#she's been baking sourdough bread since quarantine started

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[enigmalynne]

Quarantine Kitchen - an SPN FanFic featuring Crowley

Title – Quarantine Kitchen Pairings – Crowley, Sam, Dean Word Count – 2,467 Warnings - None Square filled – Crowley Prompt: A villain’s plans are thwarted by a virus rampaging the globe. Now that they must remain inside and their plans have been ruined, they’re forced to pick up a hobby.

Crowley stormed into his chambers, the fury rolling off him.

“Somebody find Pestilence. Search every hospital and clinic on this God-forsaken planet and find that bloody horseman. Only he has the power to create a disease that would shut everything down and force everyone to remain in their homes,” he bellowed. Demons around him cowered. Crowley looks around at the many demons who weren’t moving. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

“Sire, it… according to the news reports, it wasn’t Pestilence that did it,” one of the demons stuttered out. Crowley turned his narrowed eyes to the cowering demon who stepped forward to speak.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” he asked. “Who else could have possibly done this if it wasn’t Pestilence?”

“Well,” the demon said, feeling a little braver. “The news reports are saying it came from China.”

“China!?”

“Yes, sir… It’s related to China and a bat, or a monkey or something,” the demon explained, looking around to the others for support. Another demon nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s all over the world. Not just here,” the other demon said. Crowley turned and faced them, pointing at the demon.

“You’re telling me that some wanker in China played with a bat or a monkey, and he caused this disease? And it’s all over the world? Is everyone shut down??” Crowley raged. The demons took a step back, fearing for their lives, as they nodded.

“Pretty much, yeah,” one of them said. Crowley’s eyes narrowed.

“Show me.”

A few hours later, Crowley sat at his ornate desk in dejection. Not only did he learn about how bad this coronavirus was, he realized just how checked out with national news he had become during his battles with the Winchester brothers.

“Their hoarding toilet paper and bleach,” he said, reading articles on his computer. The demon sitting next to him nodded.

“They are telling people they can only leave their homes to get food if they can’t get it delivered. Thousands of people have already died from this,” the demon said. Crowley scowled as he continued scanning the news page.

“Why didn’t we think of something like this?” he muttered under his breath. The demon beside him began to respond, causing Crowley to throw a hand up. “It was a rhetorical question! How long are we supposed to be secluded in our homes?”

“We... I don’t know?” the demon responded timidly. Crowley turned narrowed eyes toward him. “There hasn’t been a time defined yet. Just that we are to quarantine until further notice to keep ourselves safe from catching the virus ourselves.”

“Bollocks.”

One month turned into two, then four, then six. Crowley was starting to go stir crazy with being restricted to only his chambers. He’d already been through his Netflix queue, a streaming service his subjects set up for him. He’s read everything in his library. The internet was boring for a man like him, video games left him disinterested, and killing his demons was leaving him less and less satisfied.

“Why not pick up a hobby?” one of his most loyal subjects, Nya, asked him.

“A hobby,” Crowley deadpanned. Nya nodded.

“Sure. There are all kinds of things we could try our hands at,” she suggested with a shrug. Crowley turned to her with a raised brow.

“What do you suggest?” he questioned her.

“Well, there’s painting or writing. If you want to do something more challenging, you could try your hand at sewing your own clothing,” Nya said with a smirk. Crowley glared at her with fire in his eyes. “Didn’t think so. What about baking bread?”

“Baking bread?”

“Yeah,” Nya said. “It’s a big thing right now topside. Bread and other baked goods are pretty scarce because of all the hoarding, so more and more people are trying their hand at making it themselves.”

“Bread,” Crowley said again. Nya nodded.

“We’re running out of people for you to kill, Sire. Let’s try it.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

It was a challenge for Nya and Crowley at first. Gathering the ingredients to bake their first loaf of bread was a challenge since shelves at the stores were empty. Thankfully, Nya was able to track down things like flour and yeast. After they had all their ingredients, the two went into the top-of-the-line kitchen Crowley had installed and got to work.

Following the instructions Nya printed off the internet, Crowley went through the steps of making a loaf of banana bread. As it baked in the oven, Nya put together a Sourdough starter.

“The hell is that?” Crowley asked her.

“It’s the starter for sourdough,” she replied. Crowley lifted a brow.

“Sourdough needs a starter? It isn’t a car, my dear,” he replied. Nya smirked at him as she stirred the flour and warm water with a fork.

“It’s so cute you think you know anything about baking,” Nya said. “I’ll take care of the starter, and in 7 days we’ll be ready to make our sourdough.”

“No, you don’t get to dismiss me, bint,” Crowley snarked. “You’re the one who got me into this baking mess. You explain this.” Nya laughed, the sound light and easy as it echoed in the kitchen. The sound startled the King of Hell, though he didn’t show it.

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she replied. She then went on to explain why they needed a starter and the science behind the baking. Crowley listened curiously, his attitude shifting slightly.

“Where did you learn to bake?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her explanations. Nya’s smile shifted to something more nostalgic.

“Before. A long time ago, before crossroad deals and hell,” she said, turning and putting the jar of sourdough starter in a cabinet next to the refrigerator. “It was something I did when my family was still very young and very new. It makes the time go by very quickly.”

Just then, a timer rang out, and Nya turned to the oven. Crowley watched as Nya picked up the oven mitts, opened the oven door, and removed the pan of banana bread. The smell that came from the browned bread was intoxicating, and Crowley’s mouth instantly started watering.

Nya took the loaf out of the pan and sliced two thick pieces of bread, setting each on a plate. She placed a fork on one before handing it to Crowley, a brow quirked. He took it eagerly.

“Bon appetite,” Nya said, digging into her piece. The light moan that came from Crowley as he chewed his first bite brought warmth to Nya’s chest.

“Okay,” Crowley said. “Maybe there is something to this baking thing.”

While the two waited for the sourdough starter to prepare, Nya showed Crowley how to bake some of her other favorite things: muffins, brownies, easy loaves of bread, cookies, and various types of scones (which was a big hit for the British demon). It was the day before the starter would be ready when Crowley came in with a request.

“Can you show me how to make a pie?” he questioned. Nya looked at him in surprise as she tied on her apron.

“A pie?” she asked. Crowley nodded a little self-consciously.

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you know how to make one?” Nya nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I know how to make one. I’m just curious why you want to make one. We have plenty of sweets already,” she said, waving a hand at the mountains of pastry boxes that littered the kitchen counters. Crowley bristled and lifted his chin, but Nya spoke before he could speak.

“What kind of pie do you want to try?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said instantly. Nya nodded. She pulled out a notepad and started writing down a list of items they needed, then handed it to Crowley.

“Get me those items, and we can make an apple pie,” she said with a smirk. Crowley nodded and shouted for one of his lesser demons, sending him on a shopping trip.

An hour and a half later, the two were eating slices of homemade apple pie while a second was baking in the oven. The kitchen soon filled with the scent of apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Crowley had his eyes closed as he chewed a bite of the pie. Nya turned and saw him, freezing in her actions.

“Hey!” she snapped. Crowley startled, eyes opening wide in fear.

“I told you to wait for the whipped cream!” she snarked. Nya started stirring the whip inside the metal bowl she had in her hand again while glaring at Crowley. His expression turned sheepish as he finished chewing and swallowed the bite of the pie.

“I’m sorry, love,” Crowley purred. “It just smelled so good, and I made it makes it taste so much better.”

Nya smirked at him in understanding, setting the bowl down between them. She scooped a dollop of the whipped cream, dropping it on top of his piece of the pie. She smirked before doing the same to her piece.

“Now try it,” she said, picking up her fork. Crowley scooped up a bit of the white cream then stabbed a large section of the apple pie. The cool cream against the warm apples and flaky crust melted in his mouth, and a slight moan escaped him.

“I get why Squirrel loves his pies so much if all of them taste like this,” Crowley groaned out, digging into another bite. Nya’s smile turned to understand.

“I thought that’s why we did this pie,” she said softly. Crowley shot the woman a look, and she gave him a shrug.

“You have a sweet spot for them; I get it. Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, just as the timer started to go off. She stuffed another bite of her slice of pie into her mouth before turning to stop the timer and grab the oven mitts. She pulled the pie out, admiring the lattice pattern she walked Crowley through making.

“Besides,” she started, showing Crowley the pie. “Look what we get out of it.” Crowley looked over the pie as Nya slid the third one into the oven and set the timer. Crowley smiled, feeling proud of himself in a completely different way.

“Okay! Today’s the day, Crowley!” Nya said. “Ready to make some sourdough?”

“Just tell me what the steps are,” he said, tying his apron around his waist. The two moved fluidly in the kitchen together, Nya giving him instructions and Crowley doing everything smoothly.

“Now squish the mixture together with your hands,” Nya said. Crowley gave her a disgusted look causing her to laugh. “Just get your hands dirty, big man.”

“Let it sit for 30 minutes for autolyze, and then we let it rise. While that’s happening, we can make something else if you want,” Nya said as Crowley washed his hands. He dried his hands with a dish towel, tossing it over his shoulder when he finished.

“Let’s make another batch of the dough. Then, we can make some more scones, and perhaps some clotted cream,” he suggested. Nya nodded as the two got to work. Four hours later, there were orange and cranberry scones cooling on some racks in the corner with icing drizzled on them, the cream was in the fridge, and they were moving back to the bread. Crowley and Nya had their dough separated for two loafs each.

“You can set it in any different way you like. You can make it a round loaf or an oval one or set it for any design you like,” Nya said. Crowley made one of his loaves into a round one inside a Dutch oven, scoured through the center; the other put in a loaf pan. Nya chose to make individual loaves with hers.

Roughly an hour later, the first loaf was out of the oven and ready for tasting. Crowley sliced the first loaf, steam rising from the bread filling the kitchen with a delicious scent. He handed a slice to Nya, and they both took bites of the bread. Crowley’s eyes lit up at the taste of the bread.

“This is amazing,” he said. Nya nodded.

“And you made it yourself,” she said with a smile.

The two spent the rest of the day cooking their sourdough. By the end of the day, they had loaves, buns, and rolls that were all made from the sourdough starter Nya had made. She showed Crowley how to feed the starter so it would continue to grow, and he could make more bread later.

“We need to get rid of some of this stuff; we’re getting a little full in here,” Nya said, taking a bite of a scone as she looked around the kitchen. Crowley looked around himself, a smile forming on his face.

“Who sent this?” Sam asked. Dean showed him the card.

“Crowley,” he replied, looking over the giant basket of baked goods. There were muffins and scones, bread and rolls, brownies and cookies. “Said he was going crazy during the quarantine and found a hobby. Needed to clear out some space.”

“And he… made all of this?” Sam asked, looking over the pastries. Dean shrugged.

“I guess? Wait, is that a pie?!” he responded, snatching the apple pie from the basket. Sure enough, there in the mix was an apple pie. Dean wasted no time ripping off the plastic wrap. He brought the pie to his face and inhaled deeply, groaning out his pleasure.

“You’re not gonna eat that, are you?” Sam questioned. Dean looked at him incredulously.

“Damn right, I am, Sammy. It’s pie,” Dean said, turning to get a fork. Sam raised a brow at his back.

“From CROWLEY!” he shouted.

“He’s not going to kill us by sending us a care package, have a little faith. Read the card,” Dean shouted from the kitchen. Sam sighed, picking up the card and reading.

Moose and Squirrel –

I’ve discovered a new hobby thanks to this bloody mess China has given us. The more I learn, the more I make, and it seems I’ve made too much. Perhaps this can be a temporary truce until we can leave our homes again.

Cheers – Crowley

“I don’t know who taught him to bake, but his pie is amazing,” Dean said with a mouth full. He plopped down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table next to the basket. Sam shook his head, tossing the card on the table with a sigh. The scones did look good, he thought. He grabbed one that looked like it had orange zest in it and took a tentative bite.

“Wow,” he muttered, looking at his brother. Dean nodded.

“I know,” Dean said.

“So, what do you want to learn next?” Nya asked. Crowley just smiled.

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.2]

Masterlist

Eva clung especially tightly to Pluto as she followed Remington back to the front gate, her cheeks burning red hot with humiliation. It didn't help either that this kid happened to be wickedly handsome and sans shirt all the while.

Remington wasn't so bothered by the incident, worse case scenario he could convince the guys to order a pizza like he was craving. Nonetheless, he didn't blame Eva; he tried to put that across by keeping the friendly smile on his face and putting her at ease.

"You know, it's not a big deal -- with the food and everything," he assured her, "We'll just order a pizza or something,"

Eva shrugged, "I know. It's just -- you know, I guess this isn't how I expected everything was going to go," she said, "Moving is tough enough with everything going on, and now it seems I got to get a play cage for this little monster,"

Remington patted the top of Pluto's head, "He's not so bad, just a little hungry. Cute little guy, aren't ya?" The pale tabby closed his eyes and rubbed his scruffy head against his palm.

Eva smiled a little, "He likes you. You should be honored, he doesn't warm up to strangers so easily,"

"Well of course he likes me. We have the same hair colour," Remington grinned, subconsciously running a hand through his black and blonde hair.

"You could be twins," Eva chuckled sardonically.

Remington opened the gate for her, "So... do you like the neighbourhood?" he asked.

"It's nice so far," Eva nodded, "I'm still unpacking all my boxes and shit so I haven't really had the opportunity to explore. And given the circumstances and... I -- I forgot my face mask too, fuck,"

Remington shrugged, swallowing the ball of nerves creeping up his throat, "You look pretty healthy to me," he said.

Eva smiled politely, hoping she could attribute the flush in her cheeks to the heat. There was something about him, he was familiar to her. She didn't come right out and say it, perhaps he just had one of those faces one sees and recognizes from somewhere else.

"Well, I should get going. And tell those guys I'm sorry again," she said, walking backwards to the sidewalk.

Remington simply shook his head, "Honestly, don't even give a second thought. Welcome to the neighbourhood, Eva"

"Thank you, Remington,"

There was something about the way his name rolled off of her tongue that sounded so sweet to him. He continued to stand at the gate and watched the pretty young girl cross the street and back into the apartment courtyard. Eva turned and took one last fleeting glance, a zing of electricity zipping down her spine when she saw Remington was still standing there.

Slamming the door to her apartment, she placed Pluto back on the floor, washed her hands thoroughly, and went back to her kitchen to continue with her baking exploits. She tied an apron around her waist, pulled out her ingredients and tried to find a good recipe on her phone. She also made sure to close the window.

She was unbothered when Pluto jumped onto the counter and took a seat, staring at his owner curiously. Eva stared at him just as intently, having half the mind to shoo him off the countertop. He seemed to almost be smiling at her.

"And what are you looking at, sausage thief?"

Some days passed; days filled with doing absolutely nothing. If everything was normal, Palaye Royale would have been smack in the middle of their European tour. Instead, Remington was sitting in his room, bored out of his mind as he continued to press the buttons on his xbox controller. He had played this game so many times, it was too easy. The challenge was gone.

Today was Friday, another Friday that was filled with perpetual boredom and misery. Riding around on his scooter wasn't fun, video games weren't fun, even trying to annoy Emerson wasn't as fun. There was little drive for him to do the bare minimum; it was just an achievement alone that he forced himself to shower this morning.

Lying back on his bed, he stared up at the empty ceiling, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. Maybe the time would go faster if he slept more, like a hibernating bear? However, the notion of sleep was swiftly yanked away when he heard the doorbell ring.

He groaned audibly and turned over, his dark brown eyes still shut tight, "Emerson! Someone's at the door!" he called. There was no response, not even the shuffling echo of feet. Was Emerson even home? Maybe he'd ordered something off Amazon again and conveniently forgot to tell Remington while he was out.

If it was a package and he'd missed it, he didn't want to hear Emerson going off about having to drag himself down to the post office to sign for it -- in a pandemic no less. A month in and this pandemic was already getting to be old news.

Nevertheless, Remington pulled himself out of bed and jogged downstairs, hoping the Amazon guy hadn't left yet. He didn't take into account that he was only in his indigo dotted shorts and nothing else, throwing open the door without a care. However, he was surprised to see a plastic bag at his feet, at the gate was Eva.

Eva had just pulled back the latch to the gate when she heard the door open, and she was no doubt taken aback to see Remington standing there... again without a shirt. He looked weary and tired, the complete opposite to Eva's glowing face and yellow summer dress.

"You're not the Amazon guy," Remington spoke candidly.

Eva cocked her head, "Uh, no. Afraid not," she shrugged, "You expecting a package?"

"No," Reming shook his head, "I mean, my brother might be, but he's not home and I have no... um, nevermind. What brings you over here?" he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, trying to collect himself a bit more.

Eva pointed to the bag at his feet, "I made some bread. The recipe made three loaves and I don't need that many carbs," she chuckled awkwardly, "I thought maybe you guys might like one?"

"Oh," Remington picked up the bag and pulled back the plastic, finding a round, crisp loaf of bread inside, probably a bit bigger than Mishka, "That's very nice of you,"

"I just felt bad about the other day --"

"I told you, it's no big deal,"

"I know," Eva nodded, scratching at the skin behind her ear, "I ... jeez. Just being neighbourly, I guess?"

"I'm the one who should be fucking neighbourly," Remington grinned, "You want to come in for a drink or something? ... Or maybe we should sit on the lawn instead? That's social distancing, right?"

Eva smiled sheepishly but shook her head, "I actually have to stop by my storage unit and pick up the rest of my things. I'm just looking for a Waive,"

"You don't have a car?" he asked.

"Well, it was either the apartment or the car, and I figure I can survive off public transit for the next little while," she replied.

It was then a truly incredible idea entered Remington's head, "... I can drive you over, if you want," he said.

Eva smiled graciously, "Oh no, that's okay. There's one up four blocks from here, and I don't want to be a bother," she replied.

"It's no bother at all," Remington grinned, "As long as I'm back in time for my set schedule of nothing, followed by nothing, and then more nothing," hey, it was at least a reason for him to get out of the house.

Eva crossed her left leg behind her right, clearly a little unsure. It wasn't advisable to get into a car with a stranger when circumstances were normal, and now couldn't have been an exception.

"I don't know, Remington,"

He could see the apprehension spread over her delicate face, and he didn't blame her for being on the edge. He wasn't even sure if she should've even been in his backyard the other day. Then again, he knew he was being safe, and as far as he saw Eva never went anywhere, or had anybody over.

"I get it if you're uncomfortable," he told her, "But I don't go anywhere. And the only people I ever really see are the people you met the other day. That's it. I just... I wanna' do everything right so we can go back to normal as soon as we can. And you seem like a nice girl and I would hate to know you're having to suck up quarantine by yourself,"

Eva took a minute to think it over. She glanced down the street, maybe thinking she could catch sight of the shared car her map was telling her was within a four-block radius. Then again, she wasn't all that comfortable having to use a car-sharing service since the pandemic started, but she couldn't take her stuff on the bus and she couldn't afford Uber rates. Besides, Remington was only one guy...

"... If you don't mind," she said finally, "Maybe we can just leave the windows down and have our masks on?

Remington tried to hold back the big grin that wanted to explode over his lips, "It's seventy-five degrees out, you bet your ass I'm gonna' have the windows down," he said, "I'll just go throw on a shirt,"

"Do you have a habit of going without a shirt?" she asked.

Remington smirked, "Only on Wednesdays... and when beautiful women happen to be around,"

Eva rolled her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. She actually found him to be quite charming, "Well, it's not Wednesday," she took a brief look around, "And there are no pretty girls here,"

"Oh, come on, don't sell yourself short, Eva," he winked coyly as he rewrapped the bread in the plastic, "Just outta' curiosity, is this --?"

"Sourdough," Eva nodded shyly.

"What is up with this sourdough fad?" he asked.

"I don't know," she threw her arms out, "I just wanted to fit in and be cool, I guess,"

"You named your cat after an Edgar Allan Poe book, you're already cool,"

Eva waited patiently outside as Remington dashed into his room. However, he stopped short when he found a post-it note was stuck to his door. He must've blown past it when he went to answer downstairs. It was notably written in Emerson's chicken scratch and he read it to himself.

"Remington, I'm off with Shy to the beach. Text me if you want to cook or do take out, unless of course I come home before you open your door... and you won't find this note," he glowered at the dark blue ink, "Seriously?"

About an hour later, having collected the rest of her boxes from storage, Remington followed Eva up three flights of stairs to her little corner apartment. Eva had a bit of a rough time trying to put the key in the lock without dropping her box, but she was finally able to get the door open and push her way inside. Pluto was in his bed, none too bothered by his owner's presence. It was only when he smelled the unfamiliar scent of men's soap and hair product that he turned his head to Remington.

He was quick to leap up and come trotting over, nearly scaring Remington out of his skin when he started rubbing up against his leg, "What the --? Oh, hi Pluto," he grinned at the pale and black-striped tabby.

Eva huffed at her cat, setting down her box and going to scoop him up, "Pluto! Let him in before you start whoring," He gave a yrowl of protest before he was dropped back into his bed.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's no problem," Remington wasn't shy about having a few glances around her small studio space. It was cozy, yet not fully furnished as the walls were still bare and her shelves were empty. On the right hand side, two perpendicular walls separated the kitchen space from the bedroom (it was more like a bed cubby), and on the other side she had a small couch with a glass coffee table, and beside that a desk that prescribed the definition of 'messy'. Looking out through a sliding door, Eva had a small balcony with two chairs and small dining table -- where she had a perfect view of his house.

"Please forgive the mess, too. I'm shit at organizing," Eva said, having now pulled down her blue medical mask so it rested under her chin. Remington did the same.

"It's definitely a lot cleaner than my place," he said, still gripping tightly the cardboard box, "Where would you like this?"

Eva set down her box on the kitchen counter, took a glance at the writing at the side before directing him, "Just down by the bookcase, is fine," and she started pulling apart her own box.

Remington set down his box and opened it as well, astonished and impressed to see rows of vinyls lined up and packed tightly. She had music that ranged from Billie Holiday to Harry Styles; some sleeves more worn down than others. Unable to help himself, Remington had a flip through her music, you could always best judge somebody by what they threw on the turntable. Remington's smile grew when he found his own record, Boom Boom Room Side A.

"You have good taste," he said, turning and holding up the vinyl.

Eva turned from her box full of novels, a tinge of red spreading over her cheeks when she saw him crouched over her music and holding a record. But when she realized the worn down sleeve was for Palaye Royale, it suddenly clicked in her mind where she'd seen Remington from. A small warmth flooded through her gut.

"I knew you looked familiar," she blushed, "Your hair's different, that's why I didn't recognize you,"

"I take it this is your only record of ours?" he smirked.

Eva shrugged, "It was a birthday present. I liked a lot of what I heard, though," she ruffled a hand through her short hair, "There was one song I heard and I just fucking loved it. It went something like... oh my gosh, like um..." she started humming the chorus to something that sounded like Mr. Doctor Man.

The melody was instantly recognizable to Remington, but he let her carry on longer than necessary to watch her, the giggle she let out while she hummed simply delicious. He could never sing that song the same way again after hearing that.

"I think that's supposed to be Mr. Doctor Man," he chuckled once she had stopped giggling.

Eva pointed a finger at him, "That's it! I loved it because it sounded like The Killers!" Eva couldn't believe she just hummed that song to Remington fucking Leith. She wasn't sure why she had let Palaye Royale fall off her radar, having remembered how much fun she had jamming to that vinyl in her old place. And the voice on Remington was so sexy, she couldn't help but be so enthralled by those raspy high and low notes he would hit.

"That's probably one of the best comparisons I've had, yet," he told her, "They also happen to originate from Vegas,"

Her cheeks were still burning but she lifted her eyes slowly back to his and gave a tentative smile, "What is it with all you cool rock bands coming out of Las Vegas?"

"Like they say; Vegas is built on hopes, dreams, and crazy people," he gave her a wide, toothy grin just to make his point.

"Who said that?" Eva asked.

"I don't know, but it makes a fuck ton of a sense," Remington replied, "Would you like me to put these in the shelf?" he pointed to the bookcase.

Eva shook her head, "No, you don't have to do that. You didn't even have to help me haul all this shit upstairs," she said.

"And leave a lovely lady to break her back on her own? My own mother would be so ashamed of me," he scoffed back, waving his hand at her, "And besides, as your new friend I insist on helping you out,"

Eva cocked her head, "So, you and I went from acquaintances to friends all within an hour and some?"

"Well, if you had hummed my song earlier, we would've been friends before Pluto even stole the sausage," Remington grinned, then glancing at the tabby, "No hard feelings, Pluto," The cat simply stared back at him.

He glanced back at Eva, "... Why does he keep staring at me?" he whispered.

Eva smirked, "He's a very personable cat. Either that, or he wants your shoes,"

"So, if I leave my sneakers on the stairs of my house, he'll come over and actually make a meal out of them?" he asked.

"I've lost so many shoes to this cat, I swear I have to keep them locked up in my closet," she replied.

Remington glanced at the cat again, narrowing his eyes as though to mockingly challenge the feline, whispering menacingly "I got my eye on you, bitch,"

[secondhand-trash]

Ashido Mina(BNHA)- Spring Flowers

A/N: I know that this is way earlier than the time I’m supposed to post this but I will be in an examination hall at that time so I decided to post it now uwu this is the fic I wrote for @bakuismybitch for the @/bnhaclaimedmysoul spring time event^^ sorry that I haven’t been messaging you as much as I should and that this falls short comparing to my other stuff, I kinda overestimated my ability to balance life qwq

Description: you might not be able to go out to enjoy spring as you want to but Mina is determined to bring spring to you.

Word count: 1735

When quarantine was first announced, Mina had expected that she would be the one badly hit by all this. She was the energetic one in this duo, the one that couldn’t go a day without being around other people and the one who wants to go out. If one of you would go insane because of being trapped inside he confines of your house, she could almost bet on her last existing brain cells that it would be her.

And oh boy was she wrong.

At first, you seemed to be rather indifferent by all this. “It would be fine,” you had said when her hands flailed around while she whined about how long it would be until you could do all the things you liked to do again, “there are plenty of things we can do while being inside!” You were the one who would make her get up early in the morning despite no longer having a schedule because you read that maintaining your regular habits was good for the mind. There were pages of home workout videos and craft tutorials on the search history of you browser, she was still astonished that you managed to find so many different way to sew puppets out of old socks. You had took upon yourself to make something different for lunch every single day and she had to practically beg you to stop baking after having sourdough for a week consecutively because you wanted to test out all sorts of recipes and fresh bread doesn’t last long. So, which she would now scold herself for being so stupidly optimistic but didn’t know any better at that point, she was truly convinced that the only issue you would have is the eventually shortage of space to accommodate all your creations that spawned from your boredom.

She knew that something was wrong the moment she woke up one morning and saw that it was way past the time you would usually wake her up at. It was a gradual change, but the more she picked up on your wilting spirit the more concerned she was. Lunch started repeating, you nearly forgot to feed your starter one week until she asked about the little jar of dough in your fridge, you started breaking ramen into pieces and call it a snack. She could see you physically spiraling down and it was very worrying to witness. 

The breaking point when she realised that she had to step in and pull you back was when she walked out of the room one night and saw you wrapping yourself under a cocoon made out of blankets with a nutella jar in your hand, your eyes an empty void as you stared at the glowing television. No lights on, no anything, just the pale light from the screen shining on your face and making you look so souless. Mina’s eyes travelled back and forth between your still frame and the television. Why were you watching the weather channel at 1?

“...Are you ok?”

No response, you didn’t even move. Gingerly, she climbed onto the couch next to you and gave your shoulder a light poke. “(y/n)?"

Nothing, not even a budge. You jumped when she called for your name again, this time louder and with a bit of a squeak to her voice. Clumsily, clutching the jar that nearly dropped, you coughed in embarrassment. “Oh, mina,” you chuckled almost too stiffly that it sounded more like a huff, “you’re still awake?”

“Yeah...” she narrowed her eyes, “what are you doing?”

“Ah, you see,” you put down the jar of chocolate spread, pilling the blanket away from your body as you gave your nose a light scratch before continue, sounding almost way too matter-of-factly considering how eerie this all was, “I was thinking that since we can’t go out, maybe I’ll imagine what it is like everywhere else to make it remind myself of what spring looks like.”

All the little cogwheels that had been spinning and spinning in her mind finally clicked into place when she realised what all of this was about. Spring, yes, it was spring already. She didn’t even remember that it was already a good quarter into the year with how long she had been staying in but you sure did. You had always thrived during spring, something about the smell of grass in the humid air and the warmth that was seeping back from the winter cold always put you in a constant good mood. So the fact that this bit of joy was no longer available had put you in a slump that you were sinking deeper and deeper into made total sense.

“Guess I should go to bed now,” you said nonchalantly, as if you weren’t staring at a slow motion shot of a random place in the world like a zombie just mere seconds ago. You collected the half-finished jar of nutella and hoisted the blanket in your arms, looking at your very dazed girlfriend like she was the one who was doing something weird, “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Mina said as she scurried up, thinking of what she could possibly do to stop you from finding comfort in the weather channel, “yeah.”

You woke up to the sound of pots banging and cabinet doors slamming shut, a squeal mixing in between at times. Your foggy morning mind was telling you to go back to bed, that you did not have the energy to handle whatever it was that your girlfriend was up to. But just as you were about to flip onto your other side and take up the now spared up vacancy on your luring mattress, a sharp screech followed by a series of profanities made every hair at the back of your neck stood up. You sighed, no longer feeling even an ounce of sleepiness and rolled so you were facing the ceiling.

You needed to go check if she is alive, didn’t you?

Poking your head from the door, you could see Mina carefully pinching a piece of bread with the very tip of her thumb and index finger. She was almost flinging it into the pan before quickly retreating her hand as fast as she could. The sizzling echoed through the kitchen and you watched as she poked the bread with the spatula with caution.

“Mina?” You tilted your head when she snapped her head up, yellow eyes widening when she saw your confused face, “What are you doing?”

She didn’t say anything so you looked past her shoulders to look at what’s in the frying pan. If anything, your confusion had only grown. The bread was soggy, the edges browning and sticking to the bottom of the pan. There were clear stains of what was put in there before left around the bottom, some already starting to burn into black char.

“Mina what are you making?” You asked and your girlfriend scratched the back of her neck rather sheepishly.

“This was supposed to be a surprise,” she said, “I was gonna make you breakfast.”

“Aw that’s so sweet!” You cooed and then you finally connected the dots of what she was trying to do deconstructing the kitchen so early in the morning, “Is this... French toast?”

“Yeah!” She chirped, literally scratching at the pan to flip the frying toast and it made your heart ache at how it was likely that you were to say goodbye to that pan after this, “Is it not obvious?”

You blinked, not having the heart to tell her that you would have no clue if you simply stare at the pile of burned bread that was placed on a plate. “Did you add any butter to the pan?” You asked, referring to the burn that stuck to the pan.

“...you need to do that?”

You chuckled, “Do you need help?”

“What? No!” She flailed her hands in the air as she tried to push you out of the kitchen, “Just chill around and wait for the food! This is about you, I don’t want you to even lift a finger!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, shooing you out of the kitchen, “It’ll be done in a few.”

“Ok,” you said rather skeptically, “just... call for me if you need anything.”

It didn’t take long for you to hear another groan from the kitchen and for Mina to weakly beckon you for help. You laughed, knowing exactly that this was bound to happen.

With a good square of butter in the pan and some relentless scraping later, you had the plates of toast on the table with a generous amount of syrup on top. You eyed Mina curiously when she didn’t sit down, running around the house and grabbing the computer in her hand.

“Mina what are you doing now?” You said, almost not sure if you find this amusing or confusing.

“You see,” she said as she turned on the computer, “I know that you like spring and you’re sad that we don’t get to experience the season, so I decided to do something fun and have a picnic indoors!”

You snorted when she pulled up a picture of the lily fields at a nearby park and placed it right by the table. A gif of butterflies on her phone which she carefully steadied with a mug. “You know how those youtubers like to use have a fake fireplace in their backdrop?” She said, seemingly pleased with her little set up, “I figured we can do the exact same thing but with flowers.”

This whole thing was a bit funny, if you were being honest but warmth bubbled up inside of you at the thought of Mina going out of her way just to make things a little bit more enjoyable for you. You laughed when she lined up your sock muppets and arranged them in a circle, going as far as to putting an empty cup in front of them.

“What is a picnic without friends?” She winked as she poured out a glass of orange juice for you. Raising her glass, you grinned at how hard she was trying to put on her serious face. 

“Cheers to spring?”

You smiled. The glowing screen might not even come close to the real thing, but you still felt the fresh giddiness that the spring flowers would always bring you.

“Cheers to spring.”

[feelingjane]

I wrote something, based on the prompt “I lost the baby” 

No, it’s not that. But it’s covid related somehow, just not tragic.

Oh, and it’s Poldark fanfiction, first time doing it eeeek!

Ross slowly opened his eyes. The morning light was still pale and he reveled in the thought of a few more hours of sleep. He had to be up at seven to feed the animals and sort out some pest problem in their apple orchard, but it was still not time to leave the bed and face the day.

He turned on his side, seeking the warmth of Demelza, but found only the covers lifted on her side. He lifted himself on an elbow to see if she was in the bathroom but the light wasn’t on. She was a natural early riser, a benefit to their line of work, but this was way too early even for her.

Then he heard noise in the kitchen, frowning he grabbed his phone and the lock screen said 5:32 am, along with the view of his red hair beauty glancing sideways at the camera while holding a puppy version of the dog they had rescued a few months ago, who now surely slept soundly on a basket near the fireplace in the library.

He got out of bed, idly scratching his beard and walked barefoot to the kitchen. Demelza was wrapped in a fluffy forest green robe, her long hair still in the messy braid she slept with. She was glancing at the window facing their farm and seemingly lost in thought.

He heard her sniffling and then a quiet sob broke his trance. He reached her, touching her shoulder.

“Love, what is it?” he asked softly, his voice still rough with sleep. Demelza stilled and hunched her shoulders a bit.

“Oh Ross, I’ve fucked it up” she said with her voice full of sorrow. Frowning in confusion, he slowly turned her to see her face. Her beautiful sea green eyes were brimming with tears, her cheeks red and wet, as well as her nose and her lower lip was trembling.

Confounded, Ross could only sweep his thumbs under her eyes, wiping her tears away.

“What are you talking about Demelza?”

“I lost the baby” she moaned and rested her forehead on his shoulder. His arms immediately went to her waist and held her close to him, his body seeking hers was a constant between them, a pull that had been the motor of their lives since the day they had their first date five years ago.

Still, Ross could not understand what she was talking about, they had no baby…yet. She took her pills every day and never missed one. It didn’t make sense that she had lost anything really.

“Demelza my love, what baby? Did you have a bad dream? Is that why you’re up so early?” Sometimes she had such vivid nightmares that she would wake up screaming, a much hated souvenir from her life under the “care” of her father who used to beat her every day.

She groaned and lifted her head, looking him in the eyes

“I killed Julia!” she cried and turned in his arms to reach the counter behind her. Ross kept one arm around her waist and moved to see what was stressing his beloved wife so much.

There, wrapped in a red yarn hand knitted cozy, was the jar of sourdough starter named Julia.

Demelza had been reading and investigating about homemade bread since the early days of quarantine, stating that commercial yeast would be one of the first items that would be difficult to find along chlorine, toilet paper, flour and eggs.

They had yeast in their house and she had been baking delicious bread and pastries with that, but a few days ago they were nearing the end of that package, and going out only to buy yeast had seemed unnecessary. So she began her quest to make a sourdough starter.

At first she would be feeding Julia and writing the process down on a notebook. He thought that making something new would be good for her, a distraction of sorts from the daily routine and the hard work they were doing.

But apparently, all her care was not enough, since Julia now had a layer of mold.

“Oh Ross, I forgot about her and forgot to feed her for…I don’t even know how many days!” she said “And I woke up thinking about her and now she is dead” She took a spoon from the drying rack and began to empty the starter on the trashcan. He smiled to himself and felt relief that at least it was something they could fix.

“It’s fine Demelza, you can make another one right?” he said and softly stroked her side to comfort her.

She sniffled once more and started to wash the jar in the sink “Yeah, I can. Is just..I hate to start again” she sighed and left the jar upside down on the rack.

She turned and smiled bashfully at him, chuckling a bit “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I lost it like that, is just flour and water”

“It’s stress, we are on edge and it has to go out somehow” he said, reaching for her again, pulling her close and kissing her softly on her cheeks and then her neck, breathing in her scent, “We have been working too hard you know, surely you don’t need to be on the phone at seven thirty every day” he kissed her neck again, enjoying her sighs and how her body fitted his so perfectly.

“We managed most of the orders for the week last night anyway, the baskets are already packed and sanitized” she said. They were making baskets of vegetables, eggs and preserves they made, delivering to neighbors now instead of restaurants, and even with the help of Demelza’s brother Drake making the drive back and forth between Nampara and the town nearby, they had their hands full.

“It’s still early, we could sleep a bit longer” he said. Demelza hummed and sneaked her hands under his shirt, scratching his back lightly, making him shiver and moan lowly. She knew that was a weak spot for him.

She kissed his mouth while stroking his back and walking them out of the kitchen, laughing when they tripped over a chair. She broke the kiss and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling but not from tears this time. He smiled at her and walked them back to their bedroom.

[bigmammallama5]

I've been wanting to make a sourdough starter ('cause that seems to be the thing you do in a worldwide quarantine) but I've read recipes that conflict each other; throw out half every day, don't do that but keep adding flour and water, leave it open to the air, cover it with a cloth, stir it every day, leave it alone. What the hell do you do?

disclaimer: im not a trained baker and all my info is based off of my own trial and error and research, so if something i say doesnt work for you dont worry!

Okay so the biggest thing about a starter is you need equal amounts of flour and water. I used 60 grams of flour and water for mine bc I’m not planning to bake that much and didn’t want to make a massive starter. When you’re first starting out, you do need to pour off half-ish to make room in your jar. If you keep adding flour and water and don’t get rid of some of it you’re gonna run out of room lol. On slow days when I was starting mine I would sometimes feed twice a day and pour off half before the second feeding. That’s up to you. Now that mine is started, I have a schedule to feed her every Monday, but I might still feed her in between if I think she’s lookin sad.

I only stirred mine when halving and feeding, I didn’t want to disturb my starter lose that CO2 from the fermentation. It was the easiest way for me to tell that it was actively growing and maturing!

I covered my jar with a clean coffee filter and left it on the counter because my dog’s hair is super fine and literally floats in the air. I didn’t want Sam Hair in my starter lol. You can cover it with a cloth or napkin if you don’t want any large objects getting into your starter, but leaving it out on your counter is a good way to introduce local microbes into it. If you wanna get wild and crazy and have a back yard or little patio with a shaded spot, stick it out there with a strainer or piece of cheese cloth over it. I wanted to do that since I have really nice wide window sills, but we’re peak tree pollen season right now and that just sounded gross lol.

This is the basic starter guide that I’ve followed a couple times (that finally got me to my current starter).

Claire Saffitz from BA did an awesome How To Make Sourdough Bread for the Cooking NYTimes! I followed her guidance yesterday for the dough, but at the bottom she has a little section on how to maintain your starter.

I found Mike from the Youtube channel Pro Home Cooks earlier this year when I was doing some reading, and he shows you how he does his starter at the beginning of this video. He even explains some good visual signs to look for to know your starter is ready.

Since this mess started, people on twitter have been sharing their bread journeys and helping others with yeast and starters. Here are two, a new one and an old one:

For if you can’t find active yeast to buy but you have some fruit or dried fruit or the dregs of a dark beer or bottle of wine, have fun!

Or if you’re feeling wild west here’s 2019 thread on capturing wild yeast:

Which looks super fun, I wanna try this but I wonder where I could find some wild barley...

I hope some of this helps!

Also shout out to @deadbiwrites for letting me bother her with questions. True mvp. Find you a friend that can calm your baking fears.

[acockius]

you make me live.

i am back, and i am rusty. but in times like these, you’ve gotta give love! so i participated in @dtfrogertaylor​‘s level of concern writing event to bring some joy to @la-vie-en-rosuh​, who i spent a borderline creepy amount stalking as her ask box hates my guts. this piece has a lot of what i think she may be like, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint her. this is also my first even deaky piece ever, so i’m sorry if it’s awful! 

john deacon x you ; 1,345 words ; sweet and fluffy, but with some level of concern surrounding current events

At first, the idea of being quarantined wasn’t all that bad. You were a homebody to begin with, so staying in would be the easy part. There was always something running through your brain: thoughts about an article that you read, the new album you just finished listening to, what your weekend would have in store for you.  So, you tried to treat it like fun at first.

But it quickly proved to be not fun; it became old very quickly, and the reality of why you were doing this in the first place was constantly hung over your head like a raincloud. It made it difficult to act like this was an extended vacation or something when there were larger consequences attached to the situation.

You’d consider yourself to be a mostly self-sufficient person that normally didn’t have difficulty getting herself through the day. The loss of some semblance of a routine changed all of that; it was a complete free-for-all, allowing you to do things like stay awake until the sun rose and eat cereal for breakfast. You were an adult, and you had the freedom to do those things. But you didn’t want to.

Thankfully, John had agreed to stay with you for however long this would last - and it’d already been several weeks at this point. You were doing your best to hide your neuroses in relation to the pandemic from him, but he knew you better than you’d give him credit for. The best thing about dating John was that you were the perfect balance for each other. You fed off of each other’s energy with ease and it made for a wonderful relationship.

John Deacon was the most passionate and caring individual you’ve ever met. At first appearance, John seems mostly quiet and reserved. Once he’s surrounded by those he’s comfortable with, he becomes absolutely exhilarating. His witty sense of humor and bright soul stole your heart from the moment you met him. You found yourself very lucky to call him yours.

A large part of your coping with being cooped up in the house was completely detaching yourself from John after the first few weeks. It wasn’t something that you were proud of but it was how you dealt with things sometimes. Life had been good ever since you started seeing John so he’d never had the fortunate experience of working through your most problematic coping mechanism.

Once John picked up on the idea of you needing your space, he was more than happy to oblige. He would do anything he could in order to make you comfortable. That’s why he didn’t directly address you about what was going on. You guys were in the long haul together and the last thing he wanted to do was upset you and have you resent him while he stayed with him. Still, he could tell you were hurting and he wracked hims brain trying to figure out how to bring you out of this funk.

If you were the one who preoccupied the living area, John lingered in the bedroom. He’d close the door, as to not disturb you, and pluck out a tune on his bass. It was beginning to sound like he was working on a song when he stole these private moments. When you’d sleep in or take a nap, John would take to cleaning - which he was surprisingly incredibly good at. He also enjoyed doing laundry, but there was never much to do because you were living in your pajamas. Lately, you’d begun to steal some of John’s sweatshirts to wear. It was like being in his arms 24/7. You knew that if you wanted him in that way, you could have him; it was just a little difficult for you to ask for at the moment.

The one hobby that you’d found that helped you stay somewhat sane was baking. You were a lean, mean baking machine and John was reaping the benefits. Whether it was cookies, cupcakes, muffins, or pastries, he’d devour every morsel and praise you for all of your hard work. John was your biggest fan, and you were his. You couldn’t begin to explain how comforting his encouragement was. And that’s why you kept baking. His praise is what kept you going.

You were flung over the couch, watching The Force Awakens for the umpteenth time while throwing popcorn in the air and trying to catch the popped kernels in your mouth. John had been in the bedroom for a considerable amount of time, strumming out chords. You’d barely noticed when the sound stopped and he entered the living room.

“Again?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

With a dramatic sigh, you sat up, ready to give a clear explanation.

“Deaky, we’ve been through this already! You have to accept that Poe Dameron is the other man in my life. He’s around a lot.” You teased before chucking a piece of popcorn John’s way.

He grinned that ethereal smile before nodding.

“Fair enough.” He accepted, sitting at the opposite end of the couch.. “I am normally very territorial but if it makes you happy, I’m willing to share with the commander.”

You blushed and shook your head, shifting to cross your legs underneath you. You habitually snuck your nose under the neck of the sweater you were wearing and inhaled, calming yourself with John’s scent.

“I like whatever you’ve been playing in there.” You nodded towards your bedroom. “It’s catchy.”

John shrugged, fidgeting with a stray string from the chair of the sofa.

“It’s coming together. I’m working through the lyrics. I want to make sure that it’s just right.”

“I’m sure it will be. It always is.” You reassured, tapping your toe against John’s knee.

He nodded graciously and shifted to turn to you.

“Have you been working on any treats for me to try today or has the rebellion taken up most of your time?” John teased.

“Actually, I have started something but it’s not something that I will have ready straight away.”

John tilted his head and raised his eyebrow.

“The newest trend is sourdough bread. It’s a very particular and tricky process and I want to be sure to get it just right.” You explained.

John hummed happily and put his hands on his stomach.

“I can’t wait to make cheese toast with it. Christ, I can nearly taste it.” John quipped. “Or maybe a nice butter and preserves spread.”

“Well, I can’t take part in the cheese toast tasting, even though it is your favorite.” You frowned.

“But you can take part in the sweet tasting - just as long as it isn’t strawberry!”

You face lit up and you bit your lip.

“I love that you remember my food allergies and sensitivities.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because I love you.”

Your head whipped around so fast in John’s direction that you weren’t sure if you’d heard him correctly. He’d never said those three words before since you’ve been together. It wasn’t like you didn’t love him, because you did. Emotions were complicated and you were constantly scared of doing or saying the wrong thing to make him think that you didn’t feel the same.

“You do?” Your voice was timid when you asked.

John laughed airily and nodded.

“I do. I really love you.”

You crawled over to John and tilted your head up to him for a kiss. He smirked coyly, and hiked his thumb towards the tv.

“Are you sure you want to do that with your other man watching?” John inquired.

You rolled your eyes and pulled John by the collar to press your lips together in a deep kiss. John cradled your face in his strong hands and kissed you with as much fervor as he could muster.

It seemed like the world around you was in shambles, and that weighed on you heavily. You’d lost sight on the fact that you could still thrive inside your little apartment with John by your side. You could be happy at home.

[android-for-life]

"Googlers get creative while working from home"

When the going gets tough, the tough bake sourdough bread. Or take up knitting. Or just really get into a new video game. In the months since the COVID-19 pandemic left many of us working from home and social distancing cut down on our calendars, we’ve had plenty of time to pick up a few new hobbies here and there. Others have spent time figuring out how to adapt their passions to the inside of their homes. And that’s the case for Googlers, too, who are still playing in orchestras and working on arts and crafts in quarantine. Here are a few inspiring projects Googlers are working on in their spare time, from home. 

Dancing on their own, together

Last year, a group of 20 San Francisco-area Googlers got together to compete in a local dance competition. They called themselves Incognito Mode and won second place. Since then, they performed in showcases both inside and outside the office, but the pandemic put a stop to performing in person anytime soon. Instead, they recorded a dance video from their homes, dodging friends, roommates and pets in the process. Each of the 18 participants choreographed a portion of the routine, and they later edited the footage together. “We faced new challenges of dancing together virtually, but it also allowed us to connect in ways we wouldn’t have otherwise,” says Jason Scott, head of Google’s U.S. startup developer ecosystem and one of the group’s creative directors. “Many of our members now live around the country, but remote dance projects have let them continue dancing with us.”

A work-from-home virtual orchestra

In the summer of 2016, around 30 Googlers picked up their instruments and played in The Googler Orchestra’s very first concert. Ever since then, they’ve rehearsed weekly and grown in numbers, with their last in-person performance featuring 80 Googler musicians. After Googlers started working from home, one orchestra member posted a call to get people to play together virtually. That started the Googler Virtual Orchestra, which has increased the group’s membership; their third recording will feature more than 100 musicians across three countries. 

Members each individually record their parts and then edit the footage together into one track. “It’s a logistical challenge,” says Colton Provias, the group’s lead audio engineer and a software engineer based in Sunnyvale, California. “It takes about three months from first discussions of what piece to play through the released video.”

The group intends to continue their work-from-home performances, and potentially adding other instruments or even a choir. “It speaks to the many talents that Googlers have, not just in the workplace, but outside of it too,” says Derek Wu, the orchestra’s founder and a software engineer based in Palo Alto, California. “The orchestra, for myself and others, allows everyone to unite together and create music that as a whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”

Comic relief from the pandemic’s stresses

Gao Fang, who works in information security from Google’s Singapore office, had never drawn a comic before she started working from home in March. “Before the pandemic, I could roam around and sketch landscapes,” she says. “Then the lockdown happened and there was only that much I could sketch in my apartment. My hands got itchy for things to draw, and since I would like to keep a diary of this historical event, it's a natural step to record my days with some drawings.” 

She ended up drawing more than 80 comics while staying at home, and it ended up being a way to cope with living in isolation. Gao Fang’s comics touch on topics like awkward video chat moments and how stressful it can be to keep up with global news. Many of her sketches feature a rabbit as a main character, which she says was a stand-in for herself. “When I woke up everyday to frustrating news around the world, this little bunny did an amazing job keeping me company and guarding my sanity,” she says.

Focusing on the small things—the really small things

Adam Stoves, who works on the Real Estate and Workplace Services team in New York, has been working from his 600-square-foot apartment alongside his wife and their toddler. Back in May, on a whim, he bought a pack of Play-Doh to entertain his daughter, but it ended up entertaining the parents, too. He and his wife started crafting miniature sculptures, which they now share online. They’ve created miniature foods, animals and even a teensy face mask. “Our daughter will pitch in from time to time, but her true talent lies indisputably in being the cutest hand model ever,” Adam says. “We have a limited window where she remains attentive, so we do a little chant: Big flat hand! Big flat hand!, when it’s time to photograph. It helps sharpen her toddler focus.” 

Source : The Official Google Blog via Source information

[italiandisheslover212]

For Simone as well as Max Rocha, Family Has Actually Always Provided Motivation

Though they operate in various fields-- she in fashion, he in food-- the siblings share an enthusiasm for craft and cooperation. The developer Simone Rocha and the chef Max Rocha in the back yard of Simone's home in East London. One very warm Friday mid-day in June, the chef Max Rocha, 30, packed a picnic hamper with a pork terrine, an almond tart, some strawberries and also a loaf of fresh baked sourdough bread as well as cycled 2 miles east from his residence in London's Hackney area to that of his sis, the stylist Simone Rocha, 33, in De Beauvoir Town. Given that the lockdown began in the U.K. in late March, he had actually made numerous such distributions to both Simone-- who deals with her partner, the cinematographer Eoin McLoughlin, and their 4-year-old daughter, Valentine-- and also to the brother or sisters' moms and dads, the well known Hong Kong-born developer John Rocha as well as Odette Rocha, who is Simone's company partner, at their house in main London. Accustomed to operating in a hectic kitchen area along with 20 various other chefs at the acclaimed River Café in West London, Max had discovered himself spending even more time alone after the restaurant was compelled to enclose March. Food preparation for his family members, he states, ended up being "a reason to greet." " But we are extremely close as a family members anyway," states Simone. Growing up in a stylish three-story red brick house in Dublin, where their parents frequently hosted parties for innovative pals as well as musicians consisting of the professional photographer Perry Ogden and the film supervisor Jim Sheridan, the siblings were timid and silent as kids, primarily keeping to themselves. They built on their bond in the adult years when Max joined his sibling in London in 2009, not long before she finished from Central Saint Martins and also began her namesake tag. Today, Simone says, "we cross-pollinate all the time." Max has appointed bands to dip into her shows while she pays off the support by developing flower plans for the informal supper clubs Max has actually hosted over the past 2 years. Yet if the lockdown, which has currently reduced in England, emphasized what Simone calls "the requirement of human connection," it additionally gave each of the siblings time to refocus on their very own particular enthusiasms as well as crafts. For Simone, that indicated a lot more hours having fun with her daughter, refining her baking abilities as well as operating in her garden, where she planted peas and also radishes. She additionally rediscovered her love for needlework as well as started hand-stitching presents for friends, including vintage aprons as well as kitchen area towels decorated with their names. "What I do has actually constantly started from textiles and also the hand," she claims of her brand, which is known for its darkly enchanting vision of feminineness as well as deep love of workmanship. "But when you run your very own tag, you realize you don't stitch any longer since you're taking care of money as well as team as well as a million other points. So because feeling, this period has been amazing." Determining just how to develop a collection in quarantine, nonetheless, has been a difficulty. Simone functioned remotely with her studio to create the tag's fall items-- which consist of thick Aran knits and fragile tulle gowns inspired by the Irish author J.M. Synge's 1904 play "Riders to the Sea"-- while likewise making scrubs as well as masks for National Health Service staffers. Performing fittings over Zoom, she says, was particularly difficult "due to the fact that I do not function flat or on a computer however on a stand and also on a version. It's always about the interaction with the female." But she's adapted, and also in various other ways, also. She released an on the internet store 2 weeks into the lockdown, a step necessitated by the momentary closure of numerous retailers and her own shops in London, Hong Kong and New York, as well as she intends to offer her collection later on this month in an exhibit as opposed to an extra conventional runway program. After that you ought to not miss to check out Italian Chef to understand about Michele, if you love italian foods. Max has actually likewise had to alter his strategies over the previous few months. After investing numerous years operating in songs, in public connections and band monitoring, he discovered his true calling at the Australian chef Skye Gyngell's London dining establishment, Spring, where he started as a commis in 2015. "That was the most liberating thing for me-- to enter into a cooking area and not be John Rocha's boy or Simone's brother," he states. After stints working with various other popular chefs, consisting of Fergus Henderson at St. John and also Ruth Rogers at River Café, Max had actually been preparing to open his very own restaurant in East London this year, one serving a classic, seasonally inspired riff on the self-made Irish fare his mom made use of to cook for the family members. Since those plans get on hold till spring, in addition to preparing food for friends and family, he has actually been offering a weekend outing takeout food selection from a record shop in East London with fellow chefs Tim Blanchard and Rosie McBurney, laying plans to organize even more pop-up dinners later on in the year, and also cooking bread to give away to a neighborhood charity that supplies materials to wellness treatment employees. "The factor I entered food preparation to begin with was for my psychological wellness," he states, defining exactly how the physicality of his trade assisted him pertain to terms with his anxiety. "So I intended to utilize my skills to bring favorable energy to the individuals around me." At her house on that particular warm June mid-day, Simone set the table in the backyard with a white bed linen table linen while Max cut the bread and also terrine, offering it with a lot of mustard and also butter. After months of socially distanced drop-offs, this was the very first time the siblings had the ability to take a seat to a meal with each other, as well as it really felt "practically like Christmas," said Max. As they found reprieve from the scorching heat in the lush garden, filled with pale pink roses and sprigs of milk-white cow parsley, Simone reviewed the value of the moment. "There's a feeling of sharing," she said, "as well as collaborating."

[easyfoodnetwork]

King Arthur Flour’s Baking Hotline Has Never Been Busier — and the Questions Are Getting Personal

Efired/Shutterstock

During quarantine, the bakers who staff the hotline are providing baking — and emotional — support

On March 14, COVID-19 was declared a national emergency in the U.S., hand sanitizer profiteers made headlines, and states had yet to issue stay-at-home orders. It was also Pi Day — that is, the date 3/14, which is often cheekily observed by baking or eating pie. The date stands out to Martina Pochop because she’s a baker and because when she went to work the next day, she noticed a flood of new calls and emails. Popchop works as a baker support specialist at King Arthur Flour’s Norwich, Vermont headquarters, and part of her job is answering calls on the company’s Baker’s Hotline, a number anyone can call for advice on their doughs and batters. “It was literally overnight,” she says. “Everything just started tumbling down an endless path in search of flour.”

King Arthur Flour quietly launched its Baker’s Hotline in 1993. While it may not be as well known as the Butterball Turkey Talk Line, it displays a level of homespun commitment not seen in other culinary help lines. The Baker’s Hotline is staffed by 15 people who answer calls and emails for eight to 12 hours a day, 357 days a year. Most have culinary degrees and worked as professional bakers, chocolatiers, and chefs before coming to King Arthur, where they generally work in education, recipe-developing, or product-testing roles in addition to answering the hotline. They’ve picked up the phone so many times that many can recite their opening line as if in their sleep: baker support specialist Maggie Perry recently answered a call from her child’s pediatrician with, “Hi, this is Maggie at King Arthur.”

The holidays and summer (baking contest season) tend to be busy for the Baker’s Hotline, but those pale in comparison to the pandemic. In April, queries to the King Arthur hotline surpassed the four busiest weeks over the winter holidays, with a total of 10,406 calls and 7,740 emails, requiring six additional bakers working in other departments to step in and answer emails. It hasn’t let up: King Arthur’s staff has experienced unrelenting call volumes for three months, and during this time, the hotline has become a magnet for lonely, anxious human behavior and lots of questions about sourdough.

The baker support specialists have seen a few patterns emerge. Before the pandemic, most calls came from regular bakers on the older side, with some “frequent fliers” who called mostly just to chat. But in March, they started hearing from more beginner bakers who couldn’t easily ask family members for advice about old recipes or about the difference between all-purpose and bread flour — sometimes it was because they’d recently lost someone, other times because they lived far away and couldn’t reach them by phone. Perry also noticed that once schools shut down, parents started calling about homeschool baking projects. “[Baking is] one of those magical things. It’s science, it’s math,” she says. And more people were asking about finicky projects like pâte à choux or macarons, recipes whose long timelines newly appealed to those working from home or looking for weekend time-sucks.

As grocery store shortages went beyond sanitizer and toilet paper, calls about ingredient substitutions flooded the hotline. When grocery stores ran low on bread, people called in to ask for recipe suggestions, solutions to rising issues, and once, if it was possible to bake bread on a grill because it was too hot to turn on the oven. Callers looking for a challenge tried out sourdough, “which, for people who have never baked before, is quite an adventure, to say the least,” Pochop says. There were more calls about cookies, but ones baked with alternative flours, since all-purpose was scarce.

More time and fewer options at the grocery store have indeed made baking more popular than ever, and King Arthur’s sales have gone up as much as 600 percent accordingly (as have hits to its website). But it’s not the only thing driving thousands more callers to the Baker’s Hotline. According to Pochop, who has been with the company since 2017, “in the last couple of months, people have seemed the most lonely.”

Baked goods in particular are so often tied up with nostalgia and relationships; people seem especially anxious about messing up recipes that their loved ones usually made, or just want to talk to someone — anyone — about how much a recipe means to them. A caller may technically be asking about how to halve a recipe, but what they really want to talk about is how they’d usually make a full recipe to share with their grandchildren. “You can’t actually give them everything that they need,” Perry says. “You can just let them know that you’re there and that a lot of other people are calling with the same feelings.”

“We hear from people who just don’t know who else to call.”

King Arthur baker specialist and customer support shift lead Amanda Schlarbaum recently spoke to a woman who broke down crying after asking a yeast-related question. Her parents lived far away and she didn’t know when she’d see them again. “She was like, ‘I can’t even believe I’m crying over bread.’ And I’m like, you know, that’s where we all are right now.” The caller ended up spending $55 to send her parents a homemade loaf.

In retrospect, the Baker’s Hotline was primed to be a source of comfort during quarantine. King Arthur has a reputation for its teaching culture; its resources are notably beginner-friendly and easygoing. “If you have a process you’ve successfully followed before, then hey, stick with it. Or try this one and compare. All good,” PJ Hamel writes in the company’s oft-recommended primer on sourdough starter. On King Arthur’s social media platforms, bakers have always felt comfortable posting panicked photos of explosively large doughs or asking extremely specific questions. And when bakers tag @kingarthurflour in photos of their finished products, the company responds like an enthusiastic friend. “What a lovely bundt, Marilyn!” reads a reply to one user’s tweeted creation. “Pairing ingredients and recipes is like putting two partners together for a dance. Will they fluidly tango? Your stunning Kaiser Rolls clearly answer that question!” the company replied on Facebook when a baker paired King Arthur’s bread flour with a Cook’s Illustrated recipe.

Hotline staffers are armed with all of King Arthur’s online resources and cookbooks, as well as fat binders of their own creation filled with handwritten notes on questions that have been asked before. And they’re game for questions that extend outside the baking realm. In late April, Schlarbaum picked up the phone to a stranger who wanted to know how much extra sauce she should make if she’d bought an extra pound of oxtail. “She was so nonchalant about it,” Schlarbaum says. As Easter in quarantine approached, Pochop received a few questions about ham and potatoes.

Even non-baking questions are usually culinary in nature, so if they can, the staffers try to answer them. After all, imagine you can’t leave your house, see your more cooking-inclined family, or even get through to most customer service lines — but there is one line that promises, seven days a week, to connect you with an actual human who will earnestly try to help you out, no matter how specific your problem. “On a daily basis we hear from people who just don’t know who else to call and they saw our number on the bag of flour that they have in their hand,” says Popchop.

As unprecedented as the volume of calls has been recently, the questions are the same as they’ve always been, just modified by the constraints of a global crisis. People still call about wedding cakes, but they’re making a miniature version because the couple is celebrating without family and friends. Schlarbaum called fellow hotline staffers to discuss a mascarpone filling for her own quarantine birthday cake. People are baking to relieve stress, just as they always have done, only now the stress and the baking have increased tenfold: “You’re looking for something that you can accomplish,” Perry says. “You’re looking for something that feels good and can take care of other people.”

People are maybe a little more emotional if their buttercream isn’t mixing properly, but Schlarbaum jumps into therapist mode, advising deep breaths and walking away for 15 minutes. “I tell them when I make buttercream, I’ve ruined it every single time.” Most calls end with a relieved baker and sometimes a few extra minutes of chatting, just because the caller doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“Right now, people are bored and anxieties are running high,” Schlarbaum says, “and I think people just need someone to be like, ‘No, no, the bread will be fine. Just let it rise another half an hour. It’ll be okay.’”

Erin Berger is a freelance writer and former culture editor at Outside magazine, based in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/30LRITh https://ift.tt/2YBPpjg

Efired/Shutterstock

During quarantine, the bakers who staff the hotline are providing baking — and emotional — support

On March 14, COVID-19 was declared a national emergency in the U.S., hand sanitizer profiteers made headlines, and states had yet to issue stay-at-home orders. It was also Pi Day — that is, the date 3/14, which is often cheekily observed by baking or eating pie. The date stands out to Martina Pochop because she’s a baker and because when she went to work the next day, she noticed a flood of new calls and emails. Popchop works as a baker support specialist at King Arthur Flour’s Norwich, Vermont headquarters, and part of her job is answering calls on the company’s Baker’s Hotline, a number anyone can call for advice on their doughs and batters. “It was literally overnight,” she says. “Everything just started tumbling down an endless path in search of flour.”

King Arthur Flour quietly launched its Baker’s Hotline in 1993. While it may not be as well known as the Butterball Turkey Talk Line, it displays a level of homespun commitment not seen in other culinary help lines. The Baker’s Hotline is staffed by 15 people who answer calls and emails for eight to 12 hours a day, 357 days a year. Most have culinary degrees and worked as professional bakers, chocolatiers, and chefs before coming to King Arthur, where they generally work in education, recipe-developing, or product-testing roles in addition to answering the hotline. They’ve picked up the phone so many times that many can recite their opening line as if in their sleep: baker support specialist Maggie Perry recently answered a call from her child’s pediatrician with, “Hi, this is Maggie at King Arthur.”

The holidays and summer (baking contest season) tend to be busy for the Baker’s Hotline, but those pale in comparison to the pandemic. In April, queries to the King Arthur hotline surpassed the four busiest weeks over the winter holidays, with a total of 10,406 calls and 7,740 emails, requiring six additional bakers working in other departments to step in and answer emails. It hasn’t let up: King Arthur’s staff has experienced unrelenting call volumes for three months, and during this time, the hotline has become a magnet for lonely, anxious human behavior and lots of questions about sourdough.

The baker support specialists have seen a few patterns emerge. Before the pandemic, most calls came from regular bakers on the older side, with some “frequent fliers” who called mostly just to chat. But in March, they started hearing from more beginner bakers who couldn’t easily ask family members for advice about old recipes or about the difference between all-purpose and bread flour — sometimes it was because they’d recently lost someone, other times because they lived far away and couldn’t reach them by phone. Perry also noticed that once schools shut down, parents started calling about homeschool baking projects. “[Baking is] one of those magical things. It’s science, it’s math,” she says. And more people were asking about finicky projects like pâte à choux or macarons, recipes whose long timelines newly appealed to those working from home or looking for weekend time-sucks.

As grocery store shortages went beyond sanitizer and toilet paper, calls about ingredient substitutions flooded the hotline. When grocery stores ran low on bread, people called in to ask for recipe suggestions, solutions to rising issues, and once, if it was possible to bake bread on a grill because it was too hot to turn on the oven. Callers looking for a challenge tried out sourdough, “which, for people who have never baked before, is quite an adventure, to say the least,” Pochop says. There were more calls about cookies, but ones baked with alternative flours, since all-purpose was scarce.

More time and fewer options at the grocery store have indeed made baking more popular than ever, and King Arthur’s sales have gone up as much as 600 percent accordingly (as have hits to its website). But it’s not the only thing driving thousands more callers to the Baker’s Hotline. According to Pochop, who has been with the company since 2017, “in the last couple of months, people have seemed the most lonely.”

Baked goods in particular are so often tied up with nostalgia and relationships; people seem especially anxious about messing up recipes that their loved ones usually made, or just want to talk to someone — anyone — about how much a recipe means to them. A caller may technically be asking about how to halve a recipe, but what they really want to talk about is how they’d usually make a full recipe to share with their grandchildren. “You can’t actually give them everything that they need,” Perry says. “You can just let them know that you’re there and that a lot of other people are calling with the same feelings.”

“We hear from people who just don’t know who else to call.”

King Arthur baker specialist and customer support shift lead Amanda Schlarbaum recently spoke to a woman who broke down crying after asking a yeast-related question. Her parents lived far away and she didn’t know when she’d see them again. “She was like, ‘I can’t even believe I’m crying over bread.’ And I’m like, you know, that’s where we all are right now.” The caller ended up spending $55 to send her parents a homemade loaf.

In retrospect, the Baker’s Hotline was primed to be a source of comfort during quarantine. King Arthur has a reputation for its teaching culture; its resources are notably beginner-friendly and easygoing. “If you have a process you’ve successfully followed before, then hey, stick with it. Or try this one and compare. All good,” PJ Hamel writes in the company’s oft-recommended primer on sourdough starter. On King Arthur’s social media platforms, bakers have always felt comfortable posting panicked photos of explosively large doughs or asking extremely specific questions. And when bakers tag @kingarthurflour in photos of their finished products, the company responds like an enthusiastic friend. “What a lovely bundt, Marilyn!” reads a reply to one user’s tweeted creation. “Pairing ingredients and recipes is like putting two partners together for a dance. Will they fluidly tango? Your stunning Kaiser Rolls clearly answer that question!” the company replied on Facebook when a baker paired King Arthur’s bread flour with a Cook’s Illustrated recipe.

Hotline staffers are armed with all of King Arthur’s online resources and cookbooks, as well as fat binders of their own creation filled with handwritten notes on questions that have been asked before. And they’re game for questions that extend outside the baking realm. In late April, Schlarbaum picked up the phone to a stranger who wanted to know how much extra sauce she should make if she’d bought an extra pound of oxtail. “She was so nonchalant about it,” Schlarbaum says. As Easter in quarantine approached, Pochop received a few questions about ham and potatoes.

Even non-baking questions are usually culinary in nature, so if they can, the staffers try to answer them. After all, imagine you can’t leave your house, see your more cooking-inclined family, or even get through to most customer service lines — but there is one line that promises, seven days a week, to connect you with an actual human who will earnestly try to help you out, no matter how specific your problem. “On a daily basis we hear from people who just don’t know who else to call and they saw our number on the bag of flour that they have in their hand,” says Popchop.

As unprecedented as the volume of calls has been recently, the questions are the same as they’ve always been, just modified by the constraints of a global crisis. People still call about wedding cakes, but they’re making a miniature version because the couple is celebrating without family and friends. Schlarbaum called fellow hotline staffers to discuss a mascarpone filling for her own quarantine birthday cake. People are baking to relieve stress, just as they always have done, only now the stress and the baking have increased tenfold: “You’re looking for something that you can accomplish,” Perry says. “You’re looking for something that feels good and can take care of other people.”

People are maybe a little more emotional if their buttercream isn’t mixing properly, but Schlarbaum jumps into therapist mode, advising deep breaths and walking away for 15 minutes. “I tell them when I make buttercream, I’ve ruined it every single time.” Most calls end with a relieved baker and sometimes a few extra minutes of chatting, just because the caller doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“Right now, people are bored and anxieties are running high,” Schlarbaum says, “and I think people just need someone to be like, ‘No, no, the bread will be fine. Just let it rise another half an hour. It’ll be okay.’”

Erin Berger is a freelance writer and former culture editor at Outside magazine, based in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/30LRITh via Blogger https://ift.tt/3cYKRsk

[nancypullen]

How Ya’ Doing?

All present and accounted for at your place?  We’re all fine and dandy here.  We had some big storms pass through last night and this morning I watched a possum explore our woodpile.  That’s the most excitement we’ve had around here in ages.  I’m bummed because we were supposed to be heading to Maryland to visit the world’s cutest toddler but had to cancel.  Stupid virus.  The mister had already taken time off and decided he needed the break so instead of having fun with T, J, and W we’ll be sanding and painting all of the interior doors.  What kind of crazy substitute vacation is that?  That’s no one’s idea of a good time.  Even worse, he’ll put on talk radio while we do it instead of some good 70′s tunes.  For someone who doesn’t listen much he sure enjoys talk radio.  Did I say that out loud? Moving on.  I haven’t been able to get my hands on any yeast, which has become as valuable as gold these days.  I don’t really need it, we can still get bread if we want to do a grocery order, but baking it would be more fun and the possibilities are endless.  Since I couldn’t find any at a  price I was willing to pay I turned to my resource for so many things - Etsy.  I didn’t buy yeast but I did buy some sourdough starter from a woman who said it’s 140 years old.  Her grandmother fed it, then her mother, and now she is keeping it alive and well.  I paid 5 bucks for some starter and when it arrives I’ll have to feed it for a week or so before I can start depleting it.  I’ve never used sourdough starter before though I have plenty of friends who have, can’t be that hard, right? Famous last words.  I’m a cook, not a baker.  I bake for fun - decorative cupcakes. celebratory cookies and pies, holiday goodies, that sort of thing  I’ve never baked for survival.  I may have  to give it to that possum. Know what else I found on Etsy? Taxidermy stripper mice.

This one is named Crystal and she’s a pole dancer.  I’m guessing she had an unhappy childhood and has a heart of gold beneath her tough exterior.  She’s got big dreams though, so she swallows her pride and knows that the money she makes on the pole will help them come true.    Quarantine feeds one’s imagination, wouldn’t you agree?  Crystal  will cost you 71 bucks, or you can get a whole set of stripper mice an a light up stand for about $260. Think Moulin Rouge for rodents.

Normally, I’d squawk about the price and tell you that you can get a roundtrip ticket somewhere for $260.  But we can’t go anywhere, so feel free to buy some dead mice.  No, I didn’t purchase any.  I was looking for a princess or a fairy mouse.  I did think this guy was funny.  He’d be great inside a pantry or somewhere unexpected - linen closet, outside the crisper in the frig.

That one sells for $50 and I’m way too cheap to spend that much on a joke, though I guess you could categorize it as home decor.  Besides, my first choice will always be the Candy Coon.

You can get this fellow with a variety of treats - Milk Duds, Cracker Jacks, even a jar of Jif peanut butter.  I think he should look a lot happier though.  They should give him a big smile.

This skunk and squirrel going fishing is kind of fun.  There’s a children’s book in there somewhere.  Poor Squirrel, Skunk is scared to go out on the water and every time the boat rocks he’s startled and lets out a cloud of his signature odor. So Squirrel comes up with a song to soothe him (and spare himself the stinky ride).    You know the tune.

 Row, row, row the boat.  It’s safer than you think. We’ll be fine, it’s all okay. No need to make a stink. Sure, the lyrics need work, but you see where the story is going, right?  I think it has potential. Pew-tential.  Poo-tential.  I need to get a life. I have obviously allowed my mind to roam freely and it’s like a kid in a candy store.  Someone needs to rein it in.  I guess I’ll go do responsible, adult activities for a bit.  The dishwasher needs to be unloaded and dinner won’t cook itself.  But you can bet that a part of my brain will be working on that song. How’s it going at your house?  Keeping the crazy at bay or enjoying every minute of it?

Hang in there!  We’ll make it through this historic time and have plenty of tales to tell.  XOXO,

Nancy 

[kentonramsey]

After All This Bread-Baking Comes the Great Pancake Revival

The other week on MR’s Thoughtline, I suggested that if you’re co-working at home, you might consider rebranding the kitchen as “the corporate cafeteria” during work hours. From the looks of social media, it appears that the kitchen has taken on an entirely different identity instead: namely, the International House of Pancakes.

After the first wave of bread-baking, sourdough-starting, and yeast-hoarding crested, I saw a flapjack-flipping surf rise in its wake. I have a few theories why. In some cases, pancake recipes operate at the nexus of comfort food and health food (the kind that borders on being baby food), requiring only a few ingredients to make something satisfying (a desirable row on the quarantine bingo card). Once you start researching pancake recipes, there’s no pumping the brakes: You may start small with the classic buttermilk mixture, and next thing you know, you’re broadening your horizons and experimenting with:

— this two-ingredient hack (for the uninitiated, you can make a pancake with just a banana and two eggs), — Happy Menocal’s secret kale-laced recipe that deceives her (adorable) children into eating greens, — or a savory winter squash variation.

Pancakes fill a void for someone like me, who has been known to lack some… exactitude in the kitchen. The pancake’s most winning quality is that there are no hard and fast rules to batter. Batter ingredients can be modified on a per-pancake scale. Batter can be whatever you want it to be, as long as it maintains the kind of consistency that slides out of a bowl and lands in a pan, coherently shaped. Batter is a state of mind.

Pancake dispatch from my brother, William.

Last weekend, I eased back into the pancake game after a lengthy hiatus with the banana/egg get-pancakes-quick scheme. I modified the batter slightly per person and per disc, adding rolled oats, various spices and even sunflower seed butter to the mixture as I worked my way to the bottom of the bowl. This week, I delved into unfamiliar terrain, modifying Smitten Kitchen’s winter squash pancake recipe for an indulgent, working brunch.

Seeking confirmation for my hunch that pancakes are having a moment, I interviewed a few key sources, including my younger brother. He theorized that “pancakes were always a way to celebrate the weekend, but now you can make them every frickin’ day.” (His pioneering preference for pancake preparation: griddle cake mix from our favorite San Francisco bakery, The Mill, topped with MGT Foods cold brew coffee ice cream with granola, sea salt and a drizzle of olive oil.)

I also touched base with Fanny Singer, author of the newly-released book of recipes with the prescient title Always Home, who often makes her own recipe (“Fanny’s Pancakes”) with her mother, Alice Waters of Chez Panisse. Fanny, an inventive and longtime pancake practitioner, corroborates my theory: “Yes, the pancake is definitely back!”

Fanny prefers making pancakes that have a mix of flours and grains, rather than just white flour. “If I make brown rice for dinner, for instance, I’ll throw leftovers into a pancake mix the next day,” she tells me. “It gives them a wonderful texture that reminds me of the legendary pancakes at the now-closed Axe in Venice, CA.” Fanny and I gravitate toward the pancake process for similar reasons, too: “Pancakes are very forgiving, since the egg does a lot of muscular work in binding the mixture—so even though my tendency to play it fast and loose in the kitchen doesn’t serve me in baking generally, pancakes never seem to suffer from my spirit of improvisation.” She informs me of a cross-over between the bread-baking frenzy and the pancake’s popularity: She tells me that, along with the uptick of people experimenting with baking their own sourdough bread, she’s also noticed a lot of people using sourdough starter to make pancakes. Music to my ears.

In terms of toppings, Fanny recommends a quick-cooked compote, if you have fresh or frozen raspberries or blueberries, with a bit of honey and water on the stovetop. “Does anything taste (or smell!) better than simmered blueberries? Nothing!”

View this post on Instagram

There’s no place like home

A post shared by Summer Dawn (@summer.dawn) on Apr 1, 2020 at 4:10pm PDT

For another perspective, I talked to Summer Dawn, who had “never flipped a pancake before in her life,” but whose sumptuous stacks I’d seen on Instagram. Summer reports that she’s made a dozen or more pancakes since being quarantined, though she may stop soon as she’s starting to get pimples from all the sugar. “I never order them at a restaurant either, as I don’t really have a taste for sweets at breakfast,” Summer says. “But currently, I’ll have a pancake for breakfast, after lunch, or as a little snack before bed. No rules. I’ve been using the mix from the restaurant Salt’s Cure in Los Angeles. They’re made from oatmeal, which gives them this incredible texture. Also, they’re slightly salty, which is different.” She attributes her newfound interest in pancakes to nostalgia, recalling memories of her faraway mom making Dutch pancakes—flattish popovers the size of your face—on weekends.

The humble pancake balances a golden ratio of photogenicism to tastiness to relative healthiness (if you opt for one of the unconventional and flourless vegetable- or fruit-forward recipes). If I were their spokesperson, I’d give flapjacks this slogan: “Easy to make, and easy to make look cute.” Pancakes don’t need a publicist, though. Take it from the recipe next up on my griddle’s queue: this fluffy Japanese souffle number.

View this post on Instagram

Japanese soufflé pancakes Sunday is fun day and today little Sonya and I decided to make Japanese soufflé pancakes. They are simple to make and super tasty. I remember the first time I had them – I was at a cafe in the old Hotel Okura in Tokyo with my dear friend Sonya Park of Arts & Science (whom our Sonya is named after) The pancakes are easy – but need a little focus. Start making the batter by whisking together 2 egg yolks 10 g vegetable oil 20 g oat milk Once fluffy, add 40 g of all-purpose flour – combine into a medium runny batter Mix separately 3 egg whites 1 teaspoon white vinegar When fluffy add 40 g white sugar and keep whisking until they are stiff like making meringues. Fold them into the batter so it becomes light and fluffy Pre-heat a nonstick frying on medium heat (6/10). Grease with some oil and then wipe with a paper towel so there is no extra oil in the pan. Drop two to three spoons of the batter onto the hot pan and fry the pancakes under a lid for 3-5 min – depending on the heat. Flip the pancakes carefully and fry them on the other side for another 3-5 min. Serve straight away with butter and jam.

A post shared by FREDERIK BILLE BRAHE (@frederikbillebrahe) on Apr 5, 2020 at 7:35am PDT

The post After All This Bread-Baking Comes the Great Pancake Revival appeared first on Man Repeller.

After All This Bread-Baking Comes the Great Pancake Revival published first on https://normaltimepiecesshop.tumblr.com/ After All This Bread-Baking Comes the Great Pancake Revival published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

[meljhart]

Corona Virus Crisis 2020

I have chosen to chronical my thoughts, feelings and activities during the COVID-19 crisis. The following is my daily summary.

March 18, 2020

I arrive at work and learn that vulnerable individuals are allowed, to self-quarantine themselves if they are high risk or are caring for someone that is high risk. Since both apply to me, I use the morning to get my work affairs in order, then leave. I am in . I am in shock and emotional at the same time.

March 19, 2020

Day 1 of house arrest. Not really. Just feels like it. I am high risk for complications/death, if I should contract the Corona virus and I care for my elderly Father who is also high risk due to health concerns.

At my work place, social distancing is difficult to do. Very seldom are you really 6 feet away from another person. The opportunity arose yesterday, that I could put myself in quarantine at home to greatly minimize my exposure and also so that I do not potentially expose my Dad or his close friend.

I’d like to sum up what may day has been like….

Today’s activities:

1.       Made a batch of my Cold and Flu Kicker Remedy.

2.       Made a batch of hand sanitizer.

3.       Shopped online.

4.       Watched the news and the presidents briefing.

5.       Planted garlic in the greenhouse.

6.       Sat in the sun a couple of times.

7.       Walked around my yard a few times.

8.       Completed the 2020 census online.

9.       Yoga.

10.   Fed sourdough starter.

11.   Paid bills.

12.   Wiped down every door knob, light switch, counter top, etc.

13.   Washed the windows.

14.   Watered the house plants.

15.   Brought in firewood. Been burning all day for heat. Helps with power usage.

16.   Answered a couple of work questions.

Today’s observations/thoughts:

1.       While outside, I noticed how quiet it is. Weird quiet. The only vehicles that went by the house today have been the garbage truck, Fed Ex, UPS, Mail Truck and some neighbors.

2.       I have to remove myself from the computer and the news. Too depressing!

3.       I feel weak, inadequate, for staying home. I would rather be working until retirement. I get emotional. I’m scared. I am genuinely afraid if my Dad contracts it, it’s over for him and if I contract it, I may end up like him, on oxygen, for the rest of my life or worse.

4.       News today depresses me. My daughter is in Japan. She’s been there close to 6 months working. She is due to come home in 2 weeks and I hope that she still is able to now that international travel is Level 4. This stresses me out. I want to see and hug my kid!

Today’s mindset:

1.       I can do this! This needs to happen to “flatten the curve” of the virus.

2.       Glad Hubby is doing ok but I worry about him.

3.       Glad to know both daughters,the son in law and significant other are ok.

4.       Planning my activities for tomorrow.

March 20, 2020

I don’t have the energy like yesterday. I learned last night that there is a Global Level 4 Travel Advisory and it is not known if my daughter will be coming home soon.

Today’s activities:

1.       Had a nap.

2.       Checked on Dad.

3.       Camped on the computer.

4.       Baked sourdough bread.

5.       Got the mail.

6.       Sat in the sun.

7.       Wiped down everything.

8.       Yoga.

9.       Worked a little on taxes. Not too motivated.

10.   Watched tv.

11.   Did a load of laundry. Wash, dry, fold, put away.

12.   Chatted for a while with my daughter.

Today’s observations/thoughts:

1.       With the sun out, the neighbors are more inclined to go out for walks or go places.

2.       I’m hoping my daughter can make it home safe and healthy.

3.       It is still not as noisy as normal.

4.       Making plans for tomorrow.

Today’s mindset:

1.       I’m feeling a little down today. And tired. I think it is because of the stress and anxiety of the pandemic and everything that comes with it.

March 21, 2020

I am still unmotivated. I slept in today. Was somewhat lazy.

Today’s Activities:

1.       Slept in.

2.       Checked on Dad.

3.       Sat in the Sun. This helps feel good and usually helps with my energy levels.

4.       Wipe down everything.

5.       Checked on my starts in the green house.

6.       Did some cooking.

Today’s Mindset:

1.       Not much else…..

March 22, 2020

Still somewhat unmotivated. Maybe it’s a bit of depression. This whole thing going on in the world right now is depressing. Trying to pull myself out of it. Better today than yesterday.

Today’s Activities:

1.       Watched trees being limbed next door. Opens it up for more sunlight in our garden area.

2.       Checked on Dad.

3.       Took a ride with Hubby out to our property on Hood Canal. It felt good to get out.

4.       Made some liquid hand soap. Lemon scented!

5.       Wiped down everything.

6.       Checked on my starts in the green house. Getting antsy to plant.

7.       Made some bar soap. Need to finish it up tomorrow.

Today’s Mindset:

1.       Is this really worth it? Then I think, Yes, after hearing more people are getting sick and more deaths happening every single day.

March 23, 2020

I’m feeling better today. It helps me to have a plan of action when starting the day. I’m also doing my best to practice good social distancing.

Today’s Activities:

1.       Took a walk around our loop twice early this morning. Equates to half a mile. It felt good to be moving.

2.       Shopped Costco online for delivery. Have an order being delivered later this week.

3.       Shopped Fred Meyer online for pick up. Scheduled to pick up later this week.

4.       Renewed my driver’s license online. It expires tomorrow and the offices are all closed!

5.       Washed, dried, folded and put away a load of laundry.

6.       Finished my soap project from yesterday.

7.       Wiped down everything.

8.       Planted Kale and Spinach seed in the garden.

9.       Wiped down an antique chest my Grandpa built.

10.   Washed off some old glassware.

11.   Played the PS4 for a while.

12.   Yoga.

Today’s mindset:

1.       This sucks, but I/we can get through this.

[foodreceipe]

Sushi Bake Is the Lockdown Trend I’ll Never Stop Making

Good for dinner at home now, great for (eventual) potlucks in the future.

By Hana Asbrink  February 4, 2021

The only thing better than a good recipe? When something’s so easy to make that you don’t even need one. Welcome to It’s That Simple, a column where we talk you through the process of making the dishes and drinks we can make with our eyes closed.

What lockdown food will you be happiest to take with you into the post-pandemic world? Would it be sourdough? Banana bread? Dalgona coffee? The answer for me is a trend that hasn’t quite hit mainland American shores in the same way—yet. It’s the sushi bake, and if there’s one lockdown food I’ll be happy to make on repeat when I finally relinquish sweatpants for real jeans, it’s this one.

What is a sushi bake?

Imagine a California-style roll, but deconstructed, layered, and baked in a casserole format: Seasoned rice is topped with furikake rice seasoning, a creamy, spicy mayo-laden seafood layer, more furikake, and drizzles of mayonnaise and Sriracha, and then it all gets heated up in the oven. After it comes out, let it cool long enough to set before spooning out portions onto seasoned Korean-style dried seaweed or gim (a.k.a. the roasted seaweed snack you might find in stores like Trader Joe’s) with optional garnishes of cucumber and avocado.

Where did the sushi bake come from?

I first started noticing sushi bakes on my social media feeds in the early summer of 2020, with the majority of the videos and images coming from the Philippines, where sushi bake had taken off in the early days of lockdown. It wasn’t only all the rage in home kitchens—there also seemed to be plenty of homegrown shops selling sushi bakes via pickup and delivery in and around the capital of Manila.

“When the quarantine started, my sister and I re-created recipes from TikTok and other social media platforms,” says Leiana Aika Go, who started Manila-based Sushi Lab with her sister, Debbie Ann Go. “The kitchen became our laboratory. It was an avenue for us to experiment with different flavors from sweet to savory. When the sushi bake craze went viral, we tried making one of our own, and it turned out to be so good that we decided we had to share it with others.”

The sushi bake has all the hallmarks of a great dish waiting to be brought to a potluck (remember those?): highly shareable; delicious warm; rich and creamy. And while parties of the usual kind aren’t condoned in the current environment, food that’s big on comfort and fun, to enjoy with your household pod, is welcome.

“Filipinos love to eat rice and share a good meal with their loved ones,” says Pamela Chuateco, the chef and owner of Taste & Tell, whose sushi bake trays are inspired by Japanese aburi-style, or flame-seared, sushi. “Given that everyone is spending so much time at home with their families due to quarantine protocol, the sushi trays have become such a big hit because it’s a really easy meal to share with the whole family.”

According to my friend and former colleague Rebekah Daniels, who grew up in Hawaii, sushi bake isn’t new and she’s always known it as an easy, crowd-pleasing party dish. “It seemed to always be a staple dish during holidays or special occasions,” she tells me. “And even in a more casual setting, it would be at a party or potluck since it was something that was meant to be shared with people. I’m sure that there are restaurants or places that will sell you trays of sushi bakes, but in my experience, they have always been homemade, often served cold or at room temp, or be placed in the oven for a bit so that it has a warm and melty texture.” (In my own research, I also found several delicious-looking uncooked renditions of the sushi casserole, in the form of a “pan sushi” and a “poke pan sushi” on beloved Hawaii grocery chain Foodland’s own site.)

https://www.bonappetit.com/story/sushi-bake?utm_source=pocket-newtab

[maxihealth]

My ABCovid-19 Journal – Day 5 of 5, Letters “U” through “Z”

We’ve had a lovely week on Seneca Lake, re-setting our physical, mental, and emotional clocks in the #KahnCave. It’s been blissful.

I’ve enjoyed receiving feedback on the past four days of ABCovid-19 journal shares on my LinkedIn page and Twitter feed @HealthyThinker. My #arttherapy is yours for the sharing and taking. We are all, truly, on this pandemic journey together. That’s public health, for you.

Today, I bring you the fifth and last day of sharing my COVID-19 alphabet with you: the letters “U” through “Z.” Read on, and please let me know after seeing all 26 alpha’s which page(s) you liked best. I’ve already started version 2 of this, to share new learnings and feelings I have as the U.S. didn’t really crush the curve we so hoped would happen back in April when I completed the pages you’ve seen.

Onward, health citizens.

U is for unemployment

The Great Lockdown of our lives via quarantining and sheltering-in-place also led to a lockdown of livelihoods for many people. I devoted the “U” page to unemployment. While there were other u-words I could have chosen, I wear the professional lens of an economist so this “U” was part of the early forecasting I was doing as COVID-19 took hold of our lives and our jobs.

I found an old scrapbook paper page featuring classified ads (remember those? Those of you who think Craig’s List is Old School won’t, so here’s a useful description of “the classifieds” from Advertising Age).

The photo at the upper left illustrates the dramatic growth up and up of job losses in the U.S. The nation went from 4.4% unemployment in February 2020 to 14.7% in March. As I write this post today, 13th August, nearly 1 mm more people signed up for unemployment benefits; the country recorded an UE rate of 10.2% in July 2020 as some people have returned to their workplaces since layoffs and furloughs began in February and sustained through March and April.

This page reminds the reader that a pandemic impacts not only physical health, but a nation’s people’s economic health and financial wellness. Health is, indeed, wealth.

V is for virus

“V” could have been for vaccine, too, which it will be in my Phase 2 version of the ABCovid-19 Journal v2.

On the “V” page, I lined the base with handmade paper from Florence, Italy, that has organic “bleeding” vertical lines that looked great with the flowing “V” card I found in a deck of alphabet cards.

I cut the chest x-ray image out of an old medical journal I had in my paper stash: we knew early on the respiratory disease aspects of the coronavirus, so this x-ray seemed well-placed here on the virus page.

On the left side, I used a photo from many that have been curated from microscopic images of the virus; this one, in colors that matched the Florentine paper.

I spelled out “virus” using letters from a three-dimensional foam alphabet set called “Thickers” to achieve a lumpy texture on the page.

W is for Wuhan

My last plane trip on business in 2020 was on February 27, when I was engaged to speak with the medical leaders of Sharp Healthcare System in San Diego, California. I always welcome the opportunity to head to San Diego because when it works out, I love to visit with the Scripps Research’s Dr. Eric Topol for a few minutes to brainstorm health, life, liberty, and our pursuits of happiness. I did so on the 27th after landing at SAN Airport, then drove on to the San Diego Marriott, the site of my meeting with the Sharp team.

We convened on Friday morning, the 28th, in a large ballroom — several hundred clinicians, managers, and me. Before I kicked off my early am keynote talk, a senior leader of the organization introduced the meeting with an update for the team on the status of personal protective equipment for the enterprise.

The short story was that, like the bulk of hospitals in the U.S., the source of #PPE (masks, gloves, and other disposable goods used every day by every clinician) was China — and specifically, factories located in Wuhan.

Wuhan was a hotspot for the coronavirus in China. The lockdown of the area led to a huge shock to the PPE supply chain. This article from 4th February WIRED spoke to the impending mask shortage due to the coronavirus in China.

That scenario was my up-close-and-personal intro to COVID-19 through the eyes of a client — a major health provider. I took extra time to consider and curate this “W” page, using Wuhan as the theme. I had this incredibly intricate scrapbook paper of a region of China, with snaking graphics and towns, some circled in red. The undulating design is organic and consistent with the viral context. I found a few travel stickers which were faux passport stamps from Chinese cities, and a red “traveller’s star” piece of ephemera at the bottom left.

I finished the page with a printed photo of a miniature map showing the location of Wuhan in its region.

X is for Disease “X”

In their research into pandemics, the World Health Organization (WHO) has a list of the worst of them; these include

COVID-19

Crimean-Congo haemorrhagic fever

Ebola virus disease and Marburg virus disease

Lassa fever

Middle East respiratory syndrome coronavirus (MERS-CoV) and Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS)

Nipah and henipaviral diseases

Rift Valley fever

Zika, and…

“Disease X.”

This ABCovid-19 journal page calls out Disease X as a warning: there will be yet another pandemic, as yet to be named.

But she’s out there. Be aware. Be prepared.

The base of this page is a map of The World because we are all in the pandemic world together…from Wuhan to Milan to Manhattan to Kirkland, Washington, and on to Austin and Boston and Atlanta and Houston and St. Louis, MO. In the U.S., the spread of COVID-19 would not be limited to the west and east coasts.

I found that surreal graphic at the right in a magazine article talking about Disease X which felt picture-perfect, albeit mega-disturbing… as appropriate.

Y is for yeast

One of the new life-flows awakened in consumers in the pandemic was home-cooking and, in particular, bread-making.

And specifically, sourdough became a normal, reassuring home-making activity. Posting homemade breads on Instagram became a thing for millions of people around the world.

But bread-making requires a basic ingredient called yeast, and in the Age of Corona, yeast was hard to find. USA Today wrote about the shortage, as did People magazine; this was a mainstream challenge which became symbolic as a DIY life-flow signaling control over “something.”

This ABC page is dedicated to that scarce commodity for our pandemic pantries. I lined the page with wonderful vintage kitchen/cooking scrapbook paper, on top layered with images of women cooking and serving with pride.

I love the old toaster on the left labeled “Bon Appetit.”

I took a picture of a plastic bag of flour I bought at Whole Foods which, in the early pandemic, had a shortage of baking supplies. The store had large industrial-sized sacks of flour in their storage area and the staff began to create 5 pound bags of it to satisfy shoppers’ growing baking jones.

Finally…

Z is for Zoom.

Of course, “Z” is for Zoom.

Zoom brought families together during the Judeo-Christian Holy Week in March 2020, for virtual Passover Seders among Jews sharing the annual ritual and Christians on Easter weekend communing in faith and Sunday meals on laptop monitors. Mashable wrote up a primer for how Jews could host a Passover Seder over Zoom. NBC did a “THINK” piece on how G-d could show up digitally in the pandemic, even via Zoom.

For this page, I started with one of my favorite paper lines I’ve hoarded over the years — it’s called “9 to 5” from October Afternoon, and feels a bit like “Mad Men” meets Michael’s or Joann Crafts. I used this paper series for a mini-book I made about my mom’s career, so I really do love the series.

I added in a vintage look journaling card, reminiscent of “Dick and Jane” book art, that reads, “Work at Home,” illustrating a “housewife” doing chores around the home…ironic twist to a page dedicated to a word for a platform that has enabled millions of workers the world over to collaborate online and tele-work from home in the lockdown era.

With Zoom, we complete all 26 letters of the ABCovid-19 alphabet.

It’s been my pleasure to open my #arttherapy kimono to share these pages with you. Each of us needs to hack our way through the mental and emotional side effects of the pandemic. For me, my creative outlets always give me a way to channel frustration, loneliness, and other negative feelings that detract from my resilience and positive energy. The feelings are really and must be acknowledged, but I try to constructively engage with them and arm-wrestle through creativity, processing them but killing them with creative kindness.

That’s more personal content than I usually share on Health Populi, but we live in very challenging times in the Age of Corona. Thank you for traveling this journey with me. We will persist, will will survive and thrive beyond the lockdowns. We’ll wear fashionable masks, find joy in small things, and get to hug each other at some point. Until those in-person hugs come, I wish you well, love, health, and your own constructive creative outlets.

The post My ABCovid-19 Journal – Day 5 of 5, Letters “U” through “Z” appeared first on HealthPopuli.com.

My ABCovid-19 Journal – Day 5 of 5, Letters “U” through “Z” posted first on https://carilloncitydental.blogspot.com

[easyfoodnetwork]

Eater Staffers Pick Their Favorite Smitten Kitchen Recipes

Pizza beans from Smitten Kitchen | Deb Perelman/Smitten Kitchen

Our editors cook more now than ever — and keep returning to Deb Perelman’s blog to do so

These days, Eater editors are eating out less and less, due to widespread restrictions on dining in and mandates nationwide to stay at home. That means we’re cooking a whole lot more, in addition to ordering delivery and takeout from places we love — and we’re also talking about cooking more than ever before. Sure, we can recognize quarantine queen Alison Roman’s shallot or cauliflower pastas, shiny blue Great Jones sheet pans, and a few specific brands of restaurant-level ceramics, even in a 10-second Instagram story — without tags. And sure, more and more of us fall prey to the siren call of sourdough starters every single day.

But one of the things we realized quickly is that almost everyone at Eater has a favorite Smitten Kitchen recipe, one created by OG recipe blogger Deb Perelman for her website and cookbooks under the same name. She’s widely renowned as one of the best in her field, with over a decade’s worth of “comfort food stepped up a bit” recipes, which have garnered her over 31,000 Twitter followers and over a million on Instagram — and just last week she announced a brand new cookbook in the works for Knopf. Here, now, some of Eater staffers’ most-cooked Smitten Kitchen recipes.

Roasted yams and chickpeas with yogurt: I make this easy-ass yam recipe once a week for lunch. It’s quick and simple, yes, but also packs in spice, sweetness, some crunch, creaminess, and char if you do a little broiling (which you should). It’s also largely made up of pantry staples. — Patty Diez, project manager

Charred cauliflower quesadillas: This is probably one of my go-to recipes when I can’t possibly think of what to cook or am feeling too lazy to make anything else. All of the basic ingredients — cheddar cheese, tortillas, and cauliflower — can be found in your corner store, and it works just as well if you sub it with a different veggie. The key here is the combination of textures: gooey, salty cheese, charred veggies, and a crisp tortilla — how could you possibly go wrong with that combination? — Tanay Warerkar, Eater NY reporter

Ratatouille’s ratatouille: This cartoon-inspired ratatouille has become my go-to showcase for summer vegetables. I’m not a very confident (or consistent) cook, but it’s incredibly easy to make for how impressive it looks, and at this point, it’s possibly the only recipe I’ve completely memorized. — Monica Burton, eater.com editor

Marbled banana bread: This banana bread is decadent and perfect. You’ll never look back. — Madeleine Davies, eater.com daily editor

Quick, essential stovetop mac and cheese: I heard about this recipe through Marian Bull’s Twitter and have been making it at least a couple times a month since. I started always keeping pecorino in my fridge — highly recommend — and had a period where I desperately wanted to eat cacio e pepe but couldn’t make it appropriately at home. This easy stovetop mac and cheese, when made with pecorino, and extra fresh black pepper, is a much easier facsimile. And truly is so fast and easy. Enjoy with a glass of wine to feel fancy. — Serena Dai, Eater NY editor

Pizza beans / tomato and gigante bean bake: The headnote to this recipe calls it baked ziti where the ziti is replaced by giant beans. What could be more perfect? I first heard about the pizza beans when reporting on bean obsession, and now that I’ve made them I completely understand why the bean obsessives were, um, obsessed. Cook up the beans Saturday, bake them up Sunday, and feast for the entire week on creamy, absurdly large beans covered in tomato and cheese. — Meghan McCarron, special correspondent

Deb Perelman/Smitten Kitchen

Everyday meatballs from Smitten Kitchen

Everyday meatballs: I’m pretty obsessed with meatballs (one year I made 53 different recipes for them as a cooking challenge), and I walked away from that experience thinking that this was the best classic meatball recipe I made. I love how cheesy and satisfying these are, and you don’t even need to make pasta alongside it for it to work as a meal (but I fully endorse Deb’s tip to serve it with garlic bread for extra decadence). — Missy Frederick, cities director

Black pepper tofu and eggplant: I first made this when I found myself in possession of an eggplant from a produce box and wasn’t sure what to do with it. It’s now one of my favorite weeknight recipes. I think it finally solved the problem of roasted tofu for me — it’s crispy every time, and so delicious drenched in buttery soy sauce. Serve with chile oil. — Emma Alpern, senior copy editor

Chicken, leek, and rice soup: My first coronavirus cooking recipe was chicken, leeks, and rice soup. Now I regret not buying more chicken thighs so I could have this on hand for a quick meal. I will double the recipe next time. As a side note, a friend gave me her dad’s five-gallon stock pot after he passed away in January, and she was so happy that I broke it in with this soup. — Susan Stapleton, Eater Vegas editor

Easiest fridge dill pickles: I love making a jar of these. — Adam Moussa, senior social media manager

Blueberry yogurt multigrain pancakes: You may think you don’t need another pancake recipe. YOU ARE WRONG. — Lesley Suter, travel editor

Chocolate olive oil cake: Don’t have eggs? Don’t have butter? Can’t leave your house? This is the perfect pantry cake. Most of the ingredients you probably have lying around, plus it’s delicious and lasts for days. — Jill Dehnert, general manager

Strawberry summer cake: I don’t consume much dairy, so I never kept milk at home — until last summer when this strawberry cake came into my life and I started making it for every possible occasion. It’s excellent with any sort of strawberries but truly perfect at peak season, with the little smushy berries that smell incredible and stain whatever you put them in. I bake it in a 9x9 square. — Sonia Chopra

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2UQ7oR7 https://ift.tt/2UZaD90

Pizza beans from Smitten Kitchen | Deb Perelman/Smitten Kitchen

Our editors cook more now than ever — and keep returning to Deb Perelman’s blog to do so

These days, Eater editors are eating out less and less, due to widespread restrictions on dining in and mandates nationwide to stay at home. That means we’re cooking a whole lot more, in addition to ordering delivery and takeout from places we love — and we’re also talking about cooking more than ever before. Sure, we can recognize quarantine queen Alison Roman’s shallot or cauliflower pastas, shiny blue Great Jones sheet pans, and a few specific brands of restaurant-level ceramics, even in a 10-second Instagram story — without tags. And sure, more and more of us fall prey to the siren call of sourdough starters every single day.

But one of the things we realized quickly is that almost everyone at Eater has a favorite Smitten Kitchen recipe, one created by OG recipe blogger Deb Perelman for her website and cookbooks under the same name. She’s widely renowned as one of the best in her field, with over a decade’s worth of “comfort food stepped up a bit” recipes, which have garnered her over 31,000 Twitter followers and over a million on Instagram — and just last week she announced a brand new cookbook in the works for Knopf. Here, now, some of Eater staffers’ most-cooked Smitten Kitchen recipes.

Roasted yams and chickpeas with yogurt: I make this easy-ass yam recipe once a week for lunch. It’s quick and simple, yes, but also packs in spice, sweetness, some crunch, creaminess, and char if you do a little broiling (which you should). It’s also largely made up of pantry staples. — Patty Diez, project manager

Charred cauliflower quesadillas: This is probably one of my go-to recipes when I can’t possibly think of what to cook or am feeling too lazy to make anything else. All of the basic ingredients — cheddar cheese, tortillas, and cauliflower — can be found in your corner store, and it works just as well if you sub it with a different veggie. The key here is the combination of textures: gooey, salty cheese, charred veggies, and a crisp tortilla — how could you possibly go wrong with that combination? — Tanay Warerkar, Eater NY reporter

Ratatouille’s ratatouille: This cartoon-inspired ratatouille has become my go-to showcase for summer vegetables. I’m not a very confident (or consistent) cook, but it’s incredibly easy to make for how impressive it looks, and at this point, it’s possibly the only recipe I’ve completely memorized. — Monica Burton, eater.com editor

Marbled banana bread: This banana bread is decadent and perfect. You’ll never look back. — Madeleine Davies, eater.com daily editor

Quick, essential stovetop mac and cheese: I heard about this recipe through Marian Bull’s Twitter and have been making it at least a couple times a month since. I started always keeping pecorino in my fridge — highly recommend — and had a period where I desperately wanted to eat cacio e pepe but couldn’t make it appropriately at home. This easy stovetop mac and cheese, when made with pecorino, and extra fresh black pepper, is a much easier facsimile. And truly is so fast and easy. Enjoy with a glass of wine to feel fancy. — Serena Dai, Eater NY editor

Pizza beans / tomato and gigante bean bake: The headnote to this recipe calls it baked ziti where the ziti is replaced by giant beans. What could be more perfect? I first heard about the pizza beans when reporting on bean obsession, and now that I’ve made them I completely understand why the bean obsessives were, um, obsessed. Cook up the beans Saturday, bake them up Sunday, and feast for the entire week on creamy, absurdly large beans covered in tomato and cheese. — Meghan McCarron, special correspondent

Deb Perelman/Smitten Kitchen

Everyday meatballs from Smitten Kitchen

Everyday meatballs: I’m pretty obsessed with meatballs (one year I made 53 different recipes for them as a cooking challenge), and I walked away from that experience thinking that this was the best classic meatball recipe I made. I love how cheesy and satisfying these are, and you don’t even need to make pasta alongside it for it to work as a meal (but I fully endorse Deb’s tip to serve it with garlic bread for extra decadence). — Missy Frederick, cities director

Black pepper tofu and eggplant: I first made this when I found myself in possession of an eggplant from a produce box and wasn’t sure what to do with it. It’s now one of my favorite weeknight recipes. I think it finally solved the problem of roasted tofu for me — it’s crispy every time, and so delicious drenched in buttery soy sauce. Serve with chile oil. — Emma Alpern, senior copy editor

Chicken, leek, and rice soup: My first coronavirus cooking recipe was chicken, leeks, and rice soup. Now I regret not buying more chicken thighs so I could have this on hand for a quick meal. I will double the recipe next time. As a side note, a friend gave me her dad’s five-gallon stock pot after he passed away in January, and she was so happy that I broke it in with this soup. — Susan Stapleton, Eater Vegas editor

Easiest fridge dill pickles: I love making a jar of these. — Adam Moussa, senior social media manager

Blueberry yogurt multigrain pancakes: You may think you don’t need another pancake recipe. YOU ARE WRONG. — Lesley Suter, travel editor

Chocolate olive oil cake: Don’t have eggs? Don’t have butter? Can’t leave your house? This is the perfect pantry cake. Most of the ingredients you probably have lying around, plus it’s delicious and lasts for days. — Jill Dehnert, general manager

Strawberry summer cake: I don’t consume much dairy, so I never kept milk at home — until last summer when this strawberry cake came into my life and I started making it for every possible occasion. It’s excellent with any sort of strawberries but truly perfect at peak season, with the little smushy berries that smell incredible and stain whatever you put them in. I bake it in a 9x9 square. — Sonia Chopra

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