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thedisneychef · 1 year ago

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Experience Tonga Toast at Disney World's Kona Cafe

I didn’t mean to do two breakfast recipes this week… And I didn’t mean to do yet another recipe from Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort… Yet, here we are. I can’t help it. I love that resort and I adore their food options. What other place has more classic dining experiences under one roof than Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort? Dole Whips, chicken wings, welcome bread… It’s all amazing! But what food-related profile of Disney’ Polynesian Village Resort would be complete without mentioning possibly the most famous, the most sought after, the most coveted breakfast of all? More Delicious Recipes You Will Love: - Tie-dye Cheesecake – Disney’s Pop Century Resort - Tostadas De Tinga – San Angel Inn - Wolfgang Puck Bacon Wrapped Meatloaf – Wolfgang Puck Express That’s right… Tonga toast. Oh, Tonga toast… Let’s talk about the fanatical, devoted fanbase that people have for Tonga pineapple pancakes and Tonga toast. You wake up to that smell every morning? You just have to have it. You can’t blame them for being practically obsessed with it. And the people not at the Polynesian? Let’s just say I’ve seen some insane daily plans from people, plans that involve getting up super early, taking multiple buses, or walking a mile just so they can get to the Polynesian to have their slice of Tonga toast. It’s no joke people… Tonga toast is a big thing.toast. The Run Disney runners are obsessed with it because it’s a bounty of perfect race foods… Bananas, carb-loaded toast, heaping piles of sugar. I think Kona Cafe becomes on par with Be Our Guest during race weekends in terms of how hard it is to get a reservation. Runners want their Tonga toast. Guests at Disney’s Polynesian Village resort are equally as obsessed with the stuff. How can they not be? Every morning the only smell that hits you in the lobby is I didn’t get the magic of the Tonga toast until I stayed at Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort for the second time. On our last day, my mom had ordered it at Kona and I tried a bite. That one bite left me hooked. It was sweet banana heaven on a plate (my mom didn’t like it… She’s not a fan of French toast… I know, she’s crazy). I very nearly regretted ordering the pineapple pancakes instead. Nearly… I’m obsessed with pineapple. Anyway, this is like an eggless banana-stuffed french toast meets sweet Monte Cristo sandwich. Banana is stuffed in bread, deep fried until golden, drenched with sugar and cinnamon and served warm, sometimes with syrup, sometimes without. Occasionally people get a strawberry puree drizzle on top and I’ve seen one strange soul claim that ketchup (?!) on it is the bomb. This recipe made my mouth and my tummy so happy (then immediately made it sad again because I’m on a diet for the Wine and Dine Half Marathon and sugar coated toast isn’t part of the training plan). This tastes exactly, to the smallest detail, exactly like what they serve at Kona Cafe. Sweet, warm, banana so warm it’s gooey, crunchy, and just plain good. It smells like heaven, it tastes like heaven. Put a blindfold on me and turn on some tropical music and I’d tell you I was sitting in a gorgeous tropical-themed lobby of one of my favorite resorts getting ready to grab a monoral for a day at EPCOT. The morning before the half marathon in November, I have a breakfast scheduled at Kona for 7:30. I’m going to go, load up my plate, and eat this like I’m about to run 13.1 miles and not regret a bite of it. I can’t remember a recipe that’s made me this antsy to get back to Walt Disney World as this one has. In addition to the delicious food and recipes, Disney World is also known for its unique dining experiences, such as character dining and themed restaurants. Whether you want to have breakfast with Mickey Mouse, dine in a replica of a sci-fi drive-in theater at Hollywood Studios, or enjoy a meal with an ocean view at the Coral Reef Restaurant in Epcot, there's something for everyone. And with the help of Recipes Today and the How to Make category, you can even recreate some of these magical dining experiences in your own home. So why not start planning your next Disney-inspired meal or dining experience today? Read the full article

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lonelyreputation · 4 years ago

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Unofficially Official

A/N: These dialogue prompts were requested quite a few times, so I combined them! Enjoy going to a hockey game with Shawn 🏒🥶

Request: Your hands are so cold & Hey, are you still awake?

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: None! // WC: 2.2K // Fluff

Being Canadian, there were a lot of stereotypes that came with the nationality: Tim Horton’s being God’s blessing to the earth, everyone was always a bit too polite, and you were expected to live and breathe hockey.

While you found most of the stereotypes true, there was one aspect of yourself that your friends always thought made you “un-Canadian.” And it was that you couldn’t care less about hockey.

You were never vocal about your indifference toward the game. Most of your friends learned how to skate on the ice at the same time they learned to walk, but not you. You always went to support your friends at their hockey games, but other than the sound of the puck gliding on the ice, nothing about the game appealed to you.

And whenever you got caught up in a hockey conversation, you would nod along and smile, not understanding what forechecking or icing meant.

The most recent time where hockey was brought up in conversation was when you were at a twenty-four hour diner with your friends, and the boy you just started seeing, Shawn. It was well known that Shawn was a hockey fanatic, and you had yet to tell him that the game he obsessed over was one you didn’t care much about.

The twenty-four hour diner was a spot you wound up at with your friends every Saturday night during high school. And with it being all of your last years at University, everyone thought it would be fun to relive the “glory days.” And while you were all for reliving your so called “glory days,” Shawn was finally home after finishing up tour, and you asked your friends if he could tag along.

And that’s how you found yourself in a booth, pressed between the side wall and Shawn, with his arm lazily hanging around your shoulder. Your head was rested on his shoulder as you mindlessly paid attention to Shawn and your friends conversing about hockey.

“How do you talk hockey with this one?” One of your friends threw a french fry at you. You scrunched up your nose and flipped them off, “I hardly consider her Canadian.”

Shawn tilted his head at your friend, “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t like hockey,” another one of your friend’s piped in and you saw Shawn’s eyes widen as his head turned to face you, “She’s weird, isn’t she?”

“What?” Shawn’s attention was solely on you now, blocking out all of your friends saying how weird it was that you didn’t like the sport.

You raised your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes as you shrugged, “Never got into it.”

Shawn scrunched up his nose, “So you don’t like hockey?”

You tried your hardest to keep your laughter in as you looked at his genuinely offended face, “Just indifferent.”

“Basically the same thing,” Shawn scoffed as he shook his head, “I’m taking you to a game.”

“Shawn, you don’t––”

“I think the Leafs have a game coming up?” Another one of your friends piped into the conversation.

“I don’t think–––”

Shawn completely ignored you and engaged with your friend who brought up the Leafs game, “Home?”

And while you were still pressed into his side, his thumb drawing soft circles on your shoulder, he was making plans for a hockey game as if you weren’t right next to him. You let out a huff, took a sip of your milkshake, and leaned your head back down on his shoulder.

///

“Get,” Shawn jumped around you as the two of you walked toward your seats, “Excited!”

You rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, shivering a bit from how cold the arena felt. Pathetically, you lifted your index finger up, and did a small twirl with your finger, “Woo.”

“How do you consider yourself Canadian?” Shawn chuckled as he blindly reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Your hands,” he put his other hand on top of your clasped hands, rubbing them together, “are so cold.”

You rolled your eyes at him and bumped your shoulder against his as a silent response.

The smile on your face widened as you looked down at your locked hands, still not used to the fact that you could hold Shawn’s hand whenever you wanted. It blew your mind that he wanted to hold your hand.

But you would never complain about that.

The two of you had been friends for about two years, but just within the past three months, your friendship progressed into some sort of relationship. It started out as a few coffee outings, Shawn stating that he wanted to know you more––Just one on one. Then coffee turned into getting lunch. Lunch turned into a few kisses and hand holding. And then that progressed into dinner dates and keeping an eye out on his Toronto apartment whenever he was out of town.

Nothing was official between the two of you, and while you wanted nothing more than to put a title on your relationship, you didn’t want to come off as clingy. He was Shawn Mendes after all, and while that didn’t matter much to you…You didn’t know if he wanted to have a girlfriend.

Shawn looked down at the tickets in his free hand to make sure you were at the right section. When he looked up at the number on the wall and saw that it matched, he pulled you under the archway, and walked down the steps with you until you got to your assigned row.

He let you walk in first, keeping a hand on the small of your back, until you got to your designated seats. You pulled the plastic seat down, and right when you sat down, Shawn threw an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m so excited for you.”

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder as the tips of his fingers ran up and down up and down your bicep, “I’m excited to see you in your element.”

Shawn smiled as he ducked his head, placing an innocent kiss on your lips, before returning his eyes to the sight of the ice, “It’s an exciting day for both of us.”

Soon enough, the game started and you tried your best to keep up with everything. The puck moved too fast, the players skated in circles too much that you couldn’t keep up, and you tried to listen to Shawn as he whispered a play by play in your ear.

Every time the Maple Leafs scored, Shawn jumped up, pulling you up by your hand, and pressed a short kiss to your lips. You didn’t know much about hockey, but you did know that you wanted the Leafs to score as much as possible if Shawn gave you a kiss every time.

Shawn was sitting on the edge of his seat for the first two quarters as if there were only seconds left in the game.

“You should be on the field based on your enthusiasm,” you poked his cheek and laughed when he turned to look at you, eyes wide with a hint of disgust.

“Field?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Rink,” you corrected yourself, “You should be out on the ice rink.”

Shawn shook his head and poked your cheek in retaliation, “They should just revoke your citizenship now.”

You swatted his finger away, “You’re mean.”

Shawn laughed as he caught your hand in the air, slotting his fingers with yours and resting your clasped hands on his lap, “Me? Mean?” He chuckled, “I’m the nicest boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

You froze in your seat. You felt your hands start to clam up as your eyes widen on their own accord.

Shawn had just called himself your boyfriend.

Did that make you two official? Did that mean he wanted to keep spending time with you? Did that mean he saw a future with you in it?

With him defining his title, you figured that all of the answers to your questions were yes, he wanted all of those things with you. And while that made you the happiest person on the planet in that moment, you know that your tense body language probably said the complete opposite to him.

“Everything alright?” Shawn pulled his eyebrows together as he nervously looked over at you, “Do you…not want me to be your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened even more, voice getting caught in your throat, until everything just came out at once.

“No, no, of course I want you to be my boyfriend––I didn’t know if you––Honestly nothing would make me happier––We’ve been dating, but I didn’t know if you wanted to keep dating me––And I didn't know if you wanted a relationship––”

Shawn let out a nervous laugh as he ran a hand through his curls, “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” you weakly chuckled as your eyes briefly drifted to the zamboni that was smoothing over the ice, before you looked back at Shawn’s terrified face, “I was just caught a little off guard. We never had…The talk.”

This time, Shawn let out a real genuine laugh, “The talk?” He shook his head, “Y/n, I like you. And I know you like me,” he smirked a little, “What more is there to it?”

When he broke it down in such simple terms, it made sense. You liked him. He liked you. And while it was never explicitly mentioned, you both knew that neither one of you were seeing nor talking to anyone else since you started going out for coffee a few months ago.

You shrugged your shoulders, insecurity filling up your mind because in this moment you felt like such a child. You didn’t mean to make such a big deal about defining the relationship, but in this day in age, you felt like you needed it to keep yourself sane.

“I didn’t really see the point in us having ‘the talk,’” Shawn shrugged his shoulders, “We like each other, we’ve been dating for a while now, and I just…I’ve considered you my girlfriend for a while now? I call you my girlfriend when I talk to friends and family––And I––I’ve already asked Andrew to look ahead at my touring schedule to see when you can come visit––And I really really like you––”

“You’re rambling,” you smiled at him as you shot his words right back at him.

He rolled his eyes, “My point is,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance, “I would really like it if you were my girlfriend and if I was your boyfriend.”

You didn’t stop the wide smile that came across your face, “That sounds nice.”

Shawn returned your smile and pressed a kiss to your cold cheek that now burned, “Whatever you say, girlfriend.” He winked at you before turning his head forward to look at the ice.

You chose not to respond, instead choosing to lean your head on his shoulder. You pressed a small kiss at the base of his neck and when you glanced up at him, you saw a wide smile spread across his face.

With the zamboni driving off the ice, you knew the game would restart soon.

Shawn’s arm stayed around your shoulder for the rest of the game. And you kept your head on his shoulder, soaking up every ounce of warmth from him. While Shawn was enchanted with the movement of the puck, you found yourself paying attention to his even breathing more than the game.

Feeling his gentle breathing was calming, and while everyone in the arena was focused on the game, you felt your eyes start to flutter.

“Hey,” you took a deep breath and opened your eyes to see Shawn softly caressing your cheek, “are you still awake?”

You were about to answer with barely, but all of a sudden, an airhorn blasted throughout the arena that caused your head to jolt up from his shoulder. It was the most ear splitting sound you had ever heard.

Your eyes widened in panic, but when you looked over at Shawn, his straight face broke out into laughter.

Shoving his shoulder, you mumbled, “Shut up.”

His eyes were still shut tight as he laughed, and while you were trying to calm down your breathing, you couldn’t help but smile at how the corners of his eyes crinkled. He said something about the game being almost over, but all you were focused on was being able to lean your head on his shoulder again.

And when his attention finally turned back to the game, you got comfortable and rested your head on his shoulder. As if on instinct, Shawn’s arm curled back around your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

With his arm around you, and a wide smile on both of your faces because you two were official now…After being unofficially official for a while. And you started to think that you could start becoming a “real” Canadian and acquire an interest for hockey.

Taglist (add / remove yourself): @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter @par_r @perfectlywrongsm @lovelysunset1 @samaratheweirdo

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes Imagine #Shawn Mendes Story #Shawn Mendes Fic #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes one shots #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes blurbs #Shawn Mendes request #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Mendes writings #wonder

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siryamsalot · 7 years ago

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Gargoyles is a really good show, so here’s a little tribute to some of my favorite villains; David Xanatos and Owen Burnett (and my lovely fae child Puck)

#drawing Owen's hair brought back memories of my days as a Draco Malfoy fanatic #so thanks for those memories I guess #gargoyles #sorry that these are a little rushed #david xanatos #owen burnett #puck #gargoyles puck #gargoyles owen burnett #gargoyles david xanatos #my art #rae's fae #disney's gargoyles

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imobsessed123 · 3 months ago

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guess who i am with one word

PUCK

HI RANIA

#ngl you were one of my first guesses #but I was like ‘nah she wouldn’t do that ‘#lexi says stupid stuff #thanks for the ask!#the puck fanatic

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checkdispleased · 4 years ago

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hi, i love the podcast! (Parse iii episode was transcendent.) I have a kind of specific question: when do we learn that jacks overdose was on purpose? I formed the idea in 2015 that it was part of a pattern of suicidally unwise but not specifically suicidal benzo abuse, which I assume was jossed? But it’s also connected to my other question: what do you two think about jacks relationship to drugs? Sry if you’ve already answered either of these!

thank you so much!!! <3 <3 <3

I am not the podcast’s resident good rememberer, so Sekrit almost certainly has more accurate information to add, but as I remember, Ngozi implies Jack’s overdose was purposeful in two places: one I cannot currently remember (sorry); the other, which I can definitely confirm, is in Y4′s secret Parse strip, 4.19. while passive-aggressively feeding Parse pie, Bitty angrily says, “You called [Jack] worthless...after knowing he took time off because––how he almost took his own––because he almost believed he wasn’t worth anything.”

tragically, Ngozi, as far as I remember, has never confirmed Jack’s anxiety meds were benzos, although fandom talked about this fairly endlessly and I personally am hard-pressed to figure out what other anxiety meds would have caused this specific reaction and life-threatening danger besides benzos + alcohol. my suspicion is that she didn’t actually think as deeply about Jack’s specific drug use as the fandom does, and was using the anxiety meds as a kind of symbolic figure, unlike me who loves to write long tumblr essays about the specific psychotropic drugs Jack takes and their likely impact on him!

I’m sure Sekrit has more to add about Jack’s relationship to drugs since we pretty regularly talk about Jack’s heroin use in the MFA AU we keep egging each other into writing more of, but I personally think even within canon that he’s an addict - not only in the sense of, like, he’s addicted to drugs (although he was/is), but also like, he’s at 0% or 110%, he’s committed to hockey in a fanatically bizarre way, and he is the central figure around which Bitty’s enabling appeasement flutters. you know what I mean? regulation and moderation are not really words that describe Jack, and given his history of misusing his meds in some fashion, it’s easy to imagine that he would continue to misuse substances and/or the glorified self-harm of hockey to fulfill the black hole where his dad should have loved him better.

je blague, je blague, but also, we all read 1.10, right?

all that said, I think Jack probably smoked weed and drank alcohol as a teenager, and probably mixed alcohol and his meds in a dangerous way. given my impression that he was pretty into partying, I think it’s really easy to imagine other things, too - everyone I knew was into molly, coke, and adderall right around the time Jack was in the Q, so it’s easy to transfer that into the Rimouski scene. presumably these things are all over Samwell, too, and coke and opioids are both pretty notoriously part of professional hockey, so it’s not like he’d lose access to any of this except while in rehab and possibly under his parents’ roof. we don’t get a lot of canon information about Jack’s anxiety treatment, so while the comic clearly wants us to believe that the power of Bitty’s love helps Jack get his anxiety under control I think it’s just as easy to read Jack as self-medicating off-screen - it would at least explain why his personality disappears after he and Bitty start to come out to everyone!

I don’t mean to be dismissive when I say: once an addict, always an addict. and I don’t mean that in the medical model of addiction, exactly; I just mean that Jack, given that he is a giant weirdo with an insane life and at least sometimes debilitating levels of obsession and anxiety, would likely keep seeking external methods of emotional regulation, whether it’s through a particularly accommodating RN with a prescription pad or through continuously breaking his teeth on hockey pucks so that the endorphin rush - and maybe also the short-term oxy scrip - get him through the day.

am I projecting for various embarrassing personal reasons? oh, almost certainly. but hey! that’s what fandom’s about. that, and fanfic; I am excruciatingly slowly writing a fanfic about this and have been my entire time in Check Please fandom, so more from me on this...someday, probably after some other real dark shit I got on the burner.

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csykora · 4 years ago

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Vanya, 1961

We have to talk about Wayne.

[A black and white photor of Wayne Gretzy, with a sultry mullet, smiling at the camera.]

I did not want to talk about Wayne, here. But it’s like Wayne Gretzky has bodyslammed his way into my kitchen and been chatting all month.

If you google it, Wayne Gretzky’s family background comes up as Russian, Belarussian, Ukrainian, Polish, all of those or just ‘something suspiciously Russianish.’ (If I spell his name wrong somewhere it’s because 1) I can’t spell 2) I’m still dealing with how it would more properly be pronounced “Hretzky”.)

The region his grandparents left just before 1918 had been several countries that don’t exist anymore, and mostly a war zone. At home, they spoke Ukrainian. Wayne’s father Walter Gretzky grew up in Ontario, in the Ukrainian language, and in hockey, but when he tried out for the NHL in ’54 he was told that he “just wasn’t big enough” for Canada’s game at 5’9”. That same year Coach Tarasov had brought his Soviet team to their very first World Championships. They won an unexpected gold, and they were…undersized.

By the ’60s, Valeri Kharlamov hit the world stage…at a glorious 5’8”. (He wasn’t even the top scorer that first year—that went to Anatoli Firsov, also 5’9”.) Walter’s son was weaving between tin cans and bleach bottles in the backyard, while Coach Tarasov taught his skaters to circle cones.

Krutov, Larionov, and Makarov stood 5’9”, 5’9” and 5’8” all together. None of them would have been favorites to make the NHL if they had been born in Canada in the ’50s (or today). Wayne had to go and be a 6 foot freak, but he grew up playing his dad’s short hockey. Swooping ballet-and-chess hockey. You know, Soviet hockey.

"The Soviets and Gretzky changed the NHL game,” says Ken Dryden. "Gretzky, the kid from Brantford with the Belarusian name, was the acceptable face of Soviet hockey. No Canadian kid wanted to play like Makarov or Larionov. They all wanted to play like Gretzky."

Before the ’81 final Coach Tikhonov hammered on Slava’s shoulder and told the Green Unit, “‘You’re going to play all the time against him. Every time he’s on ice, you have to go.’”

Sergei and Slava knew Wayne’s game already, from the ’78 World Juniors.

[Teenage Slava and Wayne holding each other in the handshake line. Wayne is making eye contact with the camera and I want to smack him with a rolled up newspaper.]

“I never give him space, I never give him time,” Slava said. “I knew he was going to kill us. If I would say I knew all the time what he would do, I would be a fool. That’s why he’s the Great One. He’s got lots of—what you call them?—in his sleeve, to pull out.”

The Canadians put on the pressure at first, generating lots of shots, but the Soviet game didn’t care about shot differential. By the second, the Green Unit got bored of shutting down shots and confiscated the Canadians’ puck. With Sergei and Vova sliding in and out of that tight formation around Igor, and Slava and Lyosha swinging around them like counterweights, they passed it back and forth instead of forward, often sliding it out sideways to a player they couldn’t possibly see coming in hot behind them.

[Vova, skating daintily down the ice into the attacking zone, about to catch the puck out of the air with his stick.]

Igor, who was starting to see himself as the benevolent Russian mother to his little family of five, ‘feeding’ them points when they whined about being hungry, claimed the first goal. The others took care of scoring seven more.

[Igor celebrating in front of the goal with Vova stuffed under his arm, as Sergei gets ready to jump on them and the Canadians look on.]

Moments after the loss, Wayne was breathless. “Just can’t compete,” he said into the postgame crowd of cameras. “Just too . . . difficult.”

“To see them dismantle us 8–1 was mind-boggling, because we were such a good team,” he said after. “‘If they beat this team 8–1, how good are they?’”

He knew Sergei and Slava, as much as they knew him. But it was his first tournament at the men’s level, just like Larionov’s. They were both 20 year-old top line centers, bizarre phenomena, both not quite fast enough to make up for not being strong enough, which forced them to become almost orchestral conductors of the players around them.

"Definitely,” Wayne thought, staring across the ice. “He saw the ice the same as me. Passing the puck, hockey sense, probably as similar to me as any player who has played the game."

Igor was in the middle of his own revelation. Two months ago he’d been in the two-stoplight town he’d lived all his life. “Now here I was, playing against men I’d heard and read about for years. It was a great feeling, and we won that last game so decisively, but so many feelings were pressing in on me….” He was basking in the abundance of newspapers, something new to read every day.

The Canada Cup wrapped up with a weird interlude where Alan Eagleson wouldn’t let the Soviet team take the actual Canada Cup out of Canada with them, because it had cost too much money. A trucker from Winnipeg thought that was shabby, so he put together a fundraiser and got his buddy who cast truck parts to make a copy of the Cup, which he presented to the Soviet ambassador Aleksandr Yakovlev, who thanked him and gave him a different hockey trophy that he literally had lying around and a Russian hockey training manual to, quote, “open up the secrets of our national game.” The exchange was greeted with rapturous boos from the crowd whenever anyone said “Alan Eagleson.” The hockey-fanatic Winnipeg trucker told the papers that, just to be clear, yes he was a red-blooded Canadian nationalist, but he hated NHL leadership so much he had to help the Ruskies win.

Wayne would do whatever it took to get his hands on some Soviet secrets too, by which I mean ‘Igor Larionov’s phone number.’

Main

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#green unit #wayne gretzky #igor larionov #slava fetisov #sergei makarov #vladimir krutov #long post

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st-louis · 4 years ago

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okay here’s an ask: how many jerseys/pieces of team merch for NHL teams do you have, and which are your favourites?

so for team merch i kind of have some random stuff i’ve either been given or got at games (or in some cases bought) because i don’t really buy anything except jerseys that often. but i do own: a signed jake voracek ministick, a habs ministick, a flyers/habs first round commemorative puck, a gritty shirt they gave out at one of the games, and a habs shirsey.

jerseys:

tk black third (it’s a fanatics child sized jersey so unfortunately the quality is not The Best but it fits me fine)

hart stadium series (also fanatics child sized, lmao)

simmer home authentic

coots reverse retro authentic

suzuki reverse retro authentic

#the double reverse retro purchases were kind of a splurge but........ like shaving my head sometimes when i'm sad i spend money #Anonymous #questions

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thedisneychef · 1 year ago

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Experience Tonga Toast at Disney World's Kona Cafe

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