholes Only, which will be launching this weekend in the very expensive neighbourhood next to mine. Hopefully their Pizza Hut is a little bit better at keeping the bathroom soap dispenser stocked.
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I KNOW A GUY
scout: need a car pushed? need a free house sitter who won’t steal your shit? need a good playlist in thirty minutes for a very specific situation? need a group of guys in front of your place in an hour? need something delivered quickly under the radar? need someone jumped in a back alley? need a body buried? he’s your guy.
soldier: do you need a body buried? need someone’s nose broken? need some extra limbs of unknown origin? need a free bodyguard at the club so you can have a good time alone? need a free accidental hitman? need someone who will make you feel good about yourself by making you feel bad about yourself? need your gutters cleaned on your house? need someone who will come literally fight the monsters under your kids bed? he’s your guy.
pyro: need a body buried— well, cremated? got a financial emergency in which you can’t afford? need a sugar parent you don’t have to sleep with? at your nephews party and spider-man didn’t show up and now you need someone in a costume at this house pronto? need a gift for your nephew because you forgot to buy one? pyro’s your person for the low low price of kindling.
demo: need a drink that will make you experience ego death? need a ride for your bitch of an aunt so she never asks you to do anything ever again? need connections to a guy who sells peculiar cuts of meat from peculiar animals? need someone to get cussed out, for no reason? need a structure demolished in ten minutes? need someone who’s got vintage vinyls for sale? he’s your guy.
heavy: need your car pushed? need a meal made for fifteen? need someone handled? need an emergency ride to the hospital in the dead of winter? hell, need anything done in the dead of winter? need something out of a tree? need a tree cut down? need a plant sitter while you’re out of town? he’s your guy.
engineer: need your car’s computer replaced at a fraction of the cost? want someone’s tesla booted permanently? need a custom built prosthetic? need security cameras installed? need your wifi restarted? need someone who can cut a key in two minutes? need someone who can pick a lock in less than five? he’s your guy.
medic: you need some boobs? need some boobs removed? need to add or delete a penis? did you run out of testosterone or estrogen? need a binder? need a packer? hell, need a supplier for your side job of drug dealing? need a new kidney? need an abortion? need a hysterectomy under the table? need some unethically sourced body parts of unknown origin? all for the low price of free and don’t tell anyone? medic is your guy for all things medical. he does not care, he will just keep whatever he takes.
sniper: you need a body double to go with you to the store? need a guy who can do intermediate addition and subtraction without a calculator? need someone stalked? need a guy who has nothing but free time to get in an online queue and wait all day to buy your concert tickets? need a ride to and from said concert? he’s your guy.
spy: do you happen to need an armchair therapist? need access to a book in one library across the country? need a rumor spread like the plague? need someone handled? need a body buried? need a thirty minute etiquette class before you go on a date? need a new cook after you killed the last one at the restaurant? he’s your guy.
#team fortress 2#team fortress two#tf2 medic#tf2 scout#tf2 sniper#tf2 spy#tf2 demo#tf2 demoman#tf2 engineer#tf2 heavy#tf2 pyro#tf2#tf2 soldier#today we learn: every merc is capable of burying a body.#and medic is one of the girls idc idc idc#free gender changes for everyone
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It's been a while since I've posted anything from Irondad… much less Marvel, but a while ago, thanks to a few likes, I found some Iron Dad and Spiderson content that really got my brain to start generating content.
So:
An idea that I feel is relatively canon in-universe where Peter and Tony can have a perfect platonic paternal relationship and everyone is still alive. And I say Platonic Paternal because Tony always takes too long to adopt Peter.
But, as I was saying. A Tender thought on the more mundane interaction between Tony and Peter as the father and son that they are:
1- I don't know if Tony and Peter ever notice it, but on repeated occasions when Tony has a snack on hand, be it chips to more elaborate things like meat and mash, Peter instinctively opens his mouth and makes a very adorable sound. Just like chicks do with their mother birds when they are hungry, and whenever Peter does that, Tony always gives him a big mouthful of whatever he has at the time.
Tony has a Frappé? Peter has the best sips, and incidentally eats all the whipped cream. Regardless if Peter already has an extra large milkshake in his hands at the time.
Tony has his favourite burger? Peter is entitled to a bite and a good handful of the fries… even if he has the children's menu on his own.
All it takes is for Peter to make that sound for Tony to give him a bite of whatever he's eating at the time.
Not to mention that Tony, like any father, literally gets exaggerated amounts of the food that Pter once showed some interest in.
Were those strawberries good? No matter, Tony made sure he had a contact with the strawberry supplier and now they are always available everywhere Peter has access to them.
Does Peter like various junk food restaurants? Tony is further accused of monopoly for wanting to buy up all the various restaurant chains so that he can own them and Peter doesn't have to use coupons.
#iron dad and spider son#platonic tony stark#tony stark#peter parker#irondad#irondad spiderson#spiderson#irondad and spiderson#ironman#spider son#marvel
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Hob is the chef for the mob money laundering restaurant in his area. Because the restaurant isn't expected or required to turn a profit, Hob can cook what he wants and run the place mostly how he wants -- his liquor and meat suppliers are sketchy as hell and he has to be nice to all the "made" guys who come into the place, but mostly he's left alone to cook the food he wants.
Hob is a really good chef, but his restaurant concept was never going to be something that secured bank loans or conventional funding. Still his food and the chill vibe of the restaurant made it a hit with area locals and got him a lot of loyal repeat customers.
Into to this comes a food critic who writes up Hob's restaurant glowingly and whose review catches the eye of one of those fancy best restaurants in the world list/Michelin star judges who visits the restaurant and loves it, and puts it on the list.
Your choice:
1. Dream is the smitten judge - the food is so good, the chef is hot and fantastic, the restaurant deserves attention; Hob is chuffed and horrified! For Hob the recognition is wonderful and validating, but the restaurant is still a mob front and can't really handle the scrutiny, like at all.
OR
2. Dream is the mobster in charge of the territory containing Hob "restaurant" and when the restaurant is put on the best list/gets a Michelin star, Dream goes to see what should be done (torch the place 😉😉).
But Dream tastes the food and sees Hob being fantastic and welcoming; Dream realizes that he's going to have to clean up the "crime-y" aspect(s) of the business so that it can withstand the attention.
This is all absolutely incredible and I love both scenarios! But number 2 is tickling me so much. Hardened criminal mob boss Dream having to accept that he's accidently got a bona fide cooking genius on his hands, having to send in his men to "clean up" the restaurant - literally. If Hob is going to make this place a success, then the books are going to be in order, the ingredients are going to be paid for, the staff will get a good wage, and the health inspectors will have nothing to complain about.
Hob comes to Dream and apologises for causing trouble. He didn't mean to draw attention to Dream’s "business ventures". Dream assures him that its ok, he's decided to let him live. As long as he keeps a table free for Dream whenever he wants it.
And Dream ends up coming in every night (when he's not busy criming) for the pleasure of Hob’s company, and the nice food. He's a lot less grumpy and menacing when he's been properly fed, and Hob kinda forgets to be scared of him? Then one time Dream shows up with a massive bullet graze in his shoulder and Hob has to give him first aid in the kitchen. After it's done they sit on the floor and eat together, and when Dream falls asleep Hob carefully carries him upstairs to the flat above the restaurant.
There's a mob boss in his bed, pale and sleep-soft and the worst of it all is that Hob wants to keep him there, safe. If only he could.
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Consumers cannot expect boneless chicken wings to actually be free of bones, a divided Ohio Supreme Court ruled Thursday, rejecting claims by a restaurant patron who suffered serious medical complications from getting a bone stuck in his throat. Michael Berkheimer was dining with his wife and friends at a wing joint in Hamilton, Ohio, and had ordered the usual — boneless wings with parmesan garlic sauce — when he felt a bite-size piece of meat go down the wrong way. Three days later, feverish and unable to keep food down, Berkeimer went to the emergency room, where a doctor discovered a long, thin bone that had torn his esophagus and caused an infection. Berkheimer sued the restaurant, Wings on Brookwood, saying the restaurant failed to warn him that so-called “boneless wings” — which are, of course, nuggets of boneless, skinless breast meat — could contain bones. The suit also named the supplier and the farm that produced the chicken, claiming all were negligent.
Continue Reading.
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i might recompile my winterfield headcanons that i've written in twitter but here's a new one (food edition(??)):
ethan is pescatarian, before re7 he eats chicken but never other types of meat, chris manages to reintroduce him to eat chicken again for his military training but ethan became sick.
because of ethan's new diet, ethan went in and tried different types of fish for variety, but at the end he sticks to his favorite week night fish meat is the typical salmon or tilapia, for him grouper fish is the best for soup meals
ethan does't eat raw sashimi or any raw meat due to re7 incident.
ethan doesn't like shellfish too much due to the texture, some are okay like abalone.
chris prefer seasoning that punch your taste buds, something very strong like Garam Masala, Cajun, Shacha sauce (Chinese BBQ), while ethan preferences is pretty mild, so around the circle of Herbes de Provence.
i'm not saying that ethan can't handle the spices or the heat, he just prefer simpler taste and the natural taste of the main ingredient (salmon, etc).
acidity for food, like lemon and vinegar are exceptions, ethan describes it "brings the whole dish back alive!"
from my previous headcanon, i've mentioned how chris is very big into safety (guns, cars, etc), this includes him being cautious with picking meat suppliers and checking labels on where they got their meat from ((again, it's because of the RPD incident, even though he is not there to experience it singlehandedly, he saw his close ones living in that situation, same thing with his parents dying due to a car incident)) it's more so long term over short term, sure he'll try an exotic meat like squirrel/snake from a trusted restaurant/supplier but he's not going to eat that meat everyday
chris' priority isn't about enviromental sustainability (sadly), really just for health wise for him and his close ones (IF they ask, ethan and rebecca agreed, claire doesn't care, jill and leon is indifferent with these sets of informations)
as for chris, he eats whatever meat, he prefers lean meat due to his training, so chicken is very important for him. other meat such as beef and pork is more so a treat for chris. he WILL try exotic meat.
but again, I think both are okay eating the same meal over and over again, and genuinely not picky, Chris doesn't pay too much attention if the meal that he'd ate is the same with the previous meal, he only cares of it's healthy or not (claire and him grew up eating leftovers after leftovers, claire sometimes complained about it). Ethan has a different reason, i think of him to have phases cater around his interest and that phases last in 6-8 month or so.
most of the main dish were picked by ethan, most of the time it's made using dutch oven, so something along the lines of cassrole or stews were often dinner meals for them. with a side of light salad or carbs like stale bread.
Chris isn't the "health police", he's really just a very cautious man. OHH the irony since he smokes the most in the group.
He still sneaks in some chocolate and sweet treats too.. ethan finds it adorable to see that chris is a sweet tooth like him 😭 soemtimes ethan will ask chris if they can get ice cream and you can see the man struggling to say no 🥺
chris sometimes substitue his cigarette with licorice lozenges. he doesn't like patches, but he will take one if he's in a very long flight.
chris HAS to sleep in plane flights, if not he'll grew restless due to him not smoking. he'll wake up to eat or take a piss and that's it.
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The Beef
Does anybody else miss the Beef? Don't get me wrong; they could still change the name to the Bear if they wanted to, but every time I watch the pilot (which remains my favorite episode), and I hear the Ballbreaker theme or see Carmy with his underground meat connect (or Fak talks about his condenser guy), I miss the grungy days of the Beef.
I still feel they could've done some renovations and training, etc. in Season 2, but remained that beloved, chaotic joint from the hood with the world-famous sandwiches.
I want to see more underground "connects" and Ballbreaker tournaments. I want to keep seeing Carmy and Sydney improvise, like when Carmy had to leave the beef on two hours longer because he could only get bone-in, or when the power went out and Sydney set up a grill outside. I want to meet more trash-talking, chain-wearing Italians. Hell, I wouldn't even mind meeting Richie's coke supplier, lol.
Because while I'm impressed with the world of fine dining (more specifically, the hard-working people behind the scenes), I feel like the show lost a bit of its soul when the restaurant "upgraded". I think we would've had a better story if Carmy were to simply take his fine dining skills back to his "street" roots and stay there.
Because oddly enough, this show reminds me of a guy right here in Houston who won an episode of "Chopped" during Season 12. He took his winnings and fine dining background, and opened up a food truck. When he earned more money, he opened a restaurant, Craft Burger. He recently opened a second location. And now, after leaving behind his fancy background and focusing on more "common food", his restaurants stay packed. That's what I would've liked to see on the Bear.
Hopefully, something will happen that'll force them to return to their roots. Everyone on here predicts that an epic fight between Carmy and Sydney is coming; if so, maybe it'll be the catalyst to help them get back to basics.
#the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx#carmy x sydney#sydcarmy#sydney x carmen#carmy and sydney#chaos menu#chefs kiss
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Headcanon. Technically, Raised Together Alastor's first project was a literal Hell's Kitchen eatery in Cannibal Town. He's there on his days off from the hotel. "Sorry, Charlie. It's Tuesday, I need to go pick up from my supplier."
Oh, I like this very much! He probably couldn't open his eatery in Cannibal Town, since Lucifer set a pretty hard rule about 'no eating other sentient beings, no I don't care if they were assholes.' Cannibal Town likely does have at least a few restaurants that serve non-mystery meat, but I don't think one that has no cannibal dishes at all would do very well there.
It's a bit funny and a bit charming how, despite being a powerful Overlord, Alastor does seem to genuinely enjoy his role as a hotelier. Lucifer's go to insults were positions in the service industry, and while there certainly is a pretty big step from 'busboy' to 'host of the hotel,' it says something that Alastor takes pride in it.
#ask#anonymous#headcanons#Hazbin Hotel#the Devil's Bastard AU#Raised Together AU#is Alastor secretly Gordon Ramsey?
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Meat Suppliers for Restaurants | D&D Poultry
Whether you're in need of meat delivery for restaurants or desire the convenience of having high-quality meats delivered right to your door, D&D Poultry is here to cater to your needs. They offer flexible delivery options to ensure your order reaches your desired location on time. D&D Poultry is the trusted partner you can rely on as your meat supplier for restaurants.
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I absolutely adore the chef/sommelier au and always find so much comfort in your writing. i have a few questions/prompts if you’re interested in any of these:
1) how did they meet? were they part of the same circles and crushing from afar until they finally had the chance to work together? or did they have a more classic meet cute?
2)Ava mentions that she knows Beatrice prefers to eat in the kitchen rather than the restaurant and I would be curious about any backstory behind how Ava came to learn this.
3) one of those foodie travel adventures where they eat their way through X city or cities
ok so this is no1 but has hints of the other two (which i love & will maybe write later!)
also i guess... this turned into platonic bea & lilith are in love. who knows lol
//
you've known beatrice for so long now, you really should've seen this coming.
for as annoying as she is, she's remarkably talented — something that had made you frustrated with her, and yourself, for years during culinary school. beatrice's food is true to who she is: wholly precise and quietly playful, elegant and creative, and really, really warm. thoughtful. surprisingly fun. you've always been able to tell: your technical skills are the best in the world, better than hers or anyone else you've ever met, and your palette is exquisite; you run a kitchen with quiet authority, and each dish comes out on time, exactly as it's supposed to. you are very good at your job. but beatrice makes food — elevated chinese and european fusion dishes, whatever she's most interested in at the moment — that makes you want to cry in its capacity to comfort. not that you would ever admit it, but you have stepped away to the bathroom on a handful of occasions to do just that.
she's more your sister than anything else — your little sister, you make sure to remind her — and so when chef superion had essentially ordered — encouragingly — beatrice into opening her own restaurant after five years of being chef de cuisine and, really, being the quiet driving force behind those three michelin stars, it hadn't even been a question to you that you would go with her. that you would help with the menu and everyday operations; the design and hours of operation; the sustainable sourcing for all of your dishes that she's always been so invested in. that part, while exhausting, had been fairly easy: mary and shannon, who own an urban farm, had been thrilled to partner, and you came up with a collaborative menu together. you were able to secure local seafood from a few suppliers, local ethical meat from your favorite butcher. camila, admittedly your favorite chef from superion's, young and absolutely kind, had agreed to come on and do pastry. you and beatrice had hired yasmine as your sous, trustworthy and smart.
you've been elbow-deep in planning — food, interior, front of house, all of it — for months. you're pretty sure beatrice works, like, twenty hours a day, and doesn't do anything but that. she eats takeout quickly in the kitchen, standing over a trashcan. every friday you barge into her condo and force her to eat greasy pizza and watch reality tv and share a joint. a year or so ago she had asked you to buzz her hair for her and you still do now, weekly, because she's neat and confident and loves efficiency and, according to many, many women unfortunately saying this to you directly whenever you drag her out for drinks, it's hot. she takes you to doctor's appointments and picks up your dry cleaning; she's the only person you let sharpen your knives for you, and the only person you'll share a bed with overnight if you're too drunk or stoned or tired to go home. she never says anything, never minds, just grumbles when her alarm goes off and grumbles sleepily in chinese while she makes herself an espresso.
and so, really, it's your fault. you should've known. you're not sure how you should've known, but you definitely should have.
'so,' you say, lowering yourself into the chair across from her immaculately neat desk in her office in the back, 'i think i found us a sommelier.'
your drinks menu is one of the last things you have to finalize, and beatrice has been so fucking picky about who to bring on to do so. cocktails hadn't been that hard; hans is competent and creative. but the wine pairings have been a pain in your ass: one sommelier was too old to have fresh, exciting ideas; one was a cis white man so beatrice automatically vetoed that, which, honestly, you didn't hate and definitely should've seen coming.
'and who is it?'
'ava silva,' you say, flick open your tablet to his profile: ava is young and renowned already, and has experience with local, natural wines and restaurants all over the world, especially europe, brazil, and east asia. she is, you realize later with a heartfelt deep annoyance, beautiful.
'ava silva,' beatrice repeats. she reads through ava's profile, her accomplishments and accolades and references. 'they worked with taian table.' beatrice hums. 'i've heard of them.'
'yeah.' you force yourself not to roll your eyes at her reluctance.
'ava is available to meet for a consult?'
'tomorrow, if you want. i can take care of the oyster tasting if that helps.'
she laughs, and you let yourself crack a smile. 'i don't even want to be a part of your oyster tasting, lilith.'
'just because i have fun —'
'sleeping with our supplier better not backfire on us, that's all i have to say.'
and maybe you should've realized right then, when beatrice's eyes lingered on ava's professional headshot on her website, on her impressive accolades. 'i am a consummate professional,' you tell beatrice.
she shakes her head, fondly, and leans back in her chair, runs a hand over her hair. 'fine,' she says, 'i'll take the meeting with ava.'
'great,' you say, relieved in the moment. 'what's the worst that can happen?'
/
very soon, unfortunately, you find out: beatrice is fucking insufferable. ava is even more insufferable, flirting with horrible humor and fond, relentless teasing. beatrice is, somehow, blushing and stumbling around like a schoolgirl, despite her attempts at being a serious, focused chef. she burns her hand on a pot, sets a towel on fire, and spills a red wine reduction all over her favorite apron the first time ava is coming to try a few dishes on the menu.
'jesus christ,' you say, maybe a little bit of a prayer, 'what the fuck, chef?'
beatrice groans. 'ava is... pretty.'
she says it reluctantly, like it's terrible to admit. ava is definitely annoying, but even you have eyes. 'yes, we all know after having to watch you fumble around during one meeting that you think ava is pretty.'
'and,' she says, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck, 'he's smart, and funny, and has an amazing palette.'
'well, he better.' you deflate a little; it's disarming to see beatrice this nervous, especially when it has nothing to do with her food being reviewed or rated. 'listen, beatrice,' you say, trying your very hardest to be gentle, just this once, 'this menu is gorgeous. i came up with eighty percent of it —'
'— you did not —'
'— so i can assure you that ava will love it, and that we can pair wines that will be excellent. and don't tell anyone i said this, or i legitimately will kill you, but you're an... impressive person. you're a remarkable chef. ava would be a fool to not see that.'
beatrice lets out a big breath. 'okay.'
'plus, it's kind of fun to see you trip all over yourself because of a crush.'
'i'm going to go change now.'
'yes, because you spilled because of a crush.'
'see you later, lilith.'
'yeah, yeah,' you say. 'i'll make sure to overcook the egg noodles, just for you.'
/
it's your fault, for sure, because you said yes to doing the food at their wedding — to make it worse, excitedly. it's gorgeous and it's a huge pain in your ass because there's, like, every cool chef in the world there, and a ton of Wine People, and beatrice has been traveling with ava filming something, so you've been running the restaurant. but still, beatrice gives you a hug and ava, terribly, kisses your cheek. they're both beautiful, and their backyard is full of edible flowers and herbs and vines with wine grapes. at one point, beatrice snags you by the hand to dance with her, which you protest for posterity and eventually give up on, as you always would have anyway. as you always have.
'thank you,' she says, 'for this. it's the best meal i've ever eaten.'
'i'm certain that's not true.'
she shakes her head; she's tan and has more freckles than you've ever seen on her, stretching across her cheeks — they'd gotten to film in brazil, apparently, where ava is from. but here it is, really: the whole world, right there, and beatrice has chosen to love you. she's chosen to want you as her sister, and you have always chosen her back.
'i'm really glad you're happy.'
'thank you,' she says. 'i am so happy.'
you roll your eyes. 'i know. it's nauseating.'
'lil.'
'after all of this, i want two weeks off when you're back from your honeymoon.'
'done.'
'well, a positive outcome, at the very least.'
she laughs.
'it's my fault, anyway. if i had just found a less beautiful, boring, straight sommelier...'
'i'm going to go dance with my wife now,' she says. 'love you.'
'yeah, yeah.' you squeeze her hand, linger for a moment in how softly she says wife, just because it's gentle and sweet and you don't hate seeing her this happy. 'love you too.'
#wn#wn fic#avatrice#avatrice fic#before anyone asks no i will not write them romantically i simply do not have the desire or the range lol#but i guess in this entirely unplanned universe they are Sisters! Partners! In a v particularly fond kind of love!#bea n lilith grumbling soulmates#restaurant au
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🦄The Sims 4🦄
🍕Pizza Bundle🍕
💕Early Release 6.17.2024💕
Domino's
Our roots date back to a single store that opened in 1960 in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Since then, Domino’s has grown to become a global brand known for innovation. Domino’s is a purpose-inspired and performance-driven company with exceptional people committed to feeding the power of possible, one pizza at a time. At the heart of our brand is a set of values founded on integrity and putting people first - our customers, suppliers, and team members – that serve as our compass as we manage our business. Today, we're in 19,200+ global stores and counting. Bringing pizza to every corner of the world takes a talented team of individuals across our brand. So the brand is always on the lookout for fun, smart and passionate people.
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Marco's Pizza
We’re committed to growth–ours and yours. We provide training and support for you to grow both personally and professionally while making an impact in your community. Our culture is all about a people-first approach that ensures team members are respected, supported and empowered–and guests always get a great experience. We’re fired up and friendly, with a passion for doing things right. You can be proud of where you work and what you create while working along side people you respect and enjoy.
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Pizza Hut
At Pizza Hut, we don’t just make pizza. We make people’s days. Pizza Hut was built on the belief that pizza night should be special, and we carry that belief into everything we do. What’s our purpose at Pizza Hut? Moments of Excitement. All made possible by our flavor, innovation and, most importantly, by unlocking potential in our team members. With more than 55 years of experience under our belts, we understand how to best serve our customers through tried and true service principles. Instead of following trends, we set them. We create food we’re proud to serve and deliver it fast, with a smile. We’re the people who first delivered pizza to the White House. We put a pizza in outer space. We took social media by storm. Our ordering app was featured in an iPhone commercial. Pizza Hut stands for bold innovation.
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Papa John's
Papa John’s International, Inc. opened its doors in 1984 with one goal in mind: BETTER INGREDIENTS. BETTER PIZZA.® Papa John's believes that using high quality ingredients leads to superior quality pizzas. Its original dough is made of only six ingredients and is fresh, never frozen. Papa John's tops its pizzas with real cheese made from mozzarella, pizza sauce made with vine-ripened tomatoes that go from vine to can in the same day and meat free of fillers. It was the first national pizza delivery chain to announce the removal of artificial flavors and synthetic colors from its entire food menu. Papa Johns is co-headquartered in Atlanta, Ga. and Louisville, Ky. and is the world’s third-largest pizza delivery company with more than 5,500 restaurants in 50 countries and territories as of Sept. 26, 2021.
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Who Are You (Really?)
a dead plate hannibal au
AUX: misery meat - sodikken
Credit: @lcg-lgc
Rody felt his feet skid on the floor as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. A litany of curses filled his head as he frantically checked his watch. I have to be in Quantico in 15 minutes . Vincent had held him late showing him his latest dish, deer tartare topped with a quail egg, where do you even get deer? The beautifully plated tartare turned into a weird slush in his backpack, and just as he went to hop onto his Vespa, it sputtered and died. To try to revive the motorcycle, he attempted to hit the side with his heel. All the key did was spark in the ignition. So, Rody had to make a run for it home.
The cherry on top was getting a call from Jack just as he was frantically untying his shoes, hands fumbling, he answered the phone,
“We have a new case, we're hoping you could be in the lab in 10,” Jack said tersely, leaving no room for complaint.
“Yeah, yeah of course”
Rody took what might be the fastest shower ever, checking his watch, panicking as every minute seemed to pass by slightly faster than the last. Stumbling, he reached blindly into his questionably clean pile of clothes. The haste resulted in a ratty flannel, with a stain of fish guts on the right cuff, and a pair of washed jeans.
Rody walked through the doors of Quantico with 30 seconds to spare,
“Now, Jack, what do you need me so urgently for…”
His voice trailed off as he saw what, or who was on the evidence table. He drew a breath. She was the sixth victim in the last two months and just the same as the five before her; wind-chafed, plain but pretty with auburn hair, trademark Minnesota Shrike. Jack continued his spiel,
“We need you on the case, you’re the best we have,”
Rody wrought his clammy hands,
“I can do this, but this is the last one, I have a life outside of this,”
Jack nodded,
“This will be the last one,” He put his hand on his heart, “Scout’s Honor”
He said that the last five times, Rody could only sigh as he preemptively mourned the next nights of sleep.
-
The file felt like it was made of lead in his backpack as he headed towards his shift at Vincent's restaurant. It was like the girls were holding onto his ankles as he scurried around, serving and bussing. The only time he got a moment to think was when he was taking out the trash. The cold air bit his cheeks as he fought to open the dumpster without covering himself in trash juice. He thought about her , the crime scene as it came back hit him like a semi-truck. Her pale limbs seemed to reach for him as he tried to close the dumpster, the slam rung in the twilight like a death knell.
Just as he bussed the last table, Vincent came up to him with another elaborate dish, presented with an almost bow,
“This Antelope is served with stewed collard greens and deglazed carrots,”
“Antelope?”
“Yes, My supplier got some exotic cuts recently,”
“Cool…”
As Rody trailed off he took the dish in his sweaty palms. Being around Vincent was like being around a caged lion. Held back by his instincts and fear, but still scary nonetheless. Vincent was all grace and long limbs as he presented Rody with the Antelope. Rody nervously laughed,
“I feel all this effort for plating is going to waste, when in my backpack it all runs together,” Vincent almost balked,
“No, sometimes the plating isn't just to enjoy, it is to see the result, beauty in the infinitesimal,”
Rody quickly took the dish and scraped it into his stained tupperware and bid Vincent goodbye as he hopped on his Vespa, the Antelope already shaken in his ragged backpack.
-
That night, the light of the desk lamp was drilling into his already tired eyes, clammy hands pushing back auburn curls as the words inside the file all swam together. His computer was open to College directories to try to track down the Minnesota Shrike’s next victim. In the field, Rody was painfully average. He was an okay shot, and could collect evidence as well as the next, but what he was given acclaim for, was for his focus. When he was given a case, it was all he could think about, he would throw himself wholeheartedly into the investigations.
Rody’s dreams were full of deer with bloody antlers, dark and shifting. He turned over and saw her, next to him, glassy eyed; mouthing words Rody couldn't understand. Rody bolted upright, patting the bed, checking for unwanted companions. Instead, all he found was his ratty comforter and a shirt he accidentally left out on the bed. Rody shivered nonetheless, taking a hot shower to quell the goosebumps.
Poking at his now much more pronounced eyebags, He buttoned his white dress-shirt up. Donning the black slacks and socks required by Vincent. Picking up his backpack on his way out, and hopping on his Vespa, he sped off to work.
-
Rody wasn't able to look at the case until early afternoon. It was the tail end of the morning rush and not yet lunch, so the only people in the restaurant were an elderly couple who were brunch regulars. He chewed on his already abused ballpoint pen, red ink staining his lips like fresh blood. There was an idea sloshing in his frontal cortex. Maybe the girl in the field wasn't the Shrike’s victim. Even though it followed the previous patterns, something was off. He drummed his fingers on the lacquered table in thought.
He was startled when Vincent put his hand down next to him and looked over Rody’s shoulder like the nosey person he is. Rody tried to cover up the file, it was classified FBI information.
“I think I’ve seen that before, maybe on the news, this one seems different from the others,” noted Vincent.
“That’s why I think this is a Copycat Killer,”
“What evidence showed you that conclusion?”
Rody thought about how to phrase his answer as not to come across like he was insane,
“This one just felt different, the Shrike, he loved those girls but this Copycat, the body was treated like livestock. This Copycat is a killing machine, he sees these girls not as objects of love, but as pigs,”
Vincent looked lost in thought and just as he was going to remark, a party of 8 came through the door. Personable Vincent was gone and now it was Chef Vincent as he went back to his lair in the kitchen. Rody went back to the meek bubbly server.
The dish that night was cold-smoked pork with a side of roasted mexican street corn. Vincent had changed the meals to be better eaten cold, still presented with the same beauty and care. Given the reverence of a in-house shrine to a forgotten god, dusted and maintained but without the original purpose. Even though the god was gone, Rody could still taste the care and reverence in the food. He could even see Vincent painstaking basting the pork and smelling the wood chips. He felt the microwave annihilated the flavor, but cold pork seemed worse.
-
Rody smiled sheepishly, the Shrike’s file had gotten stained from a wayward piece of corn. Before Jack could yell at him for staining evidence, Rody gave a peace offering of new insight,
“Jack, he loves these girls, the body in the field isn't the Shrike, it’s a Copycat, I just needed to see the Copycat to see what made the Shrike,”
Jack looked at him, nodding,
“Any insight into where the Shrike is from. What he does,” He punctuated with a handwave.
Rody nodded vigorously,
“Yes, yes, the Shrike is a man, he is a father, he loves those girls not in a… sexual way. But, as daughters, as things he could never keep,”
Jack seemed satisfied with Rody’s insights thus far,
“We had forensics look into the wounds and clothes of the victims, they found some pipe-threading metal. We have a lead,”
He seemed happy at that, the cat in the game had zeroed in on the mouse. Rody had neglected to mention Vincent’s insight on the Copycat. Letting himself bask in the warm light of victory and appreciation a little longer.
-
Now that forensics made a lead, Rody was taking his ‘work’ to work. Worn backpack overstuffed with the resumes from every single pipe-threader in Minnesota. His Vespa skidded as he turned into the restaurant's parking lot with 5 minutes to spare. Unceremoniously shoving his bag into his locker, he clocked in.
Rody felt dead on his feet this shift. Customers were more snappy than usual, it seemed they were sending every other plate back to the kitchen. The dress shoes Vince insisted he wear pinched even more. Rody was over it. The cherry on top was spilling the dozen of resume files all over the sticky breakroom ground. Of course, Vince had to be there to witness Rody’s frantic shoving of the files back into his locker.
“More ‘top secret’ FBI files Rody? You’re getting sloppy…”
“These are just resumes,” Rody shot back defensively.
“Still looking for the Shrike?” Vincent glanced down at the pictures of the workers.
“Yeah, we just got a lead, the Copycat really helped,” Rody admitted.
For a few seconds, Rody deliberated, should I tell him my hunch…Or just keep it to myself .
“So, off the record, you wanna know what I think about the Copycat?”
Vincent looked more invested than usual in Rody’s ‘crime shenanigans’, actually making eye contact, and blase barely-recognition,
“Sure, what has your brain cooked up this time?”
Rody almost vibrated, this was the first time testing his ‘theory’
“So, I think this Copycat is the Chesapeake Ripper. What I felt, when I saw her in the field, was unique to the Ripper murders I saw when I was in training. He holds so much contempt for them, it was almost palpable,”
Vincent’s eyes widened, he cocked his head,
“Really, how intriguing,”
He added nothing else, and spun on a heel, disturbing the piles of paper. Rody sighed and went to cram them back into his locker.
The dinner-rush was a fraction of the hell of the afternoon, it was about as nice as working in customer service, so hell but in like the cold circle. Customers were heavy tippers as they left, dresses sparkling in the fluorescent lights. The dish offered to him tonight was a ‘breakfast’ for dinner with homemade sausage. Into the tupperware it went. The lid snapped as Rody hummed the Bach that was playing earlier.
-
At home, the scramble was reheated as he poured over the resumes, little progress was being made. Everybody looked the same, nothing was out of the ordinary. Just as he was going to give up, words began to run together in his tired brain. He saw something, a lead. Rody traced the letters and under his breath said,
“Garret Jacob Hobbs, there’s my Minnesota Shrike,” a daughter that was wind-chafed and had brown hair, a carbon-copy of all the other girls. No address was listed, but Rody went up that weekend to do some house to house interviews. Vincent was with him, Rody had to borrow his car, and Vince didn't trust him to drive. Looking at his Vespa, it made sense. They were at the office at the construction site Rody got the papers from, Rody was talking to the lady who worked there about if she knew anything about Hobbs. Turns out he lived only a 5-minute drive away from where they were.
He and Vince pulled into the gravel driveway, tires crunching. The house was dated, with 70s style window panes and faded drapes. A man looked to be on the phone inside with a silhouette of another shorter woman. Rody laid his hand on his holster in preparation, and knocked. Presenting his temporary badge,
“This is agent Rody Lamoree, FBI, come out with your hands up,”
Hearing nothing from inside the house, Rody extended his arms into the weaver stance, looking down the sight of the gun. Then, he and Vincent went into the Kitchen and saw Hobbs with his daughter. He was holding a knife to her neck, as she mouthed words too fast for Rody to read her lips. Hobbs leveled a stare at Rody as he shook, he was always too squeamish to work homicide.
Vincent stood behind him like a shadow, observing as Rody panicked. Then, the silence broke like shattering glass as Rody shot Hobbs in the hand leaving the man reeling. Hobbs’s back hit the cabinet with a thud as the other gunshots echoed. After his ears stopped ringing, Rody heard Abigail choking on the ground, her throat gaping open, blood spilling out onto the linoleum floor, her chest stilled.
Rody heard a low whistle, he startled as he remembered Vincent was standing behind him, Vince spoke,
“10 bullets Rody? You’re getting rusty, what happened to your academy days?”
“ Well , getting stabbed in your shoulder will do that do you,”
“Anyways, let's call the police and get in the car, I have to make the marinade for the pork tomorrow,”
The Police showed up minutes later, lights flashing and sirens blaring. That night Rody couldn't sleep, Abigail showing up behind his eyes, mouthing and pleading as she bled out. All Rody wanted to do that morning was stay in bed, but the bills won’t pay themselves. So, up he went, sipping his drip-coffee and blindly stabbing at his soggy eggs, eyes still bleary. Rody spaced out, just as he was nodding off at the table his chin hit his chest, and he snapped awake, he looked at the clock,
“I’m late, my god , Vincent is gonna kill me,”
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Elevate Your Culinary Business with the Best Commercial Kitchen Equipment in Kenya
In the world of hospitality, the kitchen is the heart of any operation. From restaurants and hotels to catering businesses, the quality of your commercial kitchen equipment can make or break your culinary success. In Kenya, where the food industry is booming, having reliable, efficient, and high-performing equipment is essential to meet customer expectations and stay ahead of the competition.
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According to Helsingin Sanomat, MPs are complaining about the poor workload distribution in the Parliament due to the number of committees assigned to each member.
"There are simply too many committees, or there are too few members. I belong to five committees or divisions, all of which require mandatory attendance," first-time MP Pauli Aalto-Setälä (NCP) wrote in a recent blog post.
Over the past 30 years, the number of committees in Parliament has significantly increased, leading representatives to generally serve as full members of two committees, plus alternate memberships.
Former Speaker Matti Vanhanen (Cen) told HS he hoped representatives would voice their concerns on the matter. Vanhanen tried to reform committee work during his tenure but was unsuccessful.
"The current system is completely absurd, hopping from one committee to another," he said.
Parliament members conduct legislative work in committees that typically meet on plenary session days, before the sessions begin at 2 pm.
Aalto-Setälä is a regular member of the Environment Committee and two divisions of the Finance Committee. He also is an alternate member of the Commerce Committee and the Grand Committee.
"Meetings often overlap, making it impossible to fulfil one's responsibilities properly. One, or at most two, committees would suffice for each representative," Aalto-Setälä said.
This situation is problematic when a committee needs a specific number of representatives for a quorum. During budget discussions, committee members have unusually heavy workloads.
This year, numerous budget-related legislative proposals have piled up in the Social Affairs and Health Committee, where member Ville Merinen (SDP) recently took sick leave, citing an "sick" work environment.
Vanhanen's proposal to reduce the number of required members in each committee failed due to opposition from smaller parties that would lose equal representation in the bodies.
Immigration-fuelled population growth
Just three years ago, Statistics Finland projected that the country's population would begin to decline by 2034.
However, Ilta-Sanomat reports that the agency's latest population forecast says that net immigration is sufficient to maintain Finland's population growth.
If net immigration remains at its current level, Finland's population could reach 6.5 million by 2070, according to the forecast.
Its 2024 forecast anticipates that the working-age population will increase by nearly 300,000 by 2040, peaking at around 3.84 million in the early 2050s.
Foreign meat at Kotipizza
Finland's largest pizza chain, Kotipizza, which has always emphasised its strong domestic sourcing, has made a surprising decision to include foreign meat in its offerings. Maaseudun Tulevaisuus was the first to report on the matter.
According to information on Kotipizza's website, the meat used in its products is no longer 100 percent domestically sourced. In November, the chain will introduce a new pizza featuring nduja sausage produced by a Danish meat producer, with meat sourced from Denmark, Germany and Poland.
Kotipizza said its decision stems from the chance to participate in international ingredient sourcing tenders through its parent company, the Norwegian Orkla Group, which acquired the chain in 2019.
According to the paper, Kotipizza may increase its use of foreign meat as it is currently tendering for chicken, salami, pepperoni, ham and bacon, with both domestic and international suppliers involved in the procurement process.
"In recent years, inflation and cost pressures in particular have affected how we can simultaneously ensure reasonable prices for our products and the profitability of our restaurant operators," Kotipizza said on its website.
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