#try to get sauces with SIMPLE ingredients too

[petermorwood]

Hello! I wondered if you had any easy (and requiring few ingredients) recipes for a student? I tend to go through your food tag for inspiration but a lot of stuff seems to require more advanced cookware than the simple pan/oven or needs quite a few ingredients. Thought I'd ask!

#food and drink is a wide-ranging topic, so try #recipe / #recipes for more specific information.

IIRC a lot of them call for one or at most two pans and not many ingredients - scrambled eggs with herbs / snipped green onions and chopped bacon or sausage, for instance, needs just one pan.

Fry the meat first, take it out, add the eggs, and when they start to thicken return the meat along with herbs / onions, combine the lot, cook until the eggs are As You Like Them, then serve up on hot buttered toast with a sprinkle of Tabasco and maybe grated cheese if there's any in the fridge.

*****

You'll find various soups and stews - ours, and from other sources - which again need only some basic ingredients and then, unlike the speed of those scrambled eggs, another ingredient which you can't buy at the shop.

Time.

*****

I've mentioned more than once that even a jar of heat-and-stir-in pasta sauce is hugely improved by letting the heating be a half-hour on the stove rather than a minute in the microwave.

Pour it into a saucepan and heat to the very gentle simmer which in French is called mijouter (what I call "blip, not bloop").

Add your choice of black pepper / chilli flakes / garlic powder / dried herbs / a splash of Worcester sauce / balsamic vinegar / wine and stir well in. Any or all of those additions will elevate the end result well above what it was when the jar was opened.

Partly cover with a lid to contain any splats, set a timer for 30 minutes, then go do something else.

When the timer goes, return to the stove, stir the sauce, cook whatever pasta you fancy, drain it, combine with the sauce, plate up and get stuck in.

*****

If feeling more adventurous there's a recipe here...

...for simple pasta (or tomato) sauce from scratch.

NB, the recipe doesn't have salt as an ingredient. This is a personal preference and I've never missed it, but YMMV. Taste first, add salt second.

It's remarkably good and, though vaguely Italian, is non-specific enough that with appropriate tweaks of herb or spice it's been used as a cooking sauce for meat, meatballs or poultry.

Those tweaks have included lots of black pepper and / or a dollop of horseradish for beef, some dried tarragon and / or sour cream for chicken, thick slices of onion and green pepper for meatballs, and that was before I started thinking about what could be done with spice mixes like baharat, quatre-épices, garam masala or herbes de Provence...

*****

The basic sauce is vegetarian, maybe even vegan, so try using it for carrots peeled and split lengthwise or cut in thick slices, quartered potatoes, some sliced red and green peppers, maybe a drained tin of beans or chickpeas. If carnivorous, regard this as side veggies. If vegetarian, it's the main course.

(Hint: though it'll involve a second pan, frying the carrots and potatoes enough to brown their edges before going in the sauce is A Good Move.)

Check in 30 minutes, then again in 45. You'll know the carrots and spuds are done when a knife-point, fork or cocktail stick stabs in easily. Once they're done, everything else is also done. Taste again, and perhaps sprinkle with a tiny amount of vinegar or lemon juice to balance the carrot sweetness.

Serve with rice, couscous, or just some crusty farmhouse bread to mop with.

Hope This Helps! :->

[lesless]

I have a slew of digestion issues & the thing that consistently helps me most is also really simple: daily salad. I’m so serious, if you have digestion troubles please just buy a tub of pre-chopped butter lettuce & a tub of spring mix (with NO SPINACH because that goes bad fastest & will ruin the tub) & get yourself some deli meats & a few dressings you like & make yourself a salad every day. It’s so annoying that it works. I take a handful of the two boxes of leaves & shred up some lunch meat & squirt some dressing on it & I’m done. If you wanna get fancy you can throw some other stuff on there but most days I’m busy or tired or lazy & two handfuls of leaves/turkey breast/leaf sauce & I’m done & I feel better day to day. Just give it a try for a week you’ll thank me.

[urhoneycombwitch]

frozen like an angel

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader holiday edition.

foreword: ohhhh I’ve missed them!!! and you all!!!! happy holidays to those who celebrate, and for those who don’t, have a cozy winter fic <3 here is the masterlist for shy!reader, some references may be made to previous fics in the series but no beforehand reading required here. 

cw: Christmas activities, bittersweet fluff, Elizabeth Munson memories, mentions of Reader’s familial backstory (intentionally a bit vague, hoping to expand in future fics!)

wc: 2.8k

___

You’re not even trying to snoop- the paper flutters to the carpet all on its own, freed from the stack of Eddie’s notebooks you’d lifted to dust under. 

Expecting it to be something D&D related, you scoop it from the carpet with the intent to slip it back between the leaves of a random book- when the title catches your eye. In neat, looping black ink across the top: Christmas Apple Cake. 

There’s a pencil-drawn sketch of an apple in the top corner, faded and yellowed with time like the paper it’s on; your thumb runs over it as you scan the ingredients. 

This’ll be perfect, actually- Wayne is coming over tonight for holiday drinks with you and Eddie, a Munson family tradition that’s included you the last six or so years, and you haven’t sorted dessert yet.

The recipe is simple- a hearty, apple-filled spiced cake base, brown sugar glaze to pool on top. After hunting through the kitchen cupboards (sometimes it’s glaringly apparent you live in a former bachelor pad- the baking soda sourced from under the sink and a layer of dust), you get to work baking.

A pound of apples is peeled and diced, meticulously, to the tune of a Bing Crosby record- Eddie bemoans the cheesier aspects of holiday music, so you get your fill while he’s at work (though you’ve caught him humming along to White Christmas on more than one occasion). 

Not that either of you need the money after the generous nest-egg from various government agency pay-offs, but the part-time mechanic schedule has been good for Eddie. Wayne’s pretty much set to take over when the garage owner retires next year, and Eddie is happy to help- keeps his mind and hands busy, sorely needed after so much recovery downtime. 

And you’ve been busy, too- the apples are set to soak in cold water while you prep the batter, thinking of post-winter break classes already. You passed your first end-of-term exams with flying colors, like Eddie knew you would- never mind that they were all 101s, and that your college plans seem a little directionless- at least you’re moving. Able to do something other than waiting to get better.

Eddie’s proud of you, deeply so. That’s really all that matters for now. 

With the batter mixed, you lift handfuls of apple chunks from the water to dry on the rows of flat kitchen towels. There’s a burst of static from the living room speakers; you flick water from your hands and cross swiftly to flip the record to its B-side.

Let It Snow! rings out cheerily while you stir the apples bit by bit into the batter, Deck the Halls by the time you’re pouring the mixture into a greased baking tin. After twisting the counter timer to tick down for an hour, you clean the kitchen in good spirits.

Eddie will be home, soon- Wayne’s closing up shop, which gives his nephew plenty of time to beat him home and cook you all dinner. There’s a tender strip of beef marinating in the fridge with something Eddie referred to yesterday, ominously, as “Grinch Juice”. (The pale green of the sauce is likely due to the rosemary. You think.)

Eddie’s got the meal covered, regardless. (Plus there are always frozen pizzas to fall back on.)

The air swells with warmth from the oven, taking on a sugared, nutmeg and applesauce smell; the little window over the sink fogs over with sweet steam, making the white-snow world outside look even dreamier. Lights twinkle from the front banister, winking at the strip of sister lights across the path at the Mayfield’s door.

Plucking behind your back to loose your apron strings, you realize- for the first time in years, it feels like Christmas. Last year, you were all still learning how to be human, still nursing wounds (both external and in), stepping cautiously onto the thin ice of what it means to survive and be alive.

This year, though? You’re out in the middle of the frozen pond of life making snow angels. Ice skating over the bumps. Twirling around hand-in-hand with Eddie as you both figure it out, together.

Later, the front door creaks open then slams shut, a rhythmic thump of boots shedding snow onto the hall mat. From your vantage point on the couch- sock feet tucked underneath your body to keep warm, dog-eared Tolkien in your lap- you see Eddie before he sees you.

His back is turned as he toes off his work boots, hunched against the cold still in a hand-me-down winter coat of Wayne’s. Stray curls escape the half-up bun of his dark hair, twisting around his face, which lights up with a smile when he sees you.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie says, adopting a faux-serious, low tone as he hangs up his coat and shakes the snow from his hair. “Looks like we got an escapee from Santa’s Workshop.”

You snort, setting the book aside to roll your eyes fondly- if a red flannel shirt and jeans spells elf, you’re willing to play the part. 

Eddie approaches with menacing intent, grin so wide the corner of his lip meets the line of scarring at his cheek. 

He’s still in his work coveralls, pinstriped and oil-stained; Eddie leans his weight into his hands on either side of your head, close enough to bump noses, couch emitting a squeak of protest. 

You flick at the embroidered patch over Eddie’s heart, the one that currently reads JERRY. “Someone’s been naughty today.”

Eddie clicks his tongue, dark brows pulling together in his best approximation of someone who is very sorry. “Yeah. Guess so. You gonna tell the Big Boss on me?”

”Wouldn’t dream of it,” you sigh, tired of playing, ready to loop your arms around Eddie’s neck and kiss him silly (an action he’s more than willing to give in to).

He tastes like sharp mint, and faintly of the cigarette he probably had on break; Eddie mumbles something between kisses and you pull back just enough to hear him say, “You taste sweet.”

“Mmhm. Had to make sure the batter wasn’t poisoned,” you reply, more concerned with dotting kisses along the line of scar that disappears behind his jaw. 

Against your temple, Eddie’s lashes flutter in surprise- “You baked something?”

Pulling away fully now (with one last parting kiss to his forehead), you narrow your eyes as you shift to hold his shoulders at arm’s length- “Does me baking come as a shock to you?”

“No!” Eddie says, quickly, brows lowering from where they’d shot up just a second ago. “No, of course not. You just don’t usually… I mean, I like being the one in the kitchen.”

”I know you do.” Your hands trail to cup his elbows, briefly, before you disentangle yourself to check on the oven. The timer is just about to shriek its warning chorus- with a twist of your hand, it dings pleasantly instead. “I wanted to make something special for our Christmas dessert tonight. Hopefully it’s not actually poisoned.” 

Based on the delicious smell that wafts from the oven, you’ve got nothing to fear- the tines of your testing fork come out from the middle of the cake clean, a pair of mitts snagged to pull it out and set on the stove.

Clouds of steam rise from the fresh pastry, spiced and golden under the overhead lights- it smells like Christmas in a pan. Eddie approaches to watch over your shoulder, his hand steady on your low back as you explain the glaze that needs to be made next- he takes a lungful of fragrant air, and then his hand stills.

Eddie isn’t in the habit of interrupting you, so it’s strange when he does, voice sounding strained as he stumbles through the start of a few different sentences. “How did you- this is- that’s apple cake. My mom’s apple cake. What…”

It must be the smell, transporting him back, and for a moment, your heart sinks. Eddie hasn’t had a flashback in so long; the last one was months ago over the summer when a car backfired and sent his mind spiraling for hours after. 

You turn in his arms, speaking carefully, ready to soothe- “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, honestly, the recipe just fell out when I was moving your things, and I-”

Eddie’s eyes are brimming with tears when he interrupts you again- this time, to kiss you; there’s a slip of his tear that tracks down your own cheek as you kiss him back. 

He’s holding you, now, mirroring you from earlier, thumbs squeezing at the inside of your elbows, forehead resting in a slow roll against yours as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t know… I didn’t think any recipes of hers survived the move from Tennessee.”

“It was in one of your old journals,” you murmur, reaching to wipe the wet track of tears from his face even as he moves to do the same for you. “Did your mom used to make this for you?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, wetly, kisses the palm of your hand where it rests against his face. “Every Christmas until I was five or so. Got the recipe from her mom, some Appalachian tradition. Wayne would know better than me.”

Eddie��s looking at the cake again, a familiar hazed-over stare that makes your heart hurt in sympathy, memories flooding back in at an overwhelming degree. You’re quiet for a few moments, pressing your face into the side of Eddie’s coveralls, letting him find his footing before asking, quietly- “Wanna help me make the topping?”

In another life, you and Eddie would run a mean kitchen together- years of learning the distinct ways in which the other moves comes in handy when you need to share cooking duties. 

He ducks under your arm effortlessly to grab vanilla while you whisk the sugars and butter, adds splashes and dashes of things to your bowl periodically until the mulled glaze is formed. 

The top of his (Jerry’s) coveralls were shoved down earlier, your help enlisted to tie the long sleeves around his waist in a makeshift apron; good thing your boy runs hot- means he’s comfortable enough to cook in a white cutoff undershirt that’s thin as a napkin. Underneath, Eddie’s all alabaster, lean muscle, black ink tattoos dancing with the corded ripples of scar tissue as he flits around the kitchen.

Between getting the steak ready to sear, and tasking you with prepping the hill of potatoes, Eddie talks about his mother- holidays of years past floating to the forefront on a wave of recollected smell. 

Along with Tennessee apple cake, Elizabeth Munson would wrap chestnuts in tin foil to roast low and slow in the embers of a Christmas fire. One year, she penny-pinched enough to buy part of the neighbor’s turkey for her and then-five-year-old Eddie.

You soak up all these memories, asking questions periodically, immersed in Eddie’s storytelling. It’s rare to hear Elizabeth’s name, and you wonder, suddenly, if that could be changed.

“You know, I really like hearing about her,” you tell Eddie gently, after a gleeful retelling of the time she crashed his sled into the big stump of maple at the edge of their woods. You give the chopped potatoes on your cutting board a push, and they tumble into Eddie’s proffered bowl. “If there’s something I can do, to help… I dunno, make it easier to bring her up- you’d let me know. Right?” 

Eddie considers this as he gathers jars from the narrow spice cupboard, lining them up in a neat row. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. And it’s not… you’re easy to talk to. It’s just hard, sometimes, to learn how to remember her.”

You nod, thoughtful, watching him layer spices and olive oil into the bowl; he uses a wooden spoon to make sure all the potato sides are coated before saying, “And sometimes, it feels downright braggy. I got six whole years with her- most all of ‘em good ones- it’s not something I take for granted. And your mother-”

Eddie cuts himself off, abruptly, knuckles glistening with oil as they tighten into fists. Something inside you wilts, stretches desperately for its light source; you budge up under Eddie’s arm, place a hand to the middle of his chest where his breaths meet you with a shuddery kickstart.

“I know. But you were a kid too, Eddie. Six is just a kid.”

He does his best to hug you back with one arm as your nose seeks the notch behind his ear, a perfect fit, enveloping your senses as you breathe in the spot that smells most like him. “You can share however much or however little you want, of her, with me. Just ‘cuz my parents sucked doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about your one good one. Let me live vicariously, okay?”

You give Eddie a teasing little shake, a flash of teeth against his neck that has him chuckling, shaking off the anger before either of you can be derailed. The potatoes are moved to a baking sheet while Eddie preps the meat, and you send a river of brown sugar glaze over top the cake so it has time to cool.

If Wayne notes the missing piece from the corner of the dessert, later, he doesn’t mention it- the whiskey he’d brought over pairs perfectly with the rich, spiced cake. 

One bite in and Wayne’s head turns, slow, to his nephew sat beside him. Without looking up from his spoonful of melting ice cream, Eddie nods. “Yup. Mom’s cake. Don’t look at me, though.”

Wayne blinks down at the bowl in front of him, then to you, like someone’s woken him from the middle of a dream. “Tastes just like how she used to make it.”

Were it possible to bottle and live off someone’s praise, you’d like to find a way; instead, you tuck the compliment away for a rainy day and give him a warm smile. “I’m glad. I’ll make it next year, too, if you want.”

After dinner (totally delicious despite Eddie’s best attempt to scare you both off with increasingly weird holiday-themed adjectives), Eddie pulls out his acoustic guitar to try his new capo, a gift from Uncle Wayne that’s immediately put to good use.

This autumn, on the same week you went to college for the first time, Eddie taught himself how to play guitar again. A year on from the attacks, his left hand was still stiff, a deep scar across the bridge of his abductor that made more dexterous movement near-impossible.

But your boy, smart and strong and determined, found a way. Eddie surprised you over Thanksgiving break with a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Hypnotized, though with multiple false starts since both of you cried most of the way through it.

Less tears, this time around, but no less emotional- you steal glances under the pretense of wiping down the table as Eddie sits wide on the couch, black guitar propped on his knees while he adjusts the capo. 

In a nearby armchair, Wayne takes a sip from his whiskey glass- at the first few notes of Edelweiss, his eyes slip closed, lost in memory.

“This was one of her favorites,” Eddie says to you, grinning while his fingers pluck the pattern smoothly.

You lean a hip against the table, wiping abandoned, taking in the gentle movement of Eddie’s hair, his arms, while he plays. He gets so lost in the music, sometimes- a soft look that usually only shows when he’s sleeping peacefully. 

You wonder if Elizabeth looked the same, all those years ago- bent over her special Christmas cake, sneaking tastes on the back of a spoon to the set of dimpled hands that reached for her apron. 

In your back pocket, the recipe card in her handwriting is tucked safely away. While Eddie plays, your fingers brush the outline of the pencil-etched apple, sending a prayer or a wish of some sort to the snow angel in your head.

He’s doing great. He’s so loved and cared for, with me. I hope you know I’m taking care of him. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the cake. 

___

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

[itsprashimusic]

Maybe Leave The Cooking To Me

Summary - You love to cook, and Lando loves to help, but this time it goes sideways.

Pairings - Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Warnings - minor injury, reader has good relationship with parents, reader is same age as Lando, fluffy.

W/C - 1.4k

A/N - my first fic for f1 lets gooo Happy reading<3

Navigation

 It was the end of a triple header meaning that now you had a break you were craving. The Monday meetings were done with, you and Lando were on the flight back to your Monaco apartment. The exhaustion caught up with you and the both of you were out within seconds of your heads hitting your pillows. 

It was now a Tuesday night. There was some music playing in the living room, Lando was somewhere in the house, and you were in the kitchen. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef, but you loved to cook and learn new recipes. Travelling the world with Lando made it so that you would not get to cook very often, so when you did get to cook you would take the chance.

You sat on the counter contemplating what to cook. Before you shifted to Monaco your mom had written out a recipe book for you with all different kinds of recipes which she had found and curated to your and your family's taste and liking. So you sat on the counter, reading through the fat book.

"Babe, what do you wanna eat?" you yelled to Lando, your eyes still focused on the book. You didn't get a reply, but 5 seconds later he walked into the kitchen. "I'm not really sure," he said while walking up to you. He walked in between your legs and tilted the book in your hands so that he could read it.

"Oo, how about spaghetti? You always say how you wanted to make it." He said and pointed to it. "By that I meant making it from scratch. It is too late to do that." you reply and turn the page.

"Then just boil the spaghetti we have and make the sauce." The excitement in your eyes when you heard him say that made him chuckle. You got off the counter and began rummaging around the kitchen looking for all the ingredients. "Red sauce?" "Red sauce" he confirms. You get out the tomatoes, chillies, garlic, herbs and spices while Lando takes out the spaghetti.

You give him the simple task of watching the pasta boil and reminding you when it was 20 minutes. He dutifully did his task and even drained the water and left the spaghetti in the colander. It was getting late and the two of you were growing hungrier, but knew that the food would be worth the wait.

While waiting for the boiled tomatoes to cool you were cutting some onions and garlic. "Can you get the grinder out?" you asked Lando. He was a bit deep in thought, so only hummed before retrieving the asked for item. "What are you thinking about?" "I could've overtaken Russel at turn 14." he said.

"Baby, it's ok," you abandoned the half cut onions and wiped your hands. You walked over to Lando and gently made him look at you, "Could you have done something then? Yes. Can you do anything about it now? No. It's no use dwelling on something that can't be changed. The best you can make of it, is to be aware of it and try and avoid repeating it in the future. Hmm?" you hummed at the end with a nod. Lando looked at you and nodded along.

To get his mind off of the last race you got him to make good use of his muscles and crush some dried chillies. The cooking went on. You peeled the tomatoes, put them in the grinder and set up the wok on the stove. Lando was slicing some pieces of soft chicken which he wanted you to add in the sauce.

The sauce was half ready when you turned the gas off and went to the sink to wash your hands. "Is it done?" he asked you. 'No' you told him and dried your hands, "It still has some chunks which didn't get ground." This is where your casual Tuesday night took a turn.

Lando, being the muppet he is who can't cook, poured the chunky liquid into the grinder bowl, covered it and put it on the machine. You then faced him and saw what he did. But you did not have enough time to tell him to not do what he was about to do.

He turned the knob and within less than a second the hot tomato sauce spewed out of the bowl and all over you, Lando and your cosy kitchen.

You would expect that a formula 1 driver's quick reflexes would not just be limited to when they are driving. But if you saw the scene inside Lando and his girlfriend's kitchen on a Tuesday night after a triple header, you would be greeted with quite the opposite. The once clean kitchen was now covered in red food. You and Lando were covered in near-boiling hot pasta sauce.

When the sauce spewed out, Lando's first reaction was to let out a slightly high-pitched scream and you quickly turned the loud nightmare-like-sounding machine off. Neither of you said anything, you just looked around the kitchen, taking in the mess, processing what happened, and slowly registering the pain you felt where the sauce lay on your bare skin.

Thankfully most of the spilt sauce got on your t-shirts and not on either of your faces, but some did reach your arms. Lando was the first to say something "Ow, that hurts, that's-that's starting to burn, ouch." Without wasting much time, you grabbed his arm and took him to the bathroom. You turned the shower on, "keep your arm under the water. Do. Not. Move."

You went to the sink and shed your tomato-covered top and left it there. You got Lando to do the same and then joined him by putting your own, now slightly burnt, arms under the spray of cold water. "Baby, why did you start the grinder with a hot liquid inside of it?" you asked him, your voice soft and full of concern, "I'm not mad, just wanna know why."

"You said you had to grind it." His voice sounded broken, you wanted to hug him tight and never let go. "Lan, you have to wait till it has cooled down. The steam inside created pressure which caused the lid to pop open and the sauce to scatter everywhere." He just gave a quiet 'oh' in response.

"How much of your arm got burnt?" you asked and he showed you the parts which hurt. You left the bathroom and came back with two handkerchiefs and ice packs. With the help of rubber bands you secured the ice packs to his forearms. "Where are you going?" he asked when the two of you changed your clothes.

"To clean the kitchen and salvage whatever is left of the sauce."

"Let me help, please."

How could you say no to that face he was making? After some back and forth he got you to also attach an ice pack to your forearm. you grumbled but nevertheless allowed him to take care of you.

You both clean in silence. He cleaned the counter, cupboards and the grinder while you cleaned up the floor where most of the sauce got. 10 minutes later the now salvaged sauce was on the gas with the chicken in and almost ready to eat.

Lando got out two plates and served you both some spaghetti. Your stomach rumbled, which made him giggle. The two of you quickly began laughing. Some people process and handle things by crying, some yell, some throw things around the house and some just sit in silence and wallow and wither away. But you had a different way of coping with emotions and stress. By laughing. That was one thing you and your boyfriend had in common. You both would laugh to process things.

It was kind of the reason the two of you got together in the first place.

Soon the sauce was ready and was severed. You both took your plates and forks and sat on the couch, something ready to play on the TV. The ice packs had come off by then, but Lando insisted on wrapping the cold napkin around the red part of your hand which was not covered in ice earlier.

He finished wrapping your arm and you leaned forward to kiss his nose. Before you could reach though, his lips caught yours in a short but sweet kiss. You both ate your spaghetti and watched what was playing on the TV, occasionally making comments about it here and there.

"Babe"

"Yea?"

"Next time, maybe leave cooking to me?"

"I’m with you a 100 percent on that one" 

A/N - this fic came to be because I read a lando fic where reader was eating chicken pasta and decided to cook spaghetti for the first time and ended up burning myself(dw i'm fine, the burn was very minor)

Hope you enjoyed reading<3

[opiopal]

mc actually helping solomon improve his cooking .... Tooth rotting fluff

dude the first thing I thought of was matching aprons,

like maybe they don’t even say anything cute on them, or maybe they do, but it’s absolutely a baking pun,

but I also immediately thought of mc having to let him down gently like…. Pookie your cooking has almost killed all of us at some point… but that’s ok because i know how to Cooke more then just mac’n cheese! I can imagine mc starting him off with very basic stuff, like things you’d make in a highschool culinary class. They’d start him off with a simple stir fry, just with noodles, chicken, and some veggies- and after multiple attempts he gets something that doesn’t resemble the souls of the damned! Which they are both equally excited about!! Mc boasts about him to the others and shows off pictures that they took of his edible creation, the others may not be as impressed but they do give a simple compliment or two(strictly just bc mc is the one so happy abt it- also half the time it’s praise given to mc for being so willing to take on such a challenge)

as time goes on they could even start having little cooking dates, which is just them both working in the kitchen together, which normally consists of Solomon asking what would be a good ingredient to add into the stew/fish/chicken/potatoes, and mc typically steering him away from things that would make the food inedible- but over time they end up with better and better meals for dinner! I could also see mc going up to the human realm with Solomon once he gains enough experience to participate in a potluck! And he’s just so excited for weeks before the trip, what should he make? He heard that chili is popular- but if it’s popular then other people would be doing it too! Maybe something sweet? He couldn’t do a cake or cupcakes since making enough to feed everyone, since it would be too much of a hassle to carry with them. Maybe he could make some sort of stew or soup- or he could try making ravioli noodles from hand! Oh but that would also take a very long time, though of course mc would help him. eventually mc helps him to make up his mind, and it’s such a blast. Even though the food they end up bringing is a bit simple, it’s very much so enjoyed by the other people there! And honestly the smile on his face is just so precious,

also mc totally has a chart hung up on the wall for him, which is basically little cooking tips, like, you made something a little too sweet? Add a small amount of vinegar or lemon juice slowly to combat it. Do not mix too much baking powder with a cake batter unless you also want to be feeding the oven. Is the stew a little bit thin? Let it simmer a bit longer- is your sauce a bit thin as well? Try a bit of flower or heavy whipping cream, in small amounts. Ect. ect. and mc absolutely makes him call them whenever he has questions, it doesn’t matter the time of day, mc would rather step out of a student council meeting for 5 minutes then come home to the kitchen being completely destroyed…

[redrose10]

Just something fluffy I’ve been thinking about…

“Oh wow, those are absolutely beautiful!”, you exclaimed setting the grocery bags down on the counter. Walking over to get a better look at the large bouquet of tulips you couldn’t help but smile.

“You made a great choice. Tulips are my favorite flower too.”

Your best friend Yoongi walked over, “Yeah the florist did a great job.”

“So I got all the ingredients for the dinner. Luckily it’s pretty simple to make so we should be done in plenty of time for your date tonight.”, you said as you began pulling out the items.

When your best friend told you that he was planning on asking out this girl he really liked and he really wanted you to help him put together the perfect date you just couldn’t say no. Even if hearing that he was going to ask someone out that wasn’t you did cause your heart to hurt a little.

Yoongi had told you that this mystery girl loved tulips and since your favorite flower also happened to be tulips he had asked you to pick out a bouquet. Which you were happy to do.

Then he asked you to help him cook her favorite dinner for the occasion. You thought it was a little odd that his date also happened to love chicken alfredo and double fudge brownies just like you because what are the odds? You were just glad that it was a dish you were well versed in making so you knew she was going to love it.

The brownies were in the oven and the sauce was coming together so while you had a few minutes you encouraged Yoongi to go get dressed.

As he stood in front of you holding up two shirt options so you can help him pick which one looks best with his black dress pants,

“No I think the black shirt looks better. I’ve always told you that you look great in all black.”, you’d replied not noticing the blush creep up his cheeks.

“Put on some of that cologne you have. You know that really expensive Versace one. It smells so good.”, you shouted as he ran back to his room to finish getting ready.

You were finishing up the table setting when Yoongi finally returned. After setting the last wine glass down you looked up loosing your breath for a moment. Your crush on Yoongi has grown exponentially the last year. You never meant for it to be that way, but some things just happen. Seeing him look this handsome, putting this much effort into a date for another woman pained you, but also made you fall a little more in love with him. But you were determined to pushed that all aside just so he could be happy.

“How do I look?”, he asked spinning to give you a 360 view.

He had been working out more recently and it definitely showed by the way the fabric clung to his torso and biceps. The dress pants were tailored perfectly showing off his slim legs. He’d gotten away from wearing earrings lately but you noticed the two hoops you’d given him for Christmas two years ago. And he did put on a little of that cologne you loved. He looked like the man of your dreams.

“Like a chiseled statue of a Greek God carved by Michelangelo himself.”, you quipped.

“Wow Y/N you’re so weird.”, he snorted.

“But seriously, do you think it’s too much? I want her to like it.”

You put on your best fake smile, “You look great Yoongi. She’s going to think you look very handsome.”

The pasta finished boiling so you added it to the sauce and topped it with a little more cheese. The brownies were cooling on the rack and you reminded Yoongi about the vanilla ice cream in the freezer that you thought would be a nice touch.

“What time is she supposed to get here?”, you asked.

“Umm 7:00.”

You glanced at the clock and noticed it was flashing 6:58.

“Yoongi why didn’t you say something?! She’s gonna be here any minute and I don’t think she’s going to be happy to see me here.”, you said frantically running around trying to grab your things.

As you ran towards the door Yoongi followed close behind.

“Remember not to let the brownies cool in the pan too much or they might sink. And remember the ice cream.”

“Y/N”, he whispered.

“Oh and slice the chicken before adding it to the pasta. It looks nicer and will be easier to eat.”

“Y/N…”

“And show her the flowers when she first gets here. It’ll be a nice surprise. Remember to tell her she looks pretty too.”

“Y/N…”

“And most of all text me afterwards and let me know how it goes.”, you’d said finally getting your shoe on that you had been struggling with.

“Y/N wait!”, Yoongi finally shouted.

Turning around you looked surprised, “What? Yoongi I have to go before she gets here.”

He chuckled to himself, “Y/N, you can’t seriously be this oblivious?”

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused.

He walked over standing just a few inches away from you, “Y/N I had you get tulips that YOU picked out. They’re YOUR favorite flower. I had you help me cook YOUR favorite meal. I bought YOUR favorite bottle of wine. I had you help me pick out an outfit that YOU would like. I wore the cologne YOU like. I mean I thought I was being obvious but I guess not.”

Looking around the room it did kind of make sense. They were all things that were your favorites, but you were so hung up on the fact that you never thought Yoongi would ever like you that way so you really thought he had a date with someone else.”

You chuckled, “I mean I did notice some similarities, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually like me like that so I thought it was all one big coincidence.”

Yoongi took your hands into his. His thumb lightly running over a small burn you got from the brownie pan, “Y/N, I like you a lot. I have for a really long time. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I guess I was just hoping you’d get the hint. I’d really like to ask you to be an official couple.”

“You’re so adorable.”, you chuckled as you watched him nervously stare at the floor.

“Yes, of course. I’d love that.”, you smiled reaching over and placing a kiss on his lips.

As Yoongi served you the dinner you suddenly had a realization, “So you had me plan our first date and also go to the grocery store and help cook and I had to pick out my own flowers?”

Yoongi nervously scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah um both my smartest and dumbest decision. But at least I know you’ll like everything.”

“Wow you’re definitely doing all of the dishes.”, you laughed.

He leaned over giving you another kiss, “Already planned on it babe.”

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Right haven't done one of those is so long buuuut....

What would be the favorite food of these AOT characters?

Armin: he strikes me as a fish guy, someone who enjoys carp dinner perhaps? Or maybe crab cakes? Something light, maybe even caught fresh. Well, it has to be, because Annie probably hates the smell of fish. He needs to be very careful with how he cooks it!

Annie: do I have to say this?? SWEET PASTRIES! Of any kind!! But she'a fond of jam donuts with powder sugar on top. She can eat an endless amount! No, for real, the bakeries can't keep up with her anymore.

Mikasa: Soup! She loves how warm and familiar it feels to her. It's like eating a hug, and she can always try new combinations of ingredients for it. She also likes to feed everyone who visits, even if they are hungry or not. You go to Mikasa's place? You eat soup!

Eren: he's a bit of a strange one, but there's just something about nuggets and fries that just works. Every day. Every time. Beige food is Eren food.

Jean: he's a fancy guy, so obviously... stake! Delicious juicy stake, and we can't forget about the wine! Only the finest! Until he spills it over himself... every time.

Reiner: the first thing that came to mind was mashed potatoes with meatballs and sweet tomato sauce. A very barebone recipe that just hits the right spot for him! Something that makes him feel at home. I bet he cries every time he has it too.

Connie: spicy food!! Of any kind! Maybe Indian, maybe Mexican? Doesn't matter! The only important thing is for his tongue to be ON FIRE!

Sasha: anything. She's a living, breathing food trashcan! But if she had to pick, perhaps any kind of game meat, wild animals that she hunted herself.

Pieck: She's all about pasta, any form, any shape. However, her favorite seems to be anything coated in copious amounts of Pesto!

Gabi: she's that kid that just LOVES sour candies. The ones that are so sour they make your eyes water. She likes pranking Reiner with them and watching him suffer.

Falco: he doesn't usually admit it, but he loves a good strawberry shortcake. Sometimes, when Annie buys some for herself, she'd also get Falco a slice. It's their little secret.

Zeke: this man will absolutely obliterate a burger. The taller, the better. Sides? Hell yes, add some fries and some corn on the cob and this man is SOLD. What's that? Unlimited refils on the drinks? You bet this man will do his best to make the most of his money!! People often have to physically pull him away from the drinks machines.

Yelena: Sushi, particularly sashimi. Simple, elegant food. She will kill someone for it if she needs to. So please, never take sashimi away from her. Ever.

Onyankopon: my dude can COOK, he's absolutely amazing at it, there isn't a single person who hasn't tried his cooking. He struggles to pick favorites, though he does really enjoy a good goat curry with rice, veggies and a delicious spicy sauce on top.

Levi: good old fashioned tea cakes. Obviously! Although not often, he does really enjoy snacking on them, especially when he enjoys a warm cup of tea on rainy days.

Hange: pizza!! So many different kinds it's almost impossible for her to pick!! Veggie?? Meat feast?? Italian?? Or why not ALL OF THEM AT ONCE!

[darkchaogarden-blog]

What Sonic and friends bring to the barbecue:

Sonic: Hot dogs, naturally, but with chili and condiments in separate containers, because he’s finally, begrudgingly, accepted that not everyone wants chili dogs all the time like he does.

Tails: A big bowl of salad, made up of the various salads he’s tried, and failed, to get Sonic to eat with his chili dogs whenever it’s lunch time.

Knuckles: Basket of various fruits and edible plants picked across Angel Island that he swears on his ancestors are better than any of the processed junk Sonic eats. Provided that the fruit and veggies he brought aren’t the poisonous ones that are near indistinguishable from the non poisonous ones. He’s pretty sure he picked the non poisonous ones. Almost certainly.

Amy: Plate of tofu dogs, mainly for Sonic, Tails, and Cream (as they are her boyfriend, little brother, and little sister, respectively,) at the expense of everyone else. Anyone else who are not those three so much has go near the dogs gets the hammer. When no one is looking she’ll sneak a chili dog or five for herself.

Cream: Tub of homemade ice cream that she made all by herself and is super proud of that Vanilla knows for a fact will be too sweet for everyone else and keeps a packet of Tums for anyone brave enough to try it.

Big: A massive fish that he quite literally just caught that day for the barbecue that he intends to prepare and cook on the spot. By the time it will be gone everyone else is packing up to go. It will be the best fish anyone had ever tasted, though.

Vanilla: Plain, simple sliders and cold cuts, just so that everyone not name Sonic will have something normal to eat.

Vector: His best, and only, tuxedo and monocle, convinced he can turn the barbecue into a date between himself and Vanilla. (It’s also a distraction for Espio and Charmy to sneak off with the food so that they will have something in the fridge for the next month or two, but mostly it’s a chance at a date with Vanilla.)

Espio: His sword and armor to fend off Amy for when while Charmy makes off with the food, especially her tofu dogs (which he wants most of all the food, even though Vector told him to ignore it. Espio will not be denied.)

Charmy: The tupperware containers, supposedly, to steal the food with, but left them at home, and immediately forgets about helping Vector and Espio when he sees Cream brought her homemade ice cream.

Shadow: What started as a simple beef stew then quickly turned into an amalgamation of ingredients because he felt it wasn’t “ultimate” enough. Now a vat of what can only be described as “substance.” Tails takes it home for further study.

Rouge: An ice sculpture she…burrowed from a police ball she attended. She doesn’t remember when she stole it nor how she kept it cold for so long.

Omega: Is the barbecue grill.

Topaz: Is the grill master.

Blaze: Her whole kitchen staff to make a feast worthy of a king. They have a grill off against Topaz and Vanilla for the right to cook the food and shockingly lose. They then spend the rest of the day following Vanilla’s instructions on how to make boxes lunches.

Silver: His telekinesis powers to carry all of the kitchen equipment. At first annoyed when the kitchen staff lose and weren’t going to use the kitchen he worked hard to get between dimensions but settles down once he tries Cream’s ice cream (and then immediately passes out from the sugar rush.)

Marine: Was the one to convince Blaze to leave the castle for a chance to relax.

Babylon Rogues: Weren’t invited but show up anyway to show off their homemade dish, said to have been passed down from generation to generation. However, beforehand, Jet and Wave got into an argument about how to make it and ended up making two versions of the same dish. Jet’s version deviates from the recipe the most, with too many spices and sauces added on, while Wave’s dish is exact but is bland and flavorless because Jet used up most of the seasoning. They make up by feeding their food to Storm and just stealing all the rest at the barbecue.

[wonderlandwalker]

One Day at a Time | Finnick Odair x Reader

Previous Part / THG Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: a short collection of sweet moments shared between you and Finnick as you recover, reminding the both of you of the love you share

(part 4 of the remember series but could also be read on its own I think, you can find the other parts in my masterlist)

Content Warnings / Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of punching, I really think that's it.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry it took so long my only excuse is that I am an absolute mess of a human being which is a terrible one but oh well. This will be the final part of the series, hope the fluff makes up for all the heartbreak I've put you through <3

It's been a week now, one week of blissful moments spend with Finnick while recovering from the attack within district 13. After all that had happened you were in need of some peace, and the universe granted it.

On the first day you were still in the hospital wing, an IV dripping steady fluids into your system. You woke up to Finnick sitting next to you, one of his hands holding onto yours while the other was holding up a book. It was one of your favourites, and you had been pestering him about reading it so you could talk about it with him, but he had always brushed you off, saying he'd get around to it eventually. It seems eventually finally came around. You coaxed him into getting in the bed with you, he was hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt you, but he wasn't above your charms either, your eyes pleading with him in a way he couldn't resist. He had settled in behind you, letting you lean against him, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gave you. You had asked him to read to you, and even though you already knew it by heart, his sweet voice added a whole new element to the story so beloved.

The second day was spent trying to convince the nurse to let you leave the hospital room, if only for a few hours, she didn't initially want to agree, but Finnick simply wouldn't drop the subject. So you walked together towards the dinner hall, feeling like little children sneaking out past the curfew.

Supper had already finished, but Finnick was friends with one of the cooks who let him into the kitchens. He told you to sit down on the table in the middle of the room and gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving over to the fridge. It was simple, it wasn't much, but it was perfect. He would let you taste the dish in-between steps, always forgetting one ingredient or another, but you didn't mind reminding him. At some point you could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, but maybe he was just too caught up in having you there with him again. You offered to help with meting the butter, dicing the vegetables, stirring the sauce, but each and every time he would insist you stayed right where you were, accentuated with a quick kiss, his hands on your face smearing flour all over your jaw, not that you minded. He claimed he was the better cook anyway, that you'd only hold him back, now that one you both knew was a lie, but it was a precious one, one that didn't need to be disturbed.

Day three consisted of a slow day back in your room, having been cleared by the doctor and finally being in your own space again. You and Finnick hadn't shared a room in a while now with everything that had gone down, but you had immediately decided to spend your nights together again, not wanting to spend more time apart than necessary. You hadn't fully recovered yet, still needing your rest, but Finnick had set his mind on moving your things back into his room today.

So there you were, sitting crossed legged on his bed absentmindedly sipping on some coffee he had brought you as you watched him bustle about. He was only gone a few minutes at a time, but you never failed to produce a smile when you saw him approaching again, hands full with some of your books, the collection of flowers he had given you over the years that you had dried and pressed in-between the pages were sticking out slightly, but he handled them with care. Even while you weren't together you couldn't find it ins yourself to get rid of them, and you're glad of it now. He goes back and forth for a while, collecting your pillow, your skin care products, your small radio that barely managed to get a reception down here, but you couldn't bare to part with. Each time he'd ask you where you wanted him to put it down, carefully creating a space that consisted of the both of you.

On day four you had finally woken up in his arms again, wondering how you could have ever forgotten this feeling. When he noticed you were awake he had moved to place a delicate kiss on your lips, basking in the simplicity of the fact that he could. He had told you he had a surprise for you today, and you couldn't help how giddy you already got from the mere thought of what it could be. But it was oh so much better than you could have imagined, because today Finnick took you to the surface. How he managed to get you past all the checkpoints was beyond you, and when you asked he had simply said he had friends in all the right places.

It was a bit of a walk to the spot he wanted to take you, but you revelled in the sunlight against your face, needing to squint your eyes to see properly with how bright the sun was but too blissed to care. The high grass rustled against your bare legs as you continued to walk, and the tickling sensation brought back so many fond memories. When you finally made it to the clearing it was a sight from a dream. The tree next to the lake provided a shadow you could both comfortably lay in as the smell of the fresh water blessed your senses once more. The wildflowers adorning the space around you were once you could recall from back home, with a few others you couldn't identify. Finnick had picked a few, placing them behind your ear as he talked about what the flower meant. A myosotis, he had called it, representing true love and dedication. He told you about the myth behind the forget-me-nots, how they had been afraid of being forgotten by the gods, and you had vowed in return to never spend a day without thinking of him again.

During the fifth day you didn't do much of anything special, but you supposed that depends on your definition of the word. Finnick had made dandelion tea from flowers he had collected yesterday, the familiar taste bringing back a sense of nostalgia for a time that you wouldn't be able to return to. You had once told him your mother used to make it when you were sick, and ever since he would go collect them by the cliffs for you. You had insisted it was too much work that he didn't need to worry himself with, he had countered that he enjoyed the view where they grew anyway, and really, he was going for himself as much as for you. Maybe he had simply been trying to get you to stop fussing over the subject, maybe it had really been true.

You spend the day talking to your friends, reminiscing in regained memories and filling in gaps that you couldn't on your own. As you sat next to Johanna she talked on about the days Finnick spent longing after you, claiming he was alright wirh being just friends, but she was convinced that if any of her friends looked at her the way he looked at you she would have suckerpunched them.

On the sixth day you had begged Finnick train with you, saying how you wanted to get your strength back, how you missed the exercise and the content feeling of aching muscles. He had been reluctant, of course he had been, but once you had managed to drag him onto the training mat he revelled in it. He couldn't deny he had missed sparring with you, the action so effortless with you. He had made fun of how you threw your punches, saying you had to extent your arms further to complete the motion, but he was the one not protection his core properly while fixating on you. It had been good to feel your body in motion again, he was still stronger than you, knocking the breath out of your lungs once be stopped holding back, but you were still faster, getting the drop on him in the split seconds he was distracted. The manner in which your muscle memory still held up, the way in which you still used the same techniques without meaning to, it was good to know there are some things people can't take from you.

The seventh day you picked your routine back up. Waking up to an empty bed but not lonely, his side was still warm as you rolled over. Once you opened your eyes you saw the cup of coffee and the note on the bedside table. Finnick knew you never slept for long after he left, somehow he still knew. He had been given some time off during your recovery, but district 13 didn't stand still and they had needed his help. You weren't expected back yet, but the sense of purpose was one that you were always glad to have. You drank the coffee he left you as you got dressed, smiling as he had made it exactly to your liking, even if he used to complain you couldn't even call it coffee anymore with that much sugar in it. And so you went back to work, moving to scribble a quick message on the back of the note if he came back looking for you, not that he needed it, somehow he would always know where you were.

In the past week you had learned that a love as great as the one you shared with Finnick could never be forgotten, not really, because no matter how many memories faded, there would always come new ones. And soon, even though you didn't know it yet, Finnick would give you his mother's ring once more, and this time you would remember everything that led you here, and you would remember saying yes.

[thebearer]

could you write smth with a reader who has safe foods, and carmey trying to get them to branch out? my mom is being a dick to me about only eating pasta and pb&j's.

He teases you about it at first. Small things about how you always order the same thing. Carmen's kidding, of course, until he realizes that you really do order the same things. He asks, just once, and you shrug. "It's just what I like." You mutter, and he doesn't ask you again.

From then, Carmen is on a silent solo mission to expand your palette. He doesn't want to force it, knows better than that. Instead, he'll let you try it, small things. He starts making simple dishes, something about the pasta you always order with just enough similarities to still be safe but something a little different to see if you like it. If you do, he'll try something else with that same ingredient, see if it still works. It's fun for him in a way, a challenge.

"What's this?" You hum, looking at the food on his fork.

"Lasagna but it's vegetarian. Still really fucking good, just less meat, ya know? Better for you. Thinkin' about adding it to the menu on Italian nights, ya know?" Carmen soothes, rambled words that have you swooning. "Try it f'me."

You hesitate for a moment, and his eyes soften. "C'mon, you know you won't hurt my feelings if you don't like it." He grins.

You accept the bite, hesitantly, chewing it in your mouth. It's different... the texture is close to pasta but not the same. You can tell he blended the vegetables finely in the sauce for you, and you're grateful for that.

"'s good." You swallow, looking up at Carmen carefully.

His eyes light up. "Yeah? You like it?" He asks.

You nod. "I like it a lot. Tastes like regular lasagna." You grin. "Well, without the meat but I think that's better?"

Carmen beams, smugly grinning when he sets the fork in the sink. "Great. I'll be adding that one to the menu." He hums, taking note that this dish had eggplant in it too.

[lengthofropes]

okay, Oookay, a WIP! (sorry prob a lot of typos, my issue) inspired by my What if Tommy never left 118 series, basically (can't help it)

Despite Bobby’s lasagna being extra delicious today (new secret ingredient?), Tommy feels like he’s chewing on grimy sole. He knew this day would come sooner or later. It’s been over a week since Sal got transferred, and of course they need a new member for their team. But.  But. What? Sal has been a pain in the ass lately (not that he’s ever been anything less, but...), and his constant arrogance and disobedience made it only a matter of Bobby’s patience to be finally kicked out of 118. And to be completely and utterly honest, Tommy got much tired with having to deal with his best friend’s shit to the point it has become harder to even call him a friend.  But. He was his first friend here, in some way, his mentor. And even if they both were under constant pressure of keeping the mark of Gerrard’s ‘best boys’, they always had each other’s back. Always.  It’s just- Strange, not to see him here, sitting across the table, making his obscene jokes with a snarky grin face. And even if Tommy knows now, it’s better to let go of everything that fuels your worst traits, it feels like it’s the Sal’s empty chair that is somewhat a stupid joke itself. Like, if Tommy could blink – and everything would get back to how it used to be, simple and familiar. Nevertheless. No matter the ball of unaddressed feels in his chest, Tommy made a promise to himself to take it as it comes and hold on to this new and better version on himself and try his best to make their new probie’s life here if not carefree, but at least tolerable. He learned his lesson good with Howie and Hen, thanks! He chews and swallows.  He’s gonna be fine, Jesus! He has other friends here too, good friends. And, finally, a captain who knows how to be one. Job is good, his mom is fine, and that girl he met near the gym yesterday agreed to go out with him, and he has a good feeling about this, like it can actually work out this time. Life is good! No need to feel all anxious and insecured again, he’s in a good place, he’s ready for anything.   “Uh, hi. I'm Evan Buckley, new recruit.”

Tommy must’ve gotten too much into his own head with eyes on his plate, he didn’t even notice that someone came near the table. He rises his eyes.  “I was told to report to Captain Nash.” That “someone” looks the right amount shy, but at the same time like he’s trying to make the nicest first impression ever with that ear to ear smile and awkward pull on a shoulder strap of his duffle bag. “You know a Captain Nash? You?” Bobby pulls out a joke, and everyone play along, efficiently hiding their smiles. Kid looks more and more confused, before Bobby takes a pity on him and invites him to the table with one of his kindest smiles.  “Take a seat, Evan.” Evan’s smile grows wider with that. “Uh, Buck. Everyone just calls me Buck.” “Well, welcome to the 118, Buck.” Well, could’ve been worse, Tommy thinks, as kid sits himself down into Sal’s chair, glancing exited at their fabulous lunch. They could’ve easily been tossed with some asshole, but this one looks civilized. At first sight, at least. Gotta see how he will handle the job, though, but as for now, Tommy makes another mental note to himself to treat this “Buck” kid no worse than Bobby.  “Uh, that’s a sauce?” Buck asks particularly no one, just hangs the question in the air, pointing at one of the bottles on the table. So, Tommy decides to become one of the first friendly faces here. “Yeah, but I’d rec the other one -“and he points at the second bottle. “This one is spicier.” Tommy's smile is easy and polite, bit twisted in a chewing process. But what happens within next 5 seconds makes that smile freeze and food stuck in his throat. “Oh yeah? Thanks! Never too much spice, - Buck grins at him and winks. “Just what I need!” He winks. And by any means, it’s near same obscene as Sal’s innuendos.  But no one seemed to notice, and Buck already redirected his efforts into putting as much food on his plate as possible. And maybe - maybe Tommy just overthinks it?? Maybe that’s just the way this guy communicates? Just a silly little playful - Wait, no! Even if so, how the hell is it appropriate?!  They are not friends. They literally just met. They are colleagues (about to become). And Tommy is not a freaking high-school girl to be winked at like this, for fuck’s sake! Buck continues to chew and talk non-stop, smiling at everyone who’s willing to talk to him; table mood is pleasant and unbothered, and no one notices how one of Tommy’s hands involuntarily makes itself into a fist under the table. He’s not angry, in fact. Just.  He doesn’t know. He cannot explain. But one thing he’s certain of, he’s sure as hell won’t be calling that brat a “Buck”.

I have no idea where it goes so god help me 🙃

[katzkinder]

Servamp headcanons, ice cream edition! Because my grandma got an ice cream maker and we’re all super eager to try it out but then she broke her back (she’s fine, don’t worry)

Mahiru: plain old vanilla. Misono introduced him to vanilla BEAN ice cream though and he’s feeling a little guilty about wanting to splurge a bit for the more expensive, creamier stuff… Kuro is an enabler and his encouragement is the only reason he’s still managing to resist. Just do it Mahi!

Kuro: Cookies and Cream is his favorite, but he’s also partial to cookie dough, or crumbled chocolate mint cookies as topping. He likes both the taste and the texture

Misono: chocolate lol. He’s predictable. His absolute favorite though are those ultra decadent brownie batter type of chocolate ice creams. Yknow the ones. Chocolate pieces, brownie bits, hot fudge swirl… He gets sick off the stuff easily though, so even though he loves it, self control is everything

Lily: vanilla bean with strawberry topping and cheese cake bites! He loves fresh strawberries in his desserts, and often he and Misono will trade bites if they’re getting flavor fatigue. Also very rich but the strawberry helps cuts through the sweetness

Tetsu: a Basic Boi who loves GariGariKun the most. Prefers popsicles over dairy treats. Yeah technically this isn’t ice cream but like. It’s the taste of summer and after bath refreshments. I’m not taking that from him

Hugh: vanilla with hot fudge sauce (and/or blood). He still prefers his chocolate parfaits, or better yet for this scenario, a milkshake

Licht: yknow those ultra sweet cotton candy flavors? If it’s ice cream by itself, he loves that. But if it’s a float, it’s gotta be vanilla in melon soda. If you take him to marble slab or similar place that lets you mix in a bunch of toppings, he will make a beeline for the gummy bears. Gets disappointed every time that they turn hard and unpleasant to eat, even though he already knows the outcome

Lawless: he has two favorites. Coffee bean (distinct from just plain coffee flavor) and moose tracks. I’m not sure what that’s called in other places? Basically it’s vanilla with peanut butter cups and fudge. Only goes for this when he’s depressed, if I’m honest. Otherwise it’s too sweet.

Mikuni: haagen daz amaretto almond crunch and their hojicha latte flavor. Forever sad that the former was limited edition and doesn’t make seasonal returns. It was absolutely perfect for his and jeje’s terrible Netflix movie nights (with the occasional appearance by johannes so they could make fun of the bad science together)

Jeje: since Mikuni only buys haagen daz (spoiled pretentious shit) he’s grateful they a rich pumpkin flavor that becomes available during autumn. He also really likes horchata milkshakes for the comforting taste of cinnamon.

Iduna: Tried butter pecan once and was hooked. The crunchiness of the pecans is her favorite part. It’s her go to for when Haagen Daz Creamy Vanilla Pudding flavor isn’t in season. Back home, though, it’s got to be the rather… Unique. Salty licorice flavor. She gave some to shuuhei one time just to watch him gag. She knows what she’s doing to that poor boy.

Freya: the simple freshness of strawberry ice cream is her guilty pleasure. She been thinking of making her own with an old hand churner. It would be fun, right? And it’s not like it would be difficult to get the ingredients she needs.

Nicco: Pistachio gelato, though he also enjoys the tartness and slight bitter aftertaste of limoncello flavor. He likes taking Ildio with him whenever there’s a new flavor he wants to try but isn’t sure he’ll like. Even if he doesn’t care for it, his servamp probably will. Does that make him mean?

Ildio: No preference as of yet. He’s still figuring this whole… Tasting your food thing out

Tsubaki: as expected, he loves matcha and red bean flavors. REALLY excited some of the Hagen daz hanamochi series is becoming a permanent flavor

Sakuya: rocky road. Sweet, crunchy, and a little bitter on the back end from the chocolate. Refuses to admit it but he also enjoys the hanamochi series. He’s stubborn. Whenever he wins a free popsicle he gives the stick to Mahiru, so inevitably when they hang out, that’s what he buys if they stop at the konbini, just for the chance to maybe earn some good boy points with his best friend and crush. And he thinks he’s subtle—

Reblog with your own headcanons! I love seeing what people add to my posts :3

[feyburner]

hey man do you have any banging cinnamon recipes

Yes! Below are my recipes for Monkey Bread and Gooey Cinnamon Rolls.

They use the same enriched dough for a base. You can also use this dough for cinnamon babka, other types of sweet rolls or buns, etc.

Also here’s some recipes I want to try:

- Brown Sugar Cinnamon Shortbread (made this, it rocked)

- Cinnamon Roll Focaccia

- Pumpkin Cinnamon Sourdough

- Coffee Cake (King Arthur’s Recipe of the Year!)

Also check the giant apple pop tart thing I made in a recent post tagged “food” it was so good.

MONKEY BREAD

MAKES: 1 bundt pan (if no bundt pan, use 9x13” pan)

INGREDIENTS

DOUGH

3 ½ cups (420g) AP or bread flour

2 ¼ tsp (1 packet, 7g) instant or active dry yeast

1 cup (227g) full-fat milk, warm

2 Tbsp (25g) sugar

2 Tbsp (28g) butter, melted

1 egg, beaten

1 tsp kosher salt

CINNAMON SUGAR

½ cup (100g) white sugar

1 Tbsp cinnamon

BUTTERSCOTCH SAUCE

1 cup (200g) brown sugar

½ cup (113g) butter

1 tsp salt

¼ cup heavy cream or evaporated milk

DIRECTIONS

In a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer), whisk together yeast, milk, and sugar. Cover and let sit 5 minutes until frothy, then whisk in butter, egg, and salt.

Add flour and mix for 2-3 minutes to form a very moist, sticky dough.

Let dough sit untouched in bowl 5 minutes so flour absorbs moisture. After resting, dough will pretty much immediately be smooth and workable instead of too sticky.

Transfer dough on a clean, floured surface. Sprinkle flour over the top. Knead, dusting lightly with flour as needed, until dough is soft, smooth, elastic, and springs back to form in 2-3 seconds when poked, 6-7 minutes.

1st Rise: Cover and let rise 1.5-2 hours until doubled in size.

Near the end of 1st Rise: Grease a bundt pan. Combine cinnamon sugar ingredients in a bowl.

Make butterscotch sauce: In a saucepan, combine brown sugar, butter, and salt. Bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking frequently. Turn off heat. Slowly pour in heavy cream (it will froth and spit). Stir until smooth. Put back on the heat until it reaches 240°. Then set aside.

Once dough is risen, pinch off bits the size of donut holes. Roll each dough ball liberally in the cinnamon sugar, then drop into pan. Halfway through, pour ½ of the warm butterscotch sauce over the dough balls. Reserve the other half. Sprinkle any leftover cinnamon sugar over the dough balls at the end.

2nd Rise (Proof): Cover and let rise until visibly puffy, 20-30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350°. Once dough is proofed, pour remaining ½ of butterscotch sauce over the top. Shake gently to make sure sauce sinks to the bottom.

Bake 35-40 minutes until top is a deep golden brown.

Let rest in the pan 15 minutes. Then carefully flip monkey bread onto a large plate. (If you remove too early, the sauce will be runny. If you remove too late, it will stick instead of coming out easily.)

Serve warm.

NOTES

- Butterscotch is just caramel but with brown sugar instead of white.

- Many recipes use a simple butter and brown sugar sauce, but it can result in a grainy, crystallized texture. Add cream and heat all the way to 240° to get a gooey, silky caramel texture.

GOOEY CINNAMON ROLLS

MAKES: 12 rolls (1 x 9x13” pan)

INGREDIENTS

DOUGH

3 ½ cups (420g) AP or bread flour

2 ¼ tsp (1 packet, 7g) instant or active dry yeast

1 cup (227g) full-fat milk, warm

2 Tbsp (25g) sugar

2 Tbsp (28g) butter, melted

1 egg, beaten

1 tsp kosher salt

FILLING

1 cup (200g) brown sugar

½ cup (113g) butter, very soft

2 Tbsp cinnamon

optional: 1 cup chopped walnuts

+

½ cup heavy cream or full-fat milk, warmed right before rolls go in the oven

optional: Vanilla Glaze (1 cup powdered sugar, 1-2 Tbsp milk, 1 tsp vanilla. Stir until smooth.)

DIRECTIONS

In a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer), whisk together yeast, milk, and sugar. Cover and let sit 5 minutes until frothy, then whisk in butter, egg, and salt.

Add flour and mix for 2-3 minutes to form a very moist, sticky dough.

Let dough sit untouched in bowl 5 minutes so flour absorbs moisture. After resting, dough will pretty much immediately be smooth and workable instead of too sticky.

Transfer dough on a clean, floured surface. Sprinkle flour over the top. Knead, dusting lightly with flour as needed, until dough is soft, smooth, elastic, and springs back to form in 2-3 seconds when poked, 6-7 minutes.

1st Rise: Cover and let rise 1 hour until larger (if not doubled) in size.

Make filling: Beat all ingredients together into a smooth, dark paste.

Roll out dough: On a clean, floured surface, roll out dough into a large, ½”-thick rectangle about the size of a baking sheet, 12x17”. The thickness is more important than the size.

Spread filling over the dough in an even layer. Leave ½” of space at the edges, and 2” of space along the bottom for easy sealing. (If using walnuts, sprinkle over top.)

Starting at the top, tightly roll up the dough lengthwise. It helps to start in the upper corner and go sideways first, then straighten out. Roll tightly to avoid gaps. Pinch the dough to seal along the seam.

Using a large, sharp knife or unflavored dental floss, slice the roll into 12 pieces. If they get a bit misshapen, just pat back into shape as you go. They don’t have to be perfectly round.

Proof: Arrange the rolls in the pan. Cover and let proof for 30 minutes until puffier.

Preheat oven to 375°.

Pour the warm cream or milk over the tops of the proofed rolls, letting it pool in the bottom of the pan.

Bake the rolls for 25-30 minutes until the tops are golden brown.

Let rest in the pan for 15 minutes before removing. If using Vanilla Glaze, drizzle over the rolls while they’re warm but not hot.

NOTES

- Same dough as Monkey Bread. I’ve experimented with richer enriched doughs (most recipes use more sugar and 2 eggs in the dough) but I tend to find them too cakey. I prefer a soft, almost stretchy, bready cinnamon roll.

- Pouring warm milk over the rolls before baking = soft, moist, and gooey.

- I’ve found that baking at 350 takes too long for the tops to get golden brown. I go for a higher temp (I’ve gone up to 400) to avoid overbaking.

[tastesoftamriel]

Hey Tal! I was preparing stuffed jacket potatoes for my family and it made me wonder;

"If each race was given a baked potato (any veriety), what would they stuff it with? (Let's pretend the bosmer is non pact compliant but still likes honoring their roots.)"

Since you'll find potatoes in every other barrel across Tamriel, you can bet that stuffed baked potatoes are probably the most universal dish we know of. Whether you love them or were fed too many of them as a child, there's a baked potato out there for everyone in Tamriel.

Altmer

You know what, the High Elves really have to be fancy about everything. Instead of gutting and filling your regular jumbo jacket potato like literally everybody else, they make large hasselback potatoes and painstakingly insert ingredients between the slots before baking. These laborious (but admittedly delectable) potatoes are usually offered filled with either four cheeses; mozzarella, tomatoes, and pesto; roasted vegetables with tapenade, or pancetta, gruyere, and sausage.

Argonians

Baked potatoes are great for playing a heated game of teeba-hatsei with, much to the rage of many an Argonian parent who had painstakingly made dinner. When they're not being slapped around for a laugh, Argonians eat their baked potatoes by making a well in the centre and crack a hot quail egg in, before topping it with deep fried mealworms or crickets and a bit of lime sambal. Scramble it up and you're good to go!

Bosmer

To every Green Pact-abiding Wood Elf I'm about to sadden with this, I apologise in advance for what I'm about to propose. But imagine a lovely jacket potato stuffed with a good slathering of smoked timber mammoth cheese atop battered thunderbug eggs, smoked bristleback bacon, jalapeño mayo, and sweetgnat butter. I don't need to imagine it; I made one with my friend Berrilyn, and it was glorious. Definitely on the heavy side, but loaded with every good ingredient Valenwood has to offer!

Bretons

Cheap, filling, and delicious. That's all a baked potato needs to be in High Rock, making it one of the Province's most popular foods among the common folk. Just about every sauce-based dish you can think of can go onto a jacket potato, from melted roquefort, goose egg, and dry cured ham to the classic combination of tomato beans and candied bacon rashers, and even reusing yesterday's Tarragon Chicken! There aren't really any limits on what you can fill a jacket potato with in High Rock, as long as you have a good knob of butter in there!

Dunmer

While potatoes are a perfectly standard and valid ingredient in Morrowind, I know you all want to hear about jacket ash yams. Popularised by Ashlanders, who bake their potatoes on lava, jacket ash yams can be found at every tavern and cornerclub across the Province. Minced nix-ox in a spicy comberry ragout; scrambled kwama eggs with caramelised scathecraw; and even Hackle-lo and Scuttle Curry are at home on a big, piping lava-hot ash yam. Don't forget to get some crunchy deep-fried kwama scrib to go on top- well worth the gold, I promise!

If you get the hankering for a taste of Morrowind, try my Raven Rock Baked Ash Yams.

Imperials

There are two rules surrounding baked potatoes in Cyrodiil: the potatoes must always be Jumbo Potatoes, and you must always use olive oil instead of butter. With that flavour profile in mind, think simple, complementary toppings like sundried tomatoes with goat cheese and fresh basil; cheese curds and red wine gravy; bresaola, chili oil, and gorgonzola, and browned pine nut butter with a good smear of ricotta and creamed battaglir.

Khajiit

Northern and Southern Elsweyr have a distinct difference in their baked potatoes: the North likes them rich and spicy, while the South prefers sweeter flavours that complement moon sugar. Northern Elsweyr is famous for its fiery curry-filled jacket potatoes, filled to the brim with rich, generally tomato-based curries featuring local ingredients like braised jerboa, pulled terror bird, and diced mutton. Meanwhile in Senchal, you'll find your average baked potato partially filled with things like chicken satay pieces in moon sugar peanut sauce, haloumi with moon sugar syrup, and sweet crispy shrimp and pork floss. But wait, 'partially filled?' Yep! In Southern Elsweyr, the insides of the potato are scooped out and rolled together with powdered moon sugar to make horrifically sweet potato 'candy' for dessert after you've finished your jacket potato. Who am I to judge?

Nords

Mammoth cheese? Horker bacon and smoked kippers? Pulled pheasant in brown ale gravy? All very valid and very traditional Skyrim options. However, I'm jumping up and down at the thought of a baked potato topped with freshly baked salmon or gravlaks with dill, lots of sour cream, and a bit of mustard! Simple, good, and I will shout at anyone who calls this combination bland. You can take the girl out of Riften, but never the Riften out of the girl.

Orcs

Where Wrothgarian Orsimer are concerned, there's a joke that every other meal is a baked potato (and that's sometimes the unfortunate case when a Hearth-Wife isn't very good at her job.) Gooey, mouthwatering echatere cheese raclette is the favoured topping in the region, melted atop of a bed of fillings like spicy wrathberry gravy with echatere or beef chunks; chopped mammoth bratwurst; grilled chub loon with frost mirriam barbecue sauce, and deep fried horker lard bits and sweet-and-spicy minced horker. Indulgent, and by Malacath, they're filling too.

Redguards

Where the Orcs have their echatere cheese on jacket potatoes, Hammerfell loves its goat cheese. Whether it's aged chèvre log slices or fresh and crumbly, you can bet it's going on a baked potato. It's paired with a range of moreish fillings, like harissa and apricot chicken; tender goat mince with a cumin-based curry; battered, fried snake with a tangy and sweet lemon drizzle, and shawarma meat with creamy garlic sauce and caramelised onions.

[najia-cooks]

Hey Najia! I love this blog so much! I have a question. I find cooking pretty difficult sometimes. I'm chronically ill and also the kitchen stresses me out a bit because I'm very scatterbrained and there's knives and fire and stuff. I also fuck things up in the kitchen pretty easy. Are there any recipes on here you find particularly easy to make? That you'd recommend for when you just cannot be arsed? Hope you're having a wonderful day, I know it's your birthday 😄🎉

Thank you!

I can understand your stress—cooking can involve things that are objectively dangerous and also time-sensitive. I'd recommend:

Try recipes where you don't have to come into direct contact with the blades you use. Some Indian dals, for example, cook lentils in a sauce made from blended onion, tomato, and garlic; you could process them using a food processor or blender. A lot of things (fresh salsa, guacamole, a duqqa of garlic, chilies, and spices that you can throw in to cook with some lentils) can be prepared in a mortar and pestle, too.

I've never used one, but a vegetable chopper might help in a similar way that a food processor would, by reducing the amount of knifework that you have to do. There are a lot of recipes where a chopped onion is the only knifework required.

Also try recipes that are cooked in the oven, and not on the stovetop. Something that gets thrown into the oven on low heat to cook (like a casserole or fukharat dish) takes longer, but is more hands-off, than something that's cooked on the stove.

Do all of your prep work first. Read through the recipe and see what chopping, blending &c. needs to be done, prep each ingredient, and put it in its own little bowl. This includes anything in the ingredients list that says "1 onion, diced" or similar: do that right off the bat. If the recipe says "meanwhile" or asks you to do prep for anything while anything else is cooking, you might choose to disregard that and do all the prep first, depending on how long the cook time is and how much attention it needs (e.g., soup on a low simmer for half an hour can pretty much be left alone; anything in a frying pan cannot). This way you won't be rushing to chop anything quickly while worrying that something else is going to overcook.

Look for vegetables, like broccoli / cauliflower / romanesco and green beans, that can be broken up with your hands rather than chopped. Rip up cilantro and parsley rather than chopping them.

Admittedly "simple" is not the guiding principle of this blog, but here are some recipes that I think could be easily adapted:

Fukharat l3des: just one onion to chop. Cooked on low heat in the oven.

Fried tofu sandwich: just mixing sauces and spices. You can skip coating the tofu in cornstarch and frying it. Instead try freezing the whole block, thawing it, cutting into two or four pieces, and then marinating it in a plastic bag with your sauce overnight. Then bake the tofu for 15-20 minutes, turning once, at 350 °F (180 °C).

Roasted celery and potato soup: requires only very rough chopping; the cooking methods are baking and simmering. The fried tempering could be skipped by just adding those ingredients into the simmer earlier.

Carrot salad or chickpea salad or tapenade: you could throw all of the ingredients in a food processor.

Moroccan lentils: just an onion and tomato to grate or process.

Kashmiri lal chaman: the only thing you need to cut is tofu; the gravy is just water and spices. You could bake the tofu instead of frying it.

Black bean burgers: no chopping or frying if you omit the onion and carrot and elect to bake the finished patties.

'Chicken' and olive tajine: the marinade is blended or pounded, and there is no other prepwork to do other than chopping one onion. Everything can be simmered on low heat until cooked, so it's pretty hands-off.

Chana pulao: mostly rice, chickpeas, and spices. Some aromatic prep, but you could crush instead of chopping those.

Romanesco quiche: no knifework at all if you omit the aromatics and break aprt the romanesco with your hands.

Spanish garlic mushrooms: just crush garlic instead of slicing and buy pre-sliced mushrooms. There is frying, though.

Eggplant cooked salad: the eggplant is broiled and then spooned out. No knifework required if you use tomato puree.

Butternut squash soup: just roasting and simmering. No knifework required if you omit the aromatics and buy pre-cubed squash.

Dishes with a base of lentils, chickpeas, beans, rice, and/or noodles are great because there's no knifework that needs to be done to prepare the beans &c. themselves.

[kentosbabes]

Cooking date night with Nanami

Nanami who scrolls through possible recipes on his phone for hours until he finds the perfect one for your dinner date night. When he does he's sending it straight to you 'What about spaghetti love?' and with a 'sounds perfect' from you, he's out at the shops buying all the ingredients and heading home.

Nanami who rushes home and cant wait to unwind with you after a long day. your already getting started on the meatballs with ingredients you already had when he's walking in with a shopping bag.

Nanami who also brought some of your favourite snacks and expensive wine for your date night. 'Kento that's so sweet of you' you say giving in a quick kiss before going back to making the meatballs. He would hate to show you how much he's blushing 'Uh um I'm going to go get change and I'll come back and help with the sauce.' he mumbles rushing off to your bedroom.

Nanami who gets distracted while looking at how you move your hips along with the song playing as you take the lid off the chopped tomatoes. Of course that means he forgets he's pouring chilly flakes into the source 'Kento that's way too much!' You say taking the chilly flakes away from him looking at practically half the bottle emptied out in the sauce.

Nanami who hugs you from behind as you try and fix the sauce. He sways against you to the music trying to relax your form your stressed state by peppering you with kisses.

Nanami who sets the table with sophisticated cutlery and bowls as you bring over the large bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and a plate with garlic bread. He makes sure to pull out your chair for you as you sit down and pours you a glass of wine.

Nanami who cant stop complimenting your cooking skills. 'I love when you cook, it tastes so much better then when I do it', 'your so perfect' as he twirls his pasta before eating it.

Nanami who loves how sexy you look in your silk pajamas with your hair in a bun and your glasses on as you sip on your wine. His leg finding its way in between yours as he tries to smoothly get his knee to reach your core.

Nanami who smirks as you roll your eyes knowing how this ends up. So you get up and take the dishes away in order to escape his antics but it only makes it easier for him. Pulling you into his lap when you come back and fingering you 'I can't wait to make you my little house wife', 'your so good to me doll'.

Nanami who tells you to sit down while he finishes up the cleaning as you talk to him about your day. 'you just sit there and look pretty for me yeah, I've got this.'

Nanami who can't stop thinking about marrying you and coming home to the smell of you cooking as you dance around the kitchen. He makes sure to spoil you for the rest of the evening after the chilly insident.

Nanami who enjoys having his desert spread out on his bed as he licks and sucks up and down your folds watching as your squirm underneath him.

Nanami who goes to sleep with you in his arms thinking about having a quiet and simple domestic life with you.

Masterlist