#what is it about cheese sausage and bread that they go so perfectly together

[xcziel]

sometimes a good dinner is sausage, cheese, croissant with butter, and some grapes

[arrowflier]

My little entry for @gallacrafts theme 2: my original plans fell through, but I have a camera and words in my head, so here we go!

Ingredients for a Better Breakfast (and a better life)

Green Tomatoes

Some people say that green tomatoes are dangerous.  They're too acidic, they're toxic, they're not good for eating.

But past that pale, tart exterior, green tomatoes are full of good things.  Vitamins, to keep you well.  Like the ones your spouse puts by your plate every morning, to make sure you don't forget.

Antioxidants, for protection.  Like strong arms around your cells, leaving only to hunt down what would hurt you.

Some say they're an acquired taste, and that might be true as well.  The bitter tartness of them raw can make the strongest stomachs rebel.  Most people cook them, soften them, even encase them in other things to make them palatable.  Or they force them to finish ripening, to fit their idea of a tomato better.

You think those people are idiots.  You've always liked your tomatoes as they are.

"Ian, these tomatoes are green."  "Yes?"  "So why the fuck did you pick them if they're not ready?"  A kiss to the side a head, hands soft on tense shoulders.  "Because.  They're good for me."

Fresh Fruit

No one eats enough fresh fruit, these days.  Not the kind you buy from the store--the kind you take right off the tree, the shrub, the vine.  The kind that makes your hands sticky when you pick it, with juice and sap straight from the wound your interference leaves behind.

Your hands are scratched from twigs and thorns, the plant protective of its bounty.  But once you prove yourself worthy, once it lets you pull fruit straight from its heart, the reward is so much sweeter, so much more unique, than anything you could find on a shelf.

"Ian, what did you do to your hands?"  "What, the scratches?  Don't worry, it's nothing."  "Ian..."  "Here, try these grapes, I picked them off the neighbor's new vine." "..."  "Good, right?" A nod, then gentle hands on rough.  "Yeah.  But we'll eat 'em later; let's go get you cleaned up."

Slightly Burned Toast

Bread is the basis of so many dishes.  It forms the boundaries that keep things inside, the hard crust that protects the soft, the soupy, the fragile pieces of the meal.

But people get picky about their bread.  They want it just right, every time, perfectly golden and perfectly baked.  They smother it in other ingredients, make it work too hard, and then complain when it cracks and falls apart.

They don't appreciate it.  Don't let it shine on it's own, it's own way.

You like your bread plain, sometimes, first thing in the morning.  Slightly burned from the toaster, but soft underneath.  Unvarnished, uncomplicated; strong enough to hold the world, but not burdened with it.

"Good morning Mr. Milkovich."  "Good morning Mr. Gallagher."  "Gonna put some more bread in that bitch?"  "Absolutely."

Eggs, Scrambled

Eggs are one of the most commonly known breakfast foods, served in many ways.  Perfectly sunny-side up, the way your brother used to like.  Over-easy and over-sized, two yolks in the middle, extra protein for a busy day.  Hard-boiled and peeled, still hot from the water, soft and sliced on toast.

All good.  All worth eating.  But none quite what you wanted.

Or they can be thrown together with everything left in your fridge , cooked in one huge mess by your husband and the niece he adores, and piled high on a chipped plate just for you.

That's the way you like them, Scrambled with sausage and cheese and tobasco, a perfect mix of things you'd never have known went so well together.

"You don't have to eat that, you know."  A mouthful of food, pieces falling as a mouth opens to speak.  "What?" A finger, pointed.  "I know Fran got eggshells in that, I can make a new one." Arms folded protectively around the plate, a sharp glare over top.  "Don't you fucking dare.  These are mine."

Beverage of Choice, Served Hot

Coffee is traditional with breakfast, to help you wake up.  But weak stomachs can't handle the acid, and your body can't handle the caffeine.  You could water it down with cream and sugar, drink tea instead...but it isn't the same.

So your husband took care of it, last Christmas.  Got you a special decaf blend, mild and perfect.  He brings it to you in bed, and you buy him the fancy stuff he pretends he doesn't like when you go out on your run.  You get a second cup and drink it together, feet tangled under the table, the perfect start to your morning.

"Gonna need to stock up again soon." A hum of agreement, hands held over the table.  "What can I say?" A kiss pressed to a mug-warmed palm.  "You did good, Mick.  It's my new favorite.

Combine all ingredients in your mouth, mixing well.  Let them settle into your body, into your heart, into your mind.  Savor, enjoy.  And be glad that tomorrow, you can have it again.

[dcbbw]

Would you ever 📝 AU Romance. Riley having a pregnancy scare or how would Liam would react?

@gkittylove99!!! THIS ASK! THIS.ASK. I have to thank my pre-readers and idea bouncers @sirbeepsalot, @burnsoslow, and @ao719. And to all the folks I sent random snippets to, thank you for not thinking I was crazy!

Warnings for this full-blown fic: Slightly NSFW, Frank discussion of pregnancy termination

I awaken to feel Liam’s weight pressed against my back. His palms cover the backs of my hands as his cock sits in my center, throbbing and twitching.

“Are you awake yet?” His breath, warm and stale, tickles the back of my neck.

I respond by arching my hips upwards; I feel his groin  grind against me as he alternates his thrusts between teasingly slow and hard and rough. His teeth scrape my skin between groans of: “Throw that pussy at me,” and “You like how this dick feels?”

The head of his cock is pressed against my spot and I cry out as I release over his shaft; the pillow muffles it. Shortly thereafter, I feel his orgasm splashing against my still clenching walls. He pulls out and rolls over onto his back.

We start every morning with some form of sex. Sometimes it’s oral for me, a blowjob in front of the bedroom mirror for him, or intercourse. It’s always vanilla; we save the kinky for the nighttime.

I stay laying on my stomach; I have been tired lately. And unfocused. I think I need vitamins, maybe an iron supplement. Liam’s voice rouses me, and I turn my head to look at him.

“You need to get up, Riley. It’s time for your shower.”

“I don’t feel good,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a cold?”

I shake my head. “I just don’t feel good.”

He gives me an odd look before speaking. “I’ll make you some tea and arrange to telework today.”

And then he rises naked from the bed, leaving me alone in the room.

One Week Later

It’s Wednesday, and I am in the office. Chase and Penelope have gone to make the Starbucks run before staff meeting. I didn’t order anything; I am still queasy and it’s strongest in the morning. I feel even more rundown, and there is some heartburn. I am booting up my laptop when my desk phone rings. It’s Lynn, my boss.

“Hey! Come back here and talk to me,” she requests in her signature cheery tone.

I tell her to give me two minutes and hang up. The phone rings again. “Need me to bring you anything?” I answer, sure it’s her again. But it’s Liam.

“Don’t order a car this evening. My car will pick you up at 4:30.”

I stare stupidly at my screen. “Why?”

“You’ll find out.” And the call is disconnected.

I feel uncertainty twist my already roiling stomach as I head into Lynn’s cubicle. She looks up at me, a bright smile on her face. Her hair is in loose waves and falls just past her shoulders; her skin is clear with a rosy glow.

“You look great!” I compliment her. “How do you feel?”

Lynn is entering her fifth month of pregnancy. It’s her fourth; she’s carrying twins.

“Thanks! I feel like I’m hauling around a pod of whales. Sperm whales,” she giggles at her pun.

I offer her a weak smile as I sit in the only empty chair in her cubicle. She frowns slightly. “Was that HR offensive?” She waves her hand dismissively. “I don’t know and too fat to care.”

I shake my head slightly. “You’re fine.”

She begins to dig into a styrofoam container that holds her breakfast: corned beef hash, sausage links, grits, potatoes, toast, and sunny-side up eggs. The sights and smells turn my stomach even more. As she eats, Lynn prattles about her weekend, possibly hiring a new person to help Coco in IT, and maybe putting together an employee handbook.

I say nothing because if I open my mouth, the water and yogurt I had earlier may come up. Noticing my silence, Lynn looks up me; her eyes are critical as she studies me.

“Riley, are you okay? You look … listless.”

“I’m fine!” I force myself to respond cheerfully. “Just a little tired.”

One of her hands rests lightly against her burgeoning belly; the other firmly grips her fork as she drags it through hash, grits, and egg yolk. “Go home. Get some rest for the remainder of the week.”

“I’m fine,” I protest.

“Then go home and get even better. Answer a couple of emails, take a call and you won’t have to use your leave.” She speaks around mouthfuls of food.

My eyes fall to her belly. “Do you have names for the babies yet?”

“Peanut butter and Jelly.” She sees my surprised expression. “There’s a story there, but it’s definitely NSFW. I’m not dealing with HR today.”

She waves her hand at me in a “shoo” motion. “Go home! See you Monday.”

I rise from the chair and make my way slowly back to my desk. I shut down the laptop. I pick up my desk phone and call Liam.

“What?” His tone is curt. I wonder if he’s busy or doesn’t want to hear from me.

“I’m leaving work now. I’m off until Monday.”

A pause before he speaks. I hear papers being shuffled and him typing on his keyboard. “Call the car, go to the penthouse. Shower. Don’t answer the door for anyone, don’t be a Nosy Parker, and I’ll be there shortly.”

And he hangs up.

Once inside the penthouse, I wander around before I shower. It’s rare Liam leaves me alone here; I find it feels strange without his presence. The quiet sounds different, the sun slants through the windows at an altered angle. The stovetop and counters gleam in the bright kitchen; usually both are filled with pots and pans and food in various stages of preparation. I open the refrigerator; there is a platter of homemade meatballs, perfectly rolled and shaped and filled with onions and peppers, ready to be cooked for our dinner tonight. I wonder what else we’ll have.

As I cross back through the living room, I look up at the staircase; only when Liam requests me in his study do I venture into the upper level of the penthouse. There’s a study, home gym, full bathroom, guest room, and the only ingress/egress to the outdoor space upstairs.

I keep walking until I reach the bedroom. I pass Liam’s chest of drawers and frown; one of the drawers isn’t fully closed. I set my phone on top of the furniture and place my palm against the gleaming wood to push it close, but I hesitate. I wonder what’s inside. I look around, even though I know I am the only person in the house.

I’m going to be a Nosy Parker.

I pull the drawer open cautiously and peer inside: neatly folded stacks of boxer shorts in white and black greet me. Next to them are wife beaters, also in white and black, and short-sleeved undershirts in white. There is a wooden tray on the right-hand side of the drawer; it’s mostly cufflinks and tie clips, but I see two photographs, face down. I look at them curiously; just as my fingers reach out to touch them, my phone rings.

I jump and let out a small yell before pushing the drawer shut and looking at my caller ID. I don’t recognize the number; I toss the phone onto the bed before stripping and entering the shower. By the time Liam arrives home, I am wearing his robe and wrapped in a blanket on the living room sofa. There is a talk show on the television. He stands in the doorway looking at me, carrying a brown paper bag. It smells delicious.

And I am now starving.

His eyes look me over as he passes me the food; it’s a grilled cheese sandwich and cup of tomato soup with basil. I look at him gratefully before I bite ravenously into the gooey, melted cheese and hot buttered bread. The cheese melts against my tongue; a droplet of butter rolls from my lower lip down my chin.

Liam sits next to me; he turns the television off.

“You’re feeling better?”

I am drinking savory soup directly from the container. “I’m still tired, but my nausea has passed.”

He nods thoughtfully. “You haven’t used your supplies this month, Riley.”

The sandwich is at my lips, but my mouth does not open. I’m trying to calculate the last time I had my period. Liam watches me for a few seconds before speaking.

“You’re 10 days late, Riley.”

I stare at him, struggling to come to terms with what this meant. Or could mean. Even the most regular women were sometimes late due to hormones or something.

But I was sick in the mornings. I was fatigued constantly.

The image of Lynn’s hand on her pregnant belly flashes through my mind.

I set my food down; my mouth is suddenly dry. “What … what if I am?”

“Pregnant?” Liam asks as he stands, then makes his way to the television set. He stands there, arms folded across his chest. His burgundy tie is blood against the crisp, white shirt he wears.

I nod slowly.

“You’ll get rid of it.” His tone is calm, matter-of-fact.

A coldness spreads from my belly to chill my entire body. I feel goosebumps rise on my skin. “No,” I whisper. “IF I am, it’s my body!”

“But my child. I don’t want children, Riley.”

“Then you should’ve taken better precautions!” I yell as I stand and get in his face. The robe falls open. I am naked beneath it, but Liam isn’t looking at my body.

“YOU said you were on birth control!” His voices thunders throughout the apartment. He takes a deep breath as he composes himself.

“However, I should have ensured that no … accidents could occur. I’ll be rectifying that situation.”

My eyes search his. He returns my gaze, his eyes steady. How could he be so callous, so cold towards a possible life he helped create?

“I’m not getting rid of our baby. This isn’t something you can throw money at to make it go away, Liam!”

He looks at me incredulously. “It’s a BABY! I will ALWAYS BE THROWING MONEY AT IT!” He shakes his head. “Best to make a one-time payment and be done with it.” He looks at me with hard, dark eyes. “And you either get rid of it or give it up. Those are your only options, Riley. You can’t have us both.”

He steps around me, headed for the stairway that leads upstairs. “Finish your food before it gets cold.”

The heels of his shoes tap against hardwood as he jogs up the stairs. And I am alone.

All alone.

I look around and my glance falls on my lunch. I gather it and take it into the kitchen; I watch red liquid splash against the stainless steel of the sink as I pour the soup out. I wrap the sandwich in its paper, put it back inside its bag, and ball the whole thing up before tossing it in the trash.

Back in the living room, I straighten the sofa cushions and fold my blanket; I carry the blanket with me to the bedroom. I place it back inside the closet; I look at my clothing. Clothing that Liam bought. My fingertips run across the various fabrics: silk, wool, cotton; it causes the hangers to tinkle against each other.

I am standing at the window, the robe belted tightly around my waist, when I hear Liam’s voice behind me. He says I have a doctor’s appointment Friday morning to determine if I am indeed pregnant. I say nothing as my eyes stay fixed on sunlight glinting off the East River, barely visible behind buildings of stone and steel.

I feel him behind me; I smell his cologne and hear his breathing. I feel tears prick my eyes.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I whisper.

“I don’t,” he answers softly.

His arms come around my waist and I feel his face drop into my hair. Then he steps away. “Dinner in an hour.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His footsteps pause. “You should eat.” And then he is gone.

That night, we do not have sex, but we do the next morning. We then spend the remainder of the day avoiding each other and not speaking.

I sit on his ridiculously oversized bed, chin resting on my knees, wondering what I will do if I am pregnant. I have my job; I have the alimony from Maxwell. I would need to find a bigger apartment, a two-bedroom at least.

I would not ask Liam for any child support, nor would I accept it if offered.

Friday morning, we are sitting in a doctor’s office. I fill out paperwork and give the receptionist my insurance information. Liam sits in a chair, an ankle resting on a thigh while he reads a magazine. When my name is called, he walks with me into the examination room.

The nurse is cheerful; she asks me questions that I answer in a dull tone.

No, I have never been pregnant before.

My period is now two weeks late.

The nausea is worse in the morning. I also have heartburn.

No pain.

Liam’s eyes stay fixed on me.

The nurse draws blood; I go to the bathroom to pee in a cup. And we wait.

The doctor comes in 20 minutes later. I am not pregnant. But she wants to do an ultrasound. I feel relief, sadness, and fear. I look at Liam, but his expression is stoic, giving nothing away. I agree to the ultrasound.

There is cool gel. Pictures of my insides show up on a screen. There are white spots on my right side.

I have gallstones; that is why I am nauseous and have heartburn and fatigue.

My surgery is scheduled for a month from Monday.

Liam asks if there is anything that can help relieve my discomfort for the next month. He inquires about foods and drinks to avoid. But he doesn’t look at the doctor when he asks his questions.

He is squatting in front of me, his thumb brushing my cheek while his eyes hold mine captive.

The doctor answers as she scribbles on paper: Ibuprofen to help with pain, and I need to limit my dairy, fats, grease, and fried foods.

At the reception desk, Liam pays the co-pay costs. The receptionist smiles at him. “Dr. Marion will see you Wednesday. Did you receive your paperwork?”

Liam nods, and tells her he will return it no later than Monday before he takes my hand as we walk to the elevator. I want to pull away because I don’t think he would be holding my hand if I were pregnant.

He won.

But I let my hand stay wrapped with his.

“Who’s Dr. Marion?” I ask.

“My urologist.”

“Is it a routine visit?”

I feel my stomach sour even though I haven’t eaten anything.

The elevator car arrives, and we board. He pushes the button to take us to the lobby. His eyes stay fixed on the metal doors as we begin our descent downstairs.

“I’m getting a vasectomy.”

And he says nothing else.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @janezillow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @queenrileyrose @ladyangel70 @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @ritachacha @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @cordonianroyalty @superharriet

   #tw discussion of pregnancy termination #tw slightly ns*w #dcbbw answers #UnRomance AU ask #liam x riley #this isn’t Cordonia

[s-horne]

BASICALLY its about tony showing his love through food sorry that was really long

okay so i had this idea, and im really swamped with work so im passing it over to you: tony associates caring and love with food. when he was really young, he would sit on his mamma's hip, one of her arms around his tiny waist as she stirred with the other, and as he grew older and howard started demanding more of her attention (for this charity or that benefit); the only time tony and his mom spent together was in the kitchen together. 1/2)

years later, tony equates food to love. he cooks for the people he cares about. and then i lost the thread of the idea but it involves steve and tony and peter and tony cooking for steve and teaching peter recipes that he can later teach his kid (2/2)

Please enjoy 3k words of Tony in the kitchen; preparing meals for his husband and their friends, his&Steve’s adoption process, and then Tony’s legacy

*******

Spaghetti Bolognese

It was an affront to the meal. His Mama would kill him if she knew how he was preparing it.

It was the only meal she’d actually known how to cook and they had a weekly Thursday night dinner date in the kitchen when Howard worked late at the office. She’d carry him round on her hip when he was too small to see what she was preparing on the countertops and, when he’d grown a little taller, sit him in pride of place to sound out every word of the passed-down recipe written in her mother’s cursive handwriting.

Of course, Maria knew exactly what the recipe called for – which was a good job when Tony tripped over some of the measurements or skipped down a couple of lines by accident – but she let him play along until he was old enough to help her cook the actual meal itself.

It was definitely the thought that counted, Tony tried to tell himself as he stared down at the meagre ingredients in front of him. He had to work with what he had and what he had wasn’t much. The only tomatoes he’d had in his cupboards were the tinned kind, so the sauce wouldn’t be as good as his Mama’s when she used the fresh tomatoes from the farmer’s market they had to drive out of town for.

He’d only wanted to make something a little special for Steve. Their anniversary had been interrupted by a battle and they’d gone from a romantic meal at a five-star restaurant to suited up and locked in a fight with an alien invader. Given that they were meant to eat out, their kitchen wasn’t exactly stocked for cooking.

“Need a hand?”

Tony lifted his gaze from the two jars of dried herbs he’d been choosing between. Neither were particularly appealing so he was glad of a distraction. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Woke up,” Steve said, stifling a yawn behind his hand as he wandered over to Tony. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Tony agreed with a roll of his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips. He turned back to the dried ingredients in front of him as he waved to the other side of the kitchen, eyes drawn to the way his ring caught the light. “You can chop whichever onion hasn’t gone off over there. I think there’s actually a part of the serum that means you won’t cry whilst you chop it.”

Steve huffed a laugh, trailing his hand over Tony’s hip as he passed him. “Pretty sure that’s not a thing.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Dice it finely, please.”

Vegetable Soup

Vegetable soup was easy. Most soups were easy, really. Tony could make most of them with one hand. Chopping the vegetables was sometimes a little tricky with his arm in a sling, but he could stir the vat of broth easily.

After a battle, it was all that anyone needed. A few loaves of bread in the centre of the table and a mountain of pain relievers handed round with the crockery and they were set.  

“Can I help?”

Tony looked up from the pot and over to Peter, hovering in the doorway with his arms wrapped round himself. He looked young, so much younger than he was. “You’re meant to be resting.”

“Couldn’t sleep. The pills hurt my head.”

“But they heal everything else.” Tony beckoned Peter over before he turned back to the stovetop. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone dropped a bus on me.”

“Been there. Grab a tomato and stop chopping.”

Peter did so wordlessly, shooting Tony a soft smile as he slid into a chair by the table. “What else do you want me to do?”

“A few peppers, if you’d like.”

“How thick?”

“Whatever you want.” Tony watched Peter out of the corner of his eye, the way that he winced when he reached for a fresh vegetable in the middle of the table and how he moved gingerly with his eyes narrowed into slits. “How bad is it?”

Peter sighed. He worked on carefully dicing his whole pepper before he spoke again. “Bad. I can’t go home. No one can see these injuries. They’re already questioning me and this will push them over the edge of kicking me out.”

“You’re already home,” Tony said lightly, concentrating on adding a few spices to his soup instead of looking back at Peter. He could feel eyes on the side of his face and fought the urge to turn with everything he had. “After we’ve eaten, I’ll show you the papers.”

The pot bubbled, loud in the otherwise silent room. Tony smiled down at it as he stirred in large circles, scraping the side of the vat where the sauce threatened to burn.

“I’d like that.” Peter sniffed a little and let out a muffled curse. “Well. I’m done with these. Can I help you make the bread?”

Rosemary Focaccia

Tony loved making his own bread. When he was a child, their cook would only let him in the kitchen if he promised to be calm and quiet and she’d quickly realised that one way to keep him like that was to prop him in front of an oven to stare at the bread as it rose.

The smell of yeast and the uncooked dough turned Tony’s stomach as he’d gotten older, but there was nothing better than the scent the bread produced when it started to bake. Fresh rosemary only added to that, or maybe even a few cloves of garlic mixed in with the dough.

Focaccia took a long time to knead and for the rising process to get done perfectly, but spending that long watching over it in the kitchen meant that Peter could sit at the breakfast bar to finish his homework and not be alone.

Peter hated being alone. They’d discovered that pretty quickly after he’d moved into the tower with the rest of the team and had all started going almost out of their way to ensure that Peter didn’t have to suffer by himself. It wasn’t exactly a hardship for Steve to sketch in the communal living room instead of his bedroom, or for Sam and Bucky to train on the mats in the middle of the gym whilst Peter ran laps around the edge to get out of his own head.

And if definitely wasn’t a problem for Tony to dig out the recipe books that had been sent to him after their cook had passed away and flick through them to find an old Italian favourite that would take him a good couple of hours to perfect.  

Cookies

Cookies were a staple in Tony’s recipe book. There were many different varieties, so many tweaks that could be made to each batch to make a different cookie type for any occasion.

“–so that’s why Ned isn’t allowed into the theatre practice room anymore,” Peter said in-between bites of a pecan and chocolate chip cookie. “So we can’t go in to see Madison when she’s in there. We have to meet in the math rooms.”

Tony nodded along as though he’d understood any word Peter had been babbling on about. “Right.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d asked to prompt Peter’s longwinded explanation, but he didn’t mind the company.

“Oi, Spider-kid.”

Peter jumped comically at the voice from behind them and Tony shot an arm out to catch him before he fell off the breakfast bar he’d perched himself on. “Jeez, what – oh. Black Widow. Ma’am, I didn’t, I’m sorry, I–”

“Gym,” Natasha said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder to show where she wanted Peter to go. “Spar session. You’re ten minutes late.”

Peter’s eyes went wide and he scrambled for his phone, paling when he realised that he was, in fact, late. Tony couldn’t hide his amusement and snorted loudly, earning himself a dirty look from Peter and an unamused eyebrow raise from Natasha.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of it, either,” Natasha said to him. “Steve is already down there with Thor. They could do with a third. A mediator of sorts.”

“Oh, no.” Tony shot a faux-upset look towards Peter before grinning at Tash, “sorry, but these cookies just aren’t going to bake themselves, now, are they? Pete’s good for the job, though. Practical experience and all that.”

Peter’s glare was about as powerful as a newborn kitten’s, but it tugged at Tony’s heart nonetheless. Giving him a smile, Tony reached for the batch of raspberry cookies he had just pulled from the oven and counted out ten.

“A special treat,” he said, urging Peter off the breakfast bar and herding him in Natasha’s direction. Setting the cookies on a plate at his side, Tony winked at the kid. “For when you’re finished. You’ll need to get your sugar levels back up.”

Rigatoni Pasta Bake

The only difference between Tony’s preferred version of a pasta bake and the classic that Ana had taught him as a child was that his was a bit more adventurous. It served to make things just a little bit more exiting. Everything he did was done with a flair of the dramatics, so it made sense for cooking to follow the same lines.

Making his pasta bake was an excuse to throw everything in his cupboards into the mixture. A hundred different varieties of cheese for the topping, ground beef and sausages for the filling and whatever vegetables he found in the back of the fridge to make the meal just a tiny bit healthy. Tony loved to make it, loved to spend an entire afternoon shaping each piece of pasta if he really wanted to get out of his head. Experimenting with different sauces was his favourite – a tomato sauce for a rainy Sunday afternoon, a cheese sauce for an evening in front of the television, a mushroom and white wine sauce for a romantic evening in.

His pasta bake was the first meal he’d made when they’d finally adopted Peter, legally and truly. Maybe a small part of him had been wanting to show off, but Tony had really cared about making sure Peter had a real square meal. Something to help him recover from the small scrapes he’d gotten in his night-time brawls, to repair some of the damage of malnourishment from his previous home.

It was something so simple, but made with so much care.

Apple Pie

As stereotypical as it may have been, Steve loved apple pie. It had been something of a staple in his household when he’d been growing up and his mom had made it whenever they managed to get the fresh ingredients needed. Steve spoke so fondly of her hours in the kitchen, telling how he was often too ill and weak to do much more than sit at her side and watch, that sometimes Tony felt as though he’d been there too.

Sweet pastry wasn’t Tony’s favourite thing to make, so he chose to keep it for really special occasions. The sort of days where he wanted to spoil Steve a little, wanted to make him feel important and loved and all the things that Steve made Tony feel every day.

Tossing out the apple cores and scraps he’d collected on the side of his chopping board, Tony settled in to decorate his pie. He preferred the open-top approach, liking to cover his filling with thin slices of apple and a sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar instead of more pastry. Lost in thought, Tony startled when Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Happy birthday,” Tony murmured as he fell back against Steve’s chest. “Wasn’t expecting you up just yet. Thought I tired you out last night.”

“Hm. You did a pretty good job, but the bed was empty. I don’t like it when the bed’s empty.”

“Sorry, darling. Wanted to make this for your birthday breakfast.”

Steve nosed at Tony’s shoulder, dropping kisses to the bare skin there. The first thing Tony had found on their bedroom floor when he’d woken at the crack of dawn was a workout shirt of Steve’s. Given its size, the material hung off Tony’s frame. It wasn’t practical, but it was cozy.

Sexy, as well, apparently, if the hardness pressing against his ass was anything to go by.

“Pie for breakfast?” Steve asked, hooking his chin over Tony’s shoulder as his hand shot out to snaffle a piece of apple floating in the bowl of warm water at Tony’s elbow. “How lucky am I?”

“Of course it’s pie for breakfast,” Tony said, hands working quickly to place the apple slices on the top of the very-nearly finished pie. He kicked at Steve’s ankle for punishment of the theft, but couldn’t find it in him to be too mean. “It’s not every day you turn four hundred and seventy-three.”

Standing as close as they were, Tony felt Steve’s laugh vibrate through him.

“Demon.”

“That’s me,” Tony replied happily, laughing with Steve and tilting his head to one side when Steve bit at his neck in retaliation. “Now, get off me, you brute. Let me stick this back in to brown.”

Moving back a fraction, Steve’s hands danced over Tony’s stomach. “How long do we have?”

Tony sighed happily when the pie was in, his eyes falling closed when Steve swapped from biting to sucking a deep bruise just above his pulse point. “Long enough.”

Indian Potato Pie

“Here, try this.”

Whatever Steve had been about to say was cut off by Tony shoving a forkful of potato-filled pastry in his mouth.

“Well? What do you think?”

Steve fanned his mouth. “I think it’s hot,” he said through the mouthful of crust. “Did you cook this with lava?”

“But what about the texture? The filling – do you think it needs more of a kick? I only put in a small amount of chilli flakes this time and a lot less ginger than I did before. I think I liked it better last time.”

“Tony,” Steve reached out and caught Tony’s hand, taking the fork from him before twisting their fingers together, “this pie is perfect. You’ve been making it since you were a child. You’ve perfected it so much you could make it in your sleep.”

“No,” Tony said dismissively, turning back to the counter and peering at the unbaked pie on the side. “I think it needs more salt. You can taste it in the crust. Let me just redo the pastry.”

Steve used his grip on Tony’s hand to pull Tony into his chest, wrapping his free arm around Tony’s waist to hold them close together. Tony gave up without a fight, his shoulders slumping as he rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

“Please stop worrying,” Steve whispered. “Replace the bit you shoved in my face and pop it in the oven. It’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Steve ducked his head and caught Tony’s lips in a sweet kiss. “I know you and I know our son. He wouldn’t be bringing someone home unless they were special to him. There’s no way we can scare them off. Not with a pie, at least.”

Tony Stark-Rogers’ Recipe Book

The book had taken him years to complete. Tony had started it as a young boy when Jarvis had bought him an empty journal for his fourth birthday. For the first few years of its existence, Tony had hidden it under his bed just in case Howard ever entered his room and caught sight of it.

Every page had been handwritten, carefully crafted letters spelling out the words of each recipe (and most of them had even been spelt right because Jarvis had helped him).

There were sections of his Mama’s recipes, the ones she’d passed down to him from her Mama and even her Mama’s Mama. Though Tony had never gotten to meet either of them them, he’d known even as a child that that was pretty important.

Ana Jarvis had a section as well, one with special Hungarian recipes that Tony had needed a lot of help to spell. He’d shown Ana one day, down in the kitchens. He’d pointed out all the best bits that he’d coloured in the colours of Hungary’s flag and Ana had started crying. Tony had been horrified and started tearing up himself before she promised him that he was a lovely little boy and she was crying because she was so very proud of him. Even as an adult, Tony remembered that he’d gotten a huge hug that night before bed and an extra special plate of lemon squares brought up to his room – made just for him!

As he’d gotten older and his book had gotten fuller, Tony had carefully moved it from journal to journal, cutting out pages and sticking them back into the next edition with slight amendments or scribbled changes to quantities. It was his pride and joy.

“You’re going to take care of this, aren’t you?”

The child stared at him with wide eyes, so big they were nearly popping out of their head. They didn’t speak a word, but their head just about wobbled off with the velocity of their nodding.

“You’re going to listen to Nonno when he tells you what to do in the kitchen?”

Another round of silent nodding and Tony laughed, bending down to his grandchild’s level. Holding out his arms, he let his precious recipe book rest in the palm of his hands, ready for the taking.

“Go on then, bambino. It’s yours.”

Tiny fingers curled over the edges of the stained and battered book, complete concentration etched all over the child’s face. The love Tony felt threatened to beat right out of his chest and he reached out to flick his grandchild’s nose.

“What shall we bake for your first try? I’m pretty sure there’s a good recipe for mini cupcakes in there, somewhere, and I need an assistant chef.”

Tony had no qualms about handing his book down to the next wave of Starks. His children had grown up in the kitchen working tirelessly next to him to feed their teammates and friends, their siblings and their partners. It was time.

The kitchen was the heart of the home, after all.

[rabbitcruiser]

Something On A Stick Day

Something On A Stick Day is an annual fun feast celebrated on March 28. Well, something on a stick simply refers to the food items that make use of the sticks. Ice Pops, Fudgecicles, Lollipops, Cotton Candy are the few things that anyone reminisces when it comes to something on a stick. Most people like me will love to eat foods served on the sticks as it doesn’t prompt you to use your fingers to mess up with things. So eating something on a stick is really a fun and easy activity. Something On A Stick Day encourages you to eat those delicious foods or snack that uses the stick. As there aren’t so many food items that make use of the stick, this Day encourages you to be little creative and try out making sweet or spicy easy-to-eat dishes on a stick.

“Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people get together to eat.” – Guy Fieri

History of Something On A Stick Day

The origin and the history of the Something On A Stick Day are not known. The creator, this specific date and the year from when this Day has been in the celebration are also anonymous. It might be someone who loves eating the stick food has come up with a such a fun celebration. Let it be a sweet or savvy, the day celebrates all the food items that come with a stick in it. However, there some exceptions to which stick usage is hardly impossible like soup, juice, etc. Snacks and the road-side foods are served on a stick or a skewer in many cultures. The Day encourages all of us to get into the mood of creativity and try to make delicious food combo or snacks that fit on a stick. Once if you start, there are endless possibilities. Foodie lovers can keep your hands clean by picking up the end of the stick to eat different food items.

Food on the stick is considered to be one of the world’s most excellent inventions. Perhaps, the food you eat from a stick is fun and easy to eat. There are lots of recipes available globally that traditionally makes use of the stick and it may range from the breakfast to dinner with so many different flavoured combinations. Something On A Stick sweet food varieties includes toffee apple, lollipop, popsicles, fudgecicles, ice cream bar, frozen chocolate-covered bananas, caramel apples, cupcake pops and more. The spicy variants like the corn dog, hotdogs, kebabs, camp-fire sausage, chicken balls, cheese cubes on a toothpick, grilled veggies and meat and the list go on. Be it a fresh or healthy or breaded and deep-fried food, the menu choices to which the stick can be used are broad.

How to celebrate the Something On A Stick Day

Celebrating the Something on a Stick Day is quite simple and easy. Make sure you whatever you eat on this Day has a stick on it. You are restricted from using your hands strictly if you want to the celebration a grand success. Find new ways and foods that fit on the stick which needs your creative thinking. Try making your own kind of stick food to indulge yourself with more of fun. You can buy lollipops, and ice pops for your children to make them celebrate this joyful Day. Those who can afford for a Something On A Stick Day party can organize it by inviting your family and friends. Ensure you serve them foods with a stick and make them not to use their hands for that dinner. You can even conduct competitions to see who has eaten the foods that are served on the stick perfectly and award the winners.

Source

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Fine Dining (Request)

Request: “I've done some thinking and decided on my request. A scene in BoRhap that always makes me sad (even though I understand the point of it in the story) is when Freddie shows Roger his new house and invites him to stay for dinner, but Roger says he can't. So what I'd like to read is him and Roger (and the others show up, probably) having a picnic eating dinner on the floor in the not-yet-fully-assembled house. Can take place shortly after the scene in the movie for a little bit of conflict/tension.”

Requested by: @inthegardensofourminds 

Warnings: Language. 

Link to all my writing HERE

Another time, Fred.

The words still echo through Freddie’s mind, through the beautiful and empty house. There had once been days, weeks, months when Queen lived out of tiny cluttered flats, climbing over each other to get ready for work in the morning like mice clamoring for crumbs of toast with their pink, grasping paws. There had been days when the band ate every meal together, stretched out on stained and threadbare secondhand couches: Brian twirling his fork as he explains the placement of the stars; Roger leafing through music magazines, his jade eyes lit up with ravenous ambition; Deaky experimenting with riffs between bites of cold pizza. But Bri and Roger and John have families now, real families. Those old days are over, they’ve fled like passing seasons. And they are never coming back. Another time indeed.

Freddie paces around the mansion, dragging his fingertips lightly over the unadorned walls, the banister that runs the length of the staircase, the white windowsills like frames of blank portraits. All these rooms with nothing inside them, gutted of their wares and quirks and memories, all these bare corners, not even lived-in enough to collect tumbling swirls of dust; a gold-dipped palace without a shred of soul, a heart drained of blood. And suddenly, Fred finds himself feeling as hollow as Garden Lodge.

The doorbell chimes, the high-pitched pleasant sound ricocheting off the walls like refracted light. Fred hurries to the door—his Adidas slipping on the freshly-waxed hardwood floors—and snatches it open. Outside standing in the fading late-afternoon sunlight is Roger. Despite himself, Freddie feels a grin breaking out across his face, feels warmth unfurling to fill the vacant places that people love to forget they’re riddled with.

Roger raises a bulky paper bag with spots of grease on the bottom. “You like beef and broccoli, right?”

“Darling, what are you doing?!”

“You asked me to stay for dinner. So I’m staying for dinner.” Roger steps inside and meticulously circles each room, humming thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his left hand as his right clutches the takeout bag. “Where will the dining room be?”

“Oh! Come along, dear, let me show you.” Freddie leads him to a long rectangular room adjacent to the kitchen. The windows there look out into the rose gardens, speckled with red and fuchsia and white. “How do you fancy this one?”

Roger nods, pretending to be unimpressed, but smirking at Fred just enough to ruin the joke. “A little scruffy. It’ll do, I suppose.” He places the takeout bag on the floor, kneels down beside it, and starts pulling out neat white boxes.

Freddie joins him on the floor. He can’t stop smiling; but somewhere beneath the joy he hopes he doesn’t seem too needy, too desperate. When Freddie meets Roger’s eyes, Rog mirrors his smile and winks at him.

“Oh, fuck,” Roger sighs, peering into the bag. “Do you know how to use chopsticks?”

“I’m practically Japanese, dear. Hand them over.”

Rog passes Fred his dinner and a pair of chopsticks. Freddie situates the container in his lap and begins skillfully plucking out perfectly-sized bites of rice and beef. Roger watches him, posture slumped, defeated. “You think I can do that?”

“Well give it a try, darling!”

Roger opens his pork lo mein and stabs at it with chopsticks as Freddie giggles hysterically. After much wrangling Rog picks up a noodle, tries to raise it to his mouth, and immediately drops it on the floor. “Fucking...! Ridiculous goddamn noodles, stupid chopsticks, fucking fancy Asiatic bullshit.” He tears into a wax paper bag of crab rangoon and begins eating them with his callused fingers.

The doorbell rings again, and Fred raises his eyebrows at Roger.

“Oh yeah. I made a few calls.” Rog’s lips form the words around the crab rangoon he’s gnawing on.

John is at the door, a large pizza box in his arms. “Hi, Fred!”

“Deaky! Come in, come in, how are you?!”

“Do you have forks?!” Roger calls frantically from the dining room.

“Why would the pizza place give me forks?” John shoots back.

“Fucking...pizza!”

Back in the dining room, Roger is staring forlornly at his lo mein. John opens the pizza box and lays it on the hardwood floor. It’s half-pepperoni and sausage, half-cheese. Fred furrows his brow in confusion. There’s only one person they know who orders cheese pizza.

“Why—?”

The doorbell jingles once more. While John reaches for a crab rangoon and Roger whines about how he’s going to starve as he lowers a dripping slice of pepperoni-and-sausage pizza into his mouth, Fred scampers to greet his last guest. It’s Brian, balancing a takeout bag on one slim hip, his height and hair filling the doorway.

“Bri!” Freddie cries, embracing him. “Thank you for coming!”

“DO YOU HAVE FORKS??” Roger shouts from the dining room.

“Yes, of course I’ve got forks, why?” Brian answers, bewildered, following Fred through the house. “I’ve brought curries.”

“Praise be to Buddha!” Rog exclaims, lifting his hands to the ceiling.

John blinks at him. “That is...not correct.”

Brian sits cross-legged with them on the floor and gives Roger a fork. Then he begins unpacking several different containers, rice and red curry and green curry and naan breads.

“Oh no,” Deaky begins. “Is it...?”

“No,” Roger breathes, horrified.

“For fucks sake,” Freddie mutters.

“Yes,” Brian admits, quite defensively. “It does happen to be vegetarian, but it’s still delicious and healthy too—!”

The other three groan in unison.

“Do I look like a fucking rabbit?” Rog asks. “I mean, do you see any floppy ears and fluffy tails and buck teeth that I’m unaware of?”

Fred sighs. “Well, if buck teeth are what it takes...”

They all laugh uproariously, Freddie not bothering to cover his grin at all.

“You can help Brian with the veggies then,” Roger says.

“Your teeth are lovely, Fred,” John adds.

“Flattery will not get you into my will, darling Deaky, it simply will not.”

“Guess it’s time for me to come up with another hit then.” John is wearing a characteristically sly, placid smile.

“Anything but disco,” Bri says, stirring his curry.

Roger nods. “Fucking finally, something we can agree on!”

Freddie’s eyes soak them in as Bri and Rog and Deaky chat away, sharing food, shoving each other’s shoulders playfully, arguing over where they should go for dessert. Deaky spins a lo mein noodle and then launches it into Brian’s dark cloud of curls. Bri compliments the new house, the garden outside, the posh neighborhood, then somehow gets on the topic of world peace. Roger finds a box of Freddie’s ceramic flower vases, unwraps four, and fills them with water from the kitchen sink so they have something to drink.

“Rog?” Fred asks finally, gazing at him.

“Yeah.”

“I thought you had to go home to your family.”

“Freddie,” Roger replies matter-of-factly, shoveling lo mein gracelessly into his mouth, passing another crab rangoon to John. “You’re my family too.”

[onlycags]

Birthday Boy | Çağlar Söyüncü

*Since it’s my boy’s birthday today and I had some inspiration… [originally posted 23 May 2020]

- - -

You had been planning Çağlar’s birthday for months and everything was all ready to go.

He didn’t have to be up early that morning and you were glad he was a heavy sleeper so your way-too-early-for-a-Saturday-morning alarm wouldn’t wake him. It was still a bit dark outside, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon to leak into your windows and you looked over at his sleeping frame illuminated in the early morning light. A little over a year together and you still couldn’t get enough of him, especially when he looked like this.

You got out of the bed you shared, resisting the urge to kiss him, and made your way down to the kitchen. You’d been practicing traditional Turkish breakfast dishes with the help of his mum through FaceTime, the two of you talking and laughing like she was your own mother while she showed you how to make everything. It had been the best experience these last few months and you’d always looked forward to her calls when Çağlar was at training.

The cheeses, jams and spreads, and bread were all sliced up and ready to go - now all that was left was to boil the water for tea and make the Sucuklu yumurta.

Çağlar woke up to an empty bed, the sound and smell of breakfast making him curious. He smiled to himself at the mental image of you in the kitchen and before he could stop himself, he was padding down to the kitchen in search of you and the delicious smells.

“Çağlar!” You squealed when he hugged you from behind, dropping kisses on your neck. “You’re supposed to be in bed!”

“Missed you,” was all he said, popping a perfectly-cubed piece of cheese into his mouth. You took a moment to admire his bare torso, taking in the fresh ink he’d gotten the week before that was just for you, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Çağlar shot you a look when he caught you staring and you smiled up at him, shaking your head as you turned back to the eggs and sausage.

“YN,” Çağlar said, catching your attention again. He had a dollop of Nutella on his thumb and he was coming towards you with a gleam in his eye.

“What are you doing?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Stay still,” he ordered, brushing his Nutella-covered thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath caught in your throat when he tilted your chin up so he could kiss you, licking and sucking the spread off your lips. “Mm,” he hummed when he finally broke the kiss, his eyes dark with need.

“Çağlar,” you breathed, cheeks flushed and your breathing heavy. “The sucuklu yumurta is going to burn.”

In a flash, he turned off the stove, his hands on your hips as he guided you to the countertop, lifting you up. “It’s not going to burn now,” he retorted, a cheeky grin on his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked, breathless as Çağlar reached for the hem of your t-shirt.

“I’m eating breakfast,” he replied casually as he pulled the shirt over your head and cupped your tits in his hands. You whimpered as he put his mouth on your sensitive nipples, taking his time with them.

“This isn’t fair,” you whined as Çağlar laid you back. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be making you feel good.”

You gasped when you felt something in your bellybutton, looking down to realize Çağlar was placing various cubes of cheese and spreads on your body - molasses on one of your nipples, Nutella on the other. “You are making me feel good, YN. You made me breakfast and now I’m eating it.” Çağlar held your gaze as one of his hands dipped underneath your panties for a second to collect the juices he already knew were pooled between your legs. “Nefis,” he murmured as he sucked on his fingers. Yummy.

You couldn’t stop writhing around as Çağlar put his mouth on you, making little moans of satisfaction as he ate cheese from your body. “Çağlar,” you moaned, trying to thread your fingers through his hair but he stopped you.

“Stay still,” he ordered, nibbling on your earlobe. “I’m not done yet.”

***

You were an achy, dripping mess by the time Çağlar was done with you. He had fed you while he ate off of you, letting you lick and suck his fingers that he dipped in the spreads or kissing you with cubes of cheese in his mouth.

“Breakfast was delicious,” he whispered in your ear before helping you up off the counter, pulling you flush against him so he could kiss you again. “Thanks, love.”

“I’m going to need a shower,” you said, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

Çağlar made a noise in the back of his throat, taking your hand and practically dragging you to the bathroom. He tried to set you up on the counter next to the sink but you shot him a look. Instead, you reached for his sweatpants and tugged them down, biting your lower lip when his cock sprang free and you realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. You held his gaze as you slid off your panties and sashayed over to the bathtub, bending over to turn on the water while giving Çağlar the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy.

You let out a half-whimper-half-gasp when Çağlar smacked your ass and grabbed it, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. “I like the view,” he said, sliding his hand between your legs.

“You’ll like it a lot better in a few minutes,” you promised, smirking at the thought of what you were going to do next.

When the water finally warmed up and the two of you climbed in the shower, you sank to your knees, trailing kisses down his torso as you made your way to his cock. He moaned as you kissed your way up his shaft, ending with a kiss to the tip. When you took his length in your mouth, Çağlar threaded his fingers in your hair to set the pace.

You let him use you how he wanted, tears springing to your eyes as he forced you to take all of him, your nose brushing his stomach while you choked on his cock and you felt him all the way back in your throat. Çağlar muttered a string of Turkish as he sped up the pace, his body tensing as he reached his high and came down the back of your throat with your name on his lips. He dragged you up, his hand on your jaw to keep you from swallowing his cum just yet.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned as you played with it and some dribbled down your chin. “Swallow for me.” The heat in his gaze made your pussy wet as he soaped up the washcloth and started running it over your body. “Good girl.”

He was hard again by the time the two of you ended the shower and Çağlar still couldn’t get enough. Both of you were barely dry when he ripped off your towel and bent you over the counter.

“Eyes in the mirror,” he ordered, grinning when your gaze met his in the mirror.

“You’ve got training soon,” you reminded him, gasping as he slapped your ass.

“What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets,” he reprimanded, kissing the nape of your neck. “And right now, I want you.” He slammed into you and you cried out as you tried to grab onto the counter. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” he hissed, his fingers digging into your hips in such a way that you knew you’d have bruises the next day.

His name was a breathy whimper on your lips as your pussy spasmed around him, your legs shaking as you came. Çağlar watched you cum in the mirror, the look on your face and the moans you made triggering his own orgasm.

You gasped as he pulled out of you, your pussy clenching around his cock making him chuckle. “You know I have training soon,” he said, echoing your words from earlier as he turned you around to kiss you deeply while he slipped a hand between your legs again. “Make sure this pussy is ready for me when I get back.”

***

You texted Madders when Çağlar was on his way to Belvoir Drive, your excitement building. Madders had promised to distract your boyfriend after training so you could decorate Çağlar’s place and make sure everyone arrived early for the surprise.

True to his word, James was able to convince Çağlar to go out for a birthday drink with him and Ben, the trio going to one of their favourite pubs in Leicester. James kept looking at his phone the entire time, but Çağlar thought nothing of it.

By the time the three boys made their way over, Çağlar was slightly tipsy and all he wanted to do was bury his cock deep in your pussy, not realizing that you’d had other plans.

***

“SURPRISE!”

Çağlar was greeted at the door by the massive cheering, everyone coming out from behind couches and various other hiding spots. The whole Leicester team seemed to be present, Ben and James sharing guilty looks at the Turk’s glare, both of them placing blame on you so as not to be tortured unnecessarily.

You watched from an inconspicuous corner in the room as Çağlar made his way through everyone, shaking hands and offering hugs to everyone who had come to wish him a happy birthday. His eyes were shining when he finally spotted you, ambling over to you with an incredulous look on his face.

“You did all of this for me?” He asked, awestruck.

“Of course I did,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I wanted to give you the best birthday possible.”

Çağlar held you tightly in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck so nobody could see the happy tears of emotion he was trying so hard not to let fall. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, kissing you deeply.

“I know,” you replied, a cheeky smirk on your face as you grabbed his hand. “C’mon - let’s go cut the cake!”

After a round of singing and cake-cutting, everyone started to share stories and memories about Çağlar. You were fascinated to learn more about the man at your side, just when you thought you knew everything about him. Çağlar held your hand the rest of the evening, taking you with him wherever he went; barely leaving your side.

***

“Thank you for the perfect birthday,” Çağlar murmured after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, pulling you into him and kissing your temple. “I had the best time.”

“Of course,” you replied, staring up at him as you cupped his cheek in your hand. “İyi ki doğdun.” Happy birthday.

[melodieoftheuniverse]

A Slice of Boterkoek

A scene involving my version of Siebren and Selene.

The two had met in passing outside between classes, but had not had a true conversation since the impromptu lunch and chocolate moment two weeks ago. In the time between, Siebren had consumed anything and everything he could find on reputable sources about schizophrenia, especially regarding treatments. He had missed this feeling of a new interest and voracious desire for more information, but had decided midway through to keep things to himself unless she brought it up. He didn’t want to seem prying, and the simple accidental mention of her sister nearly sent her into tears, he did not want to be the cause of that. 

Siebren had no real skill in the kitchen past easy, ready-made meals, so he decided to stop by a bakery on the way to campus and pick up one of his favorites to share with his new acquaintance—could he call her that? He had always been the odd child in any group, and any time he had attempted to gain friends, they had always shunned him for daring to rejoin the group the next day. But the word fit. It felt right. And unlike most, she didn’t seem to judge him on anything. 

It was that reason that led him to choose the boterkoek from the display case. And, in his purely professional observation, food tended to be a better social lubricant.

The third time meeting, and you’re bringing her a cake, his inner voice noted. Aren’t you afraid she’ll take the calorie-laden dessert as an offense? Afraid she’ll state it’ll spoil her girlish figure?

Siebren silenced the voice with a shake of his head. What would one small slice do? Selene clearly enjoyed food, but perhaps this “social experiment” of his might teach her a more epicurean approach. How to savor, how to taste the different notes and how they became a symphony together. He snorted and shook his head again. Back to music. It circled back around to music.

He found himself walking perfectly in time to the synth music playing through his headphones, fighting the urge to let more of his body express itself. Walking in a regular rhythm was socially acceptable; flat-out “grooving” would only earn him more stares than he usually received for his height and build. He did allow himself a small head bob and a shoulder swing here and there but otherwise tried to keep his mask of normalcy firmly planted. He had started to turn towards the entrance to the building when he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. He initially dismissed it as a bird of some sort but as he turned slightly, noticed the side to side motion couldn’t be duplicated by a bird, save a large one like a crane, and those were only found in zoos in this area. He turned to face the motion fully and found Selene kneeling and waving furiously at him. He smiled, plucked an earbud out and waved back with the same hand. He noted that she had left her hair down, this being the first time he could truly see the length--and, his inner voice noted, how the sunlight caught the highlights in her auburn hair.

He shook the voice silent again, replaced the earbud, and turned back to the door, Selene’s waving returning to the previous intensity. He faced her again, pointed towards the door, and nodded in the same direction.

She shook her head, moved her arms in a large “no”, and pointed to a spot across from her on the grass.

He shook his head with exaggerated movements, and pointed back to the door.

She scowled, planted her hands on her hips, and settled into a deeper kneel.

He narrowed his eyes, but Selene had done all but put down roots. He clearly wasn’t going to win. He sighed, turned on his heels, and walked over to where she sat on the grass, dodging a flock of freshmen en route to their classes, plucking out his remaining earbud and pocketing both. 

“I thought we could sit under the stars,” Selene began as he approached the edge of her blanket, the opposite edge pinned down by her bookbag. 

He loomed over her, feeling the nearly-ever-present frown begin to tug at his face. “It’s daytime,” he replied dryly.

“Star, then,” she replied, not missing a beat. “The Sun is a star, yes? And technically we are under the stars, the Sun is just bright enough to outdo their light.” She smiled up at him, the smile unwavering until Siebren sighed and sat on an open corner of the blanket. “You look like you could use some outside time anyways.”

He casually ignored the dig at his complexion and brought the bag with the confection around to the front, having it join the spread Selene already had set out. There were slices of various cheeses both soft and hard that joined different types of sausages and salami on two plates. Next to those on other plates were both fresh and dried fruits and two different types of bread, one a sliced baguette, the other a loaf clearly intended to have chunks pulled off as needed. “What inspired the charcuterie al fresco?”

“I wanted something different. Routine is nice, but it’s also nice to change things up every now and then. Agreed?” 

Siebren stayed silent as he untied the knot in the bag and pulled out the boterkoek. That point of view was almost the polar opposite of his own. Routines were comfy, predictable. Inside was still; outside was loud, windy, messy. This change would probably throw his entire day off.

“Ooh, what’s that?” she asked, adopting the same child-like gaze she had when she noticed the projector when they had first met.

“Dessert,” he replied simply. She fixed him with a look, and he returned it with like intensity. “Dessert means after the meal. And after the meal, I will share with you one of my favorite things.” 

She snorted in annoyance, but his look remained unwavering. She grumbled, grabbed a slice of Calabrese salami, folded it, and inserted the entire thing into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated motions. He tried to remain stern, but he could feel one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. He waited until she had finished her angry chewing before crossing his legs in front of him in a more comfortable position, reaching out for one of the softer cheeses, brie, he believed. It was a young brie, the rind not quite sitting in his nose like it should. Still, it was a good compliment to the Genoa salami and...sourdough?

“I got a 90 on my last math test,” she started, grabbing a sip of water from her bottle. “He said he’d give it to my lab teacher for me to work through and maybe get some points back.”

He smiled. “Glad you took my advice on seeking accommodations.” He plucked a grape off the bunch and popped it into his mouth. A bit of sweet to offset the abundance of savory. “Let me know if it helps.”

She nodded, mouth full of a bite of bread. “It seems to be,” she answered after swallowing. “I don’t like the fact that math is this hard for me.”

He shrugged. “I am bad at expressing myself in writing. I have trouble keeping my numbers straight, but I’ve learned strategies over the years.” He rolled up a slice of cheese, then glanced over at her. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all. And perhaps your mistakes come from your state of constant hurry.”

Selene stared up at him, pulling the cheese cube away from her tongue. “And what do you mean by that?”

He leaned back, placing the cheese on his lap, letting it unroll. “Think back to the first day we met.”

“I was trying to get some food in my stomach before my class. I hadn’t had breakfast that day, so I was getting something to keep me from keeling over.”

“Ah, there it is. Time management.”

She adjusted the way she was sitting. “You’re not trying to psychoanalyze me, are you?”

“Budding astrophysicist, not psychologist. Or psychiatrist, I can never remember which. But no, your problem is time management. You have little to no sense of time...” he paused slightly, catching the glare over her water bottle, “and when it’s time to do something, it has to happen now or else. Have you considered a planner?”

“Use them for two months, then forget where I put them. Next option.”

Siebren inclined an eyebrow. He was not used to having a suggestion so quickly dismissed. “The calendar on your phone, perhaps?”

“I’ve never used it,” she stated, tearing off another hunk of bread.

“Perhaps now is the time to start?” he proposed, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She sighed, pulled her phone out of her bag, and tossed it across the blanket to land in front of him. 

He sighed as well, adopting a pose he more commonly had when listening to underclassmen explain why they needed more time on an assignment to professors in the department. He purposely took other assignments that didn’t involve being a TA for that reason. “I was going to talk you through, but if you’d like me to set up the first few reminders…”

“Reminders for what? When to get to class?”

“No,” he muttered, slightly disturbed she had no security on her phone--perhaps the next lesson? “Important things. Like remembering to eat. To take a drink of water. To use the bathroom…” He glanced up, her ice blue eyes studying him. “I get caught up in my work too. There have been days where I’ve forgotten to eat and drink anything, and I’ve paid dearly for it.” Her eyes sized him up as he said that. “Let’s start simple. When do you wake up?”

“When do I have to, or when I should?”

He snorted in amusement. “When you should be up. An attempt to retrain your mind into useful habits.”

She plucked two grapes and squirreled them into her cheeks. “My first class is at eight. I live on campus, though.”

He nodded. “And what is your morning routine?”

“Routine?”

“Surely you have things you do every morning? Take a shower, brush your teeth—” he rubbed his tongue over his front teeth subconsciously, noting that he had neglected his own teeth this morning “—have a cup of coffee with hagelslag…” She stared at him with half a slice of sausage in her teeth. “Buttered bread with chocolate sprinkles.”

“For breakfast? That’s considered a normal breakfast?”

He nodded and made a mental note to stop by the store and pick up another box for later. “Do you eat breakfast?”

She shook her head. “It’s not normally a thing. I’m not hungry until like two hours after I wake up, and it’s just easier to skip until lunch.” She stared down at the plates, consolidating the six down to three. 

“Perhaps you could consider a breakfast shake of sorts? I have a lovely recipe for one using cooked oats, peanut butter, a banana, seasonal fruit...fix it before you leave and sip on it as you go.”

“I’ll think about it.” She made a sandwich using a slice of baguette, sausage, Swiss cheese, and a grape, somehow managing to get the entire thing into her mouth. “So I have a wake up alarm and a eat breakfast alarm?”

He nodded. “Now, what is your class schedule this semester?”

She pulled a crumpled half sheet of paper from her bag, rolled up onto her knees and handed it over to him. He glanced down at the page, then back up to her. 

“Yes, I know you’re judging me.”

“Not judging. Just...considering other methods. Examining at a different angle. A three-ring binder with a front pocket, for instance, is a good starting point. Reprint this schedule, slide it into the front, put notes and such inside, since you also like doing things by hand—”

“It kinda becomes muscle memory if I write things down,” she stated, picking up the train of thought easily. “I watch my classmates type stuff and...it feels like we’ve lost touch. My parents were telling me and my sister once that they were probably the last ones to be taught cursive in class.”

Siebren briefly held his breath and stole glances over at her while he inputted when and where her first class was as well as when she should be leaving to get there on time. She had simply continued talking about how she felt she was the only one in her classes who hand wrote anything aside from response papers, seemingly glossing over the mention of her sister. He let his breath out slowly and continued adding reminders and alarms as she finished her train of thought and any meat and cheese that remained on the plates, leaving a small bunch of grapes and two dried apricots on the now stacked plates. He had waited until she had finished her train of thought before taking over, explaining how each of his alerts worked, how he had learned these coping mechanisms in Secondary School and how they had carried over easily to University, requiring only slight tweaks each semester. When he had finished explaining his methods, he noted an odd silence from Selene. He stopped and glanced up.

Selene gazed up at him, head cradled in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. “Your voice...you sound like a chocolate cake.”

“Pardon?”

“Or maybe...the warm caramel drizzle on cold vanilla ice cream.”

He set the phone down and regarded her with another raised eyebrow. He had received comments on his deep baritone voice before, but had never been compared to...food before. 

“I’ve heard some people compare it to a smooth bourbon, but I don’t drink.”

He blinked. “The caramel, or…”

“You have the most wonderful sounding voice,” she said, sitting up, still with a stupid grin across her face. “I could just listen to you go on and on…” she trailed off.

He cleared his throat and rolled up his sleeves. It had been a comfortable temperature outside before, had it gone up since they had started the picnic? “Uh...perhaps time for dessert?” he asked, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Her eyes redirected to the box still between them. He let out a grateful sigh at the change of attention. He opened the box while she pulled out two of the cleanest plates in the stack, then scoffed when he pulled out the slice.

“Is that all?”

No fears of losing her figure here, he chided his inner voice. “You’ve never had boterkoek?” She shook her head. “You poor thing. Let me enlighten you.” He handed her a piece, fished through the bag for a fork, and waited for her to take a bite. She practically purred as she bit into the dense cake.

“Oh...this is good...really good.” She closed her eyes as she swallowed. “How has this not made it over to the States?”

Ah, she is American. “I’m certain there’s areas it’s found. Surely there must be a ‘Little Amsterdam’ to go along with ‘Little Italy’ and ‘Chinatown’?”

“Not in my area.” She took another forkful, chewing slowly, moving it from one side of her mouth to the other. “What did you say this is again?”

“Boterkoek. Butter cake, in essence.”

“Butter cake?”

He nodded. “Butter, sugar, flour. Some add vanilla or lemon zest. I prefer it as is, but if flavor is added, almond, in my opinion, is best.”

“Is that what I’m tasting?”

He shook his head as he grabbed a slice of his own. “I figured I would start you out on what I feel is the purest take. A control, if you will.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So...this is an ongoing experiment?”

“If you will. Many data points.”

“Indeed. Are you providing the samples?”

“I can. But there must be time between the samples. As to not overwhelm the data pool.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She took another bite. “Sound scientific method. I take it you’ve done this experiment before?”

“A purely original hypothesis.”

“I see.” She gave him a sideways grin.

There was a part of him that told him he was clearly missing something socially, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Rather than focus on that, he instead turned his attention back to the dessert. If this was his control, how could he possibly improve?

“So...next week is the next sample size?”

“Perhaps,” he said, swallowing. “Perhaps I assist you with some of your issues in the interim?”

“What issues would that be?”

“Homework?” He watched something in her demeanor change. “Perhaps these meetings become more frequent, I help tutor you, I introduce you to my culture, you enlighten me to yours?”

She smiled. “That sounds fair. Can we switch off where we meet? I know you like inside, but on days like this, can we study al fresco?”

“That sounds agreeable. Tomorrow in the eatery? It’s expected to rain.”

“Sure. I’ll bring dessert.”

[a-kitten-with-claws-archived]

🎄⛄❄ CHRISTMAS HEADCANONS ! ❄⛄🎄

repost, don’t reblog !

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS SONG.   Modern(ish) ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas’ as sung by Judy Garland in ‘Meet me in St Louis’ - :  Traditional: ‘O holy night’ by Luciano Pavarotti

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE.  ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ - “Classic, surprising, real insight into the human condition and doesn’t pull punches when dealing with sensitive subjects such as depression and suicidal thoughts - pretty ground-breaking for the time it was made”. LEAST FAVORITE CHRISTMAS SONG. ‘Funky, funky Christmas’ by New Kids On The Block. LEAST FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE.  'Surviving Christmas’ - “Just truly terrible and awful and the thing to put anyone off Ben Affleck...forever!” FAVORITE CHRISTMAS TRADITION.  “Spending time with my family, the kids making me breakfast - although it’s usually nothing more complicated than eggs on toast, taking a walk in the cold, winder dusk after we’ve finished eating a huge lunch”. FAKE TREE OR REAL TREE?    “Fake, but really great quality ones (i have three different for the lounge, dining room and entrance hall) that look just like the real thing. One of the dogs has a bit of a problem with the smell of pine and the one time we risked a real tree, she just peed all over the place. It was not very festive”. IF REAL, WHEN DO THEY BUY IT? "Already bought and stored in the garage January 8th through to November 31st”. HOW DO THEY DECORATE THE TREE?  “Absolute loads lights, but clear bulbs only......I detest coloured lights, especially blue ones. Baubles of all sizes and designs, but usually along a particular colour-scheme, crystal star on the top and maybe some ornate ribbons”.

ANY SPECIAL DECORATIONS?   "Both of the kids have mini-trees in their rooms with the things they made as smaller children on. I do that to remind them that even as teenagers, around Christmas they can be as child-like as possible as I want them wide-eyed and excited”. HOT COCOA, CIDER, EGGNOG, OR SOMETHING ELSE?  "Champagne. Actually thre is no occasion or event that isn’t made better by champagne”. WHEN DO THEY GO SHOPPING? "Gifts-wise, I kind of do it all year round if I see something that I know will make one of my loved ones happy. I seriously start planning around mid-November though, depending on what has or hasn’t been amassed throughout the year”. GIFTS WRAPPED MESSILY, AT ALL, OR PERFECTLY? "I’m honestly surprised you needed to ask! Perfectly, of course”.

WHAT WOULD BE THE PERFECT GIFT FOR THEM BE? "Again......actual surprise here. I like shoes - Christian Louboutin shoes preferably. However, being less selfish, I chose peace on earth and goodwill to all, as that’s what Christmas is really all about”. WHO DO THEY SPEND THE HOLIDAY’S WITH? "My kids and parents. Sometimes my brother and sometimes, my ex-husband Richard, his wife and son. Poppy and Jack like to have both their parents around them”. WHAT DO THEY DO CHRISTMAS EVE? "Usually travel home for Christmas from London”. WHAT DO THEY DO CHRISTMAS DAY?  "Eat breakfast (prepared by the kids) in bed, open presents together then take the dogs out for a walk, get back and start of lunch prep, eat, drink and be merry, another walk as it starts to go dark, then snuggle up with the kids on the sofa with mince pies and Bailey’s-laced coffee while watching tv or a movie” WHAT FOOD DO THEY EAT? Breakfast: Toasted thick white bread with lashing of butter and plum jam. Dinner: Something salmon to start, then roast turkey, sausagement, prune and walnut stuffing, roast potatoes, roast parsnips, sprouts with panchetta, buttered carrots and spiced red cabbage, cranberry sauce, bread sauce and gravy. Dessert would be traditional Christmas pudding doused in brandy and served with rum sauce. Then cheese with grapes or other soft fruit, Christmas cake, mince pies......I really go over the top sometimes”. ARE THEY DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS?  "YES! The last time it snowed at home on Christmas day, was ages ago and even then, it was pretty pathetic. I need to actually get snowed in when there’s plenty of food and drink already amassed, so it gives me a great excuse to take a couple extra days holiday”.

TAGGED BY.   *Stole it from @tarnishedhalo and @ronmanmob​     cos it looked hella fun!* TAGGING. * @thepropertyofalady, @ericbrandonrp, @ashgiven, @fridge-o-mancer, @ribbedxgloves, @venavinovenor, @mysterymanjoseph, @hankmoodymofos, @blue-eyed-devils, @adsagsona, @a-stringless-puppet​, @astonishingfantasy​, @drunkbutbrilliant​, @fathermarcuskeane-exorcist​, @icxnquer​, @kinguponthesea​, @lonelybxstards​, @little-earthquakes-rp​, @lostinthemusings​, @mortuam​, @mentorxfather​, @olliscot​, @rha-egal​, @spiritusmalificus​, @sniffingoutdeath​, @the-darkening-sky​, @warrioroflondonbelow​, @whenthe-inkwell-runsdry​

[mellicose]

Anon request: tenth doctor, hands, fluff ❤😍

This is something that’s been brewing in my head for a while - a tender moment between Ten and Wilf before the fall.

The TARDIS hummed melodically in the background. She was showing off for Donna’s grandpa, and the Doctor was a bit irritated at her.

He had told her so many times the reasons why he did what he did, but she gave him her usual green-hued disapproval. Still, what’s done is done, and there was nothing else to be done about it-

“Ey, boy,” Wilf said quietly. 

The Doctor was lost in thought. Dread pressed into his skull like a vise, and no amount of Time Lord logic seemed to diffuse it. Something was coming. Something big. Huge. His hearts fluttered in his chest. He resented the battery acid tang of fear in his mouth. Lately, it’s all he tasted. He hadn’t eaten in days.

“Boy,” he said, patting his shoulder. The Doctor jumped, and gave the old man a fierce look that made him stumble back.

“Doctor,” he said tersely, and kept fiddling with his hyperdimensional defibrillator – it was acting tetchy at the moment. There was something jamming it, but he couldn’t imagine anything so huge as to jam it. At least, not in Earth space.

“Alright. Doctor,” he said, nodding. The Doctor instantly felt guilty for being so harsh. And immediately after, irritated for being guilty. The old man was basically an interloper in a tense battle between him and the Master, and…

...he didn’t know whether he could protect him, properly. It made him vibrate with despair to think that something might happen to Donna’s grandfather. He had already caused enough havoc in her family.

The man pulled off his red cap to expose a shock of white hair. He cleared his throat. The Doctor saw the echo of Donna’s eyes in his, and it made his throat tight.

“So … the TARDIS. The time and relative-

“-Dimension in space, yeah, mate. You got it,” he said impatiently. He was on the metal grating floor near the center column. His coat spread around him on the floor like a sheet. A sheet that Wilf stood on with his dusty oxfords.

“Ye said before this thing has many dimensions folded into it-”

“Infinite dimensions,” the Doctor corrected, and hit a metal pipe with a wrench. The TARDIS hiccuped with disapproval. Wilf’s eyes widened.

“She really is alive, ain’t she?” he said excitedly, looking around. He didn’t dare leave the Doctor’s side for fear he might get lost, and he didn’t want to bother the tall, mysterious alien, but biology forced his hand. “Ahem, er, d’you reckon there’s a toilet for ... em ...?”

The Doctor froze and looked up at him, his face serious. Again, Wilf took a step back, but the Doctor’s intensity came from guilt, not anger. Of course he needed a bathroom. And how long has it been since they’ve been together? At least two days, and he also hadn’t taken a bite.

“The bathroom is over there,” he said, pointing to a dark portico just beyond the heart of the TARDIS. And I’ll take to the kitchen when you get back.”

His eyes followed as the old man nearly ran to the facilities. He felt so … thoughtless. It was Donna who insisted the TARDIS have a toilet available nearby, and not 5 right turns, 2 left turns, and a stairwell away. The edges of his mouth twitched.

“You say you’ve been around humans for ages, but you act like you have no idea about their little foibles, do you?” she said, hands on her hips. “The kitchen’s a hour’s walk away! I hardly want to go on a bloody hike to get my morning cuppa.”

He smiled. Her voice echoed in his brain, brassy and beautiful.

“It’s an adventure. You can discover all the hidden rooms along the way,” the Doctor whispered, and remembered Donna’s rolling eyes.

“A hike. An adventure. Imagine all that nonsense just to get some beans on toast,” she said, and stomped off, to his delight.

He missed her. And having Wilf around was only pricking the old wound.

Wilf came out, his face relaxed. “Thanks, Doctor. I thought I’d have to ask whether there was a rest stop in the Milky Way,” he said, smiling.

“Are you hungry?” the Doctor said, wiping his hands on the end of his coat and standing up.

“I could do with a proper tea,” he said, nodding. “A bit of beans on toast.”

His hearts hurt.

“Follow me,” the Doctor said, and went down the stairs and into a wide hallway.

“I swear I’ve been poking around the control room for hours, and I didn’t see,” Wilf said, looking around in wonder.

“She knows where I want to go, so she makes the crooked ways straight,” the Doctor said, walking fast in front of him. He took a sudden left turn, and his coat snapped smartly behind him. Wilf had to jog to keep up, but he didn’t mind. He was in an alien spaceship, about to eat in an alien kitchen. He wondered whether they called it something else. Did they have those crazy machines that made food out of thin air, like in the sci-fi shows on telly? Was it gonna be exotic, or weird and wonderful-

They turned again, and the Doctor stopped.

“Blimey,” Wilf said, scratching his head. The Doctor smiled. It wasn’t a weird and exotic room. In fact, it looked exactly like their kitchen back home.

“Donna set it up like she wanted,” the Doctor said, and plopped down in an overstuffed chair with green polka dots.

“Did she just?” Wilf said. “I wonder-” he walked to the cabinet by the refrigerator and opened it. He laughed. “Ha! Baked beans!” It was exactly where they kept their canned goods at home. He looked around at the spacious counters, and spied the bread box. There was a bag of bread in, and not the horrible whole wheat dross his daughter usually bought. It was the plain ol’ white pan bread that he and Donna preferred.

The Doctor watched him navigate the kitchen familiarly, getting a pot to warm the beans, and fetching the cheese from the icebox. He stared in it, and grabbed a packet of raspberries, Donna’s favorite.

“When’s the last time you stocked the icebox?” Wilf said. The raspberries were in perfect condition, although Donna had been back for ages.

“I assure you, they’re perfectly good, as is everything else in there,” the Doctor said, standing and popping one in his mouth. He loved them too. What a funky little fruit – both tender and crunchy with seeds.

“But, how?” Wilf said, closing the icebox and turning on the stove.

“Time stops in the icebox,” the Doctor said simply, as if it wasn’t the strangest concept Wilf had ever heard until that moment.

“What did you say?”

“When you put something in the icebox, it’s as if you’re suspending it in time. It’s a great way to preserve leftovers, I’ll tell you that,” he said, eating another raspberry.

“So … those berries could’ve been in there since...”

“I think they were here since before my regeneration,” the Doctor said, grabbing the whole packet and sitting back down. “They taste like the 80’s.”

Wilf looked at the bag of bread. “And this?”

The Doctor furrowed his brow. “No, that’s all Donna. She loved her buttered toast.”

The beans bubbled on the fob as he popped two slices of bread in the toaster.

“And what do you eat?” Wilf said.

“My metabolism’s different, so I don’t need to eat like you,” he said, his mouth still pink with raspberry juice. “But I could eat like you. I love a good English breakfast. Eggs and bacon and a cheeky sausage? It’s the best,” he said, patting his flat belly. “Especially after a good sleep.”

“But I suppose you don’t do much of that either,” Wilf said, looking at him curiously. It had been two days, and the alien had not stopped.

“Nah,” the Doctor said, tipping his head to the side. “But it’s lovely sometimes. Helps pass the time,” he said, and polished off the last raspberry. He bounded up and stared into the pot. “Tea up soon?”

“You’d like some? I’ll toast more bread,” Wilf said, smiling.

“Might as well,” the Doctor said, giving him his first smile. “It’s dreadful eating alone.”

Wilf burst into laughter. “You know it! So does my Donna!”

The Doctor took off his coat and hung it up in the hook by the door. He wore his usual dusty brown suit. He sat at the table as Wilf buttered toast at the counter. He loved the sound of buttering toast – that  delicious bready grindgrindgrind as you work the butter deep into the bread, and way it melts and gleams temptingly on the uneven brown surface, softening it just slightly. He especially loved dipping it in a milky tea, and seeing the butter form glass bubbles on the surface…

Tea!

“I’m make us a cuppa,” the Doctor said, jogging to the cupboard where Donna kept the teabags. “It’s a miraculous thing, tea. Real brain food.”

“I agree. Morning’s not the same without one – or a couple,” Wilf said, spooning the steaming beans on a piece of toast with a couple thick slices of cheddar on them. “D’you take cheese?”

“Nah,” the Doctor said. “Just butter. Loads of butter,” he said, looking over the old man’s shoulder as the kettle started to boil on the fob. Wilf spread a generous knob on a piece of toast, and the Doctor’s left eyebrow rose as he was about to put down the knife.

“You want more?” Wilf said, refraining from a chuckle.

“Yes! It should be butter on toast, not toast with butter,” the Doctor said, rolling back on his heels. “Don’t be shy, man. I’ll work it off.”

“That you will, boy,” Wilf said, and buttered until creamy pools of the stuff formed on the craggy surface of the bread. The kettle screamed, and the Doctor jumped into action, grabbing cups and teabags and milk and sugar and cream and lemon-

Did he take lemon in his tea? He couldn’t remember. It was nice to have, just in case.

He put it all at the table and waited for Wilf to bring them their banquet. Wilf placed a steaming plate in front of him.

“There ye go, boy-er, Doctor. Tuck in,” he said, and sat opposite him.

“I’ll do the tea,” the Doctor said, pouring the steaming water into the large, apple-red cups. They waited a few beats as the water swirled amber around the teabags, then began to prepare it how they like. The Doctor added everything at the table. He hadn’t eaten in ages, and he was suddenly ravenous. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a cuppa. Perhaps a few days. Maybe 3000 years. Who knew.

Wilf watched him manically pour and squeeze and stir in silence as he ate. He was so young. A looker, to be honest. He wondered whether Donna ever thought so too. There was no way to ask now, anyway. The Doctor slurped loudly at his ridiculous cuppa, then started in on the toast. He ate like a teenager, barely chewing. He inhaled the plate, and looked hopefully at Wilf’s.

Wilf pushed the half eaten plate across the table.

“Ta,” the Doctor said, and ate. Wilf waited patiently, and kept his face neutral as the Doctor finished every bit, then licked both plates.

“Hit the spot, did it?” the old man said.

“Didn’t think I liked cheese,” the Doctor said frowning pensively. “But I think I do. Good stuff.”

Wilf sipped the warm tea. “Now that me belly’s not rumbling, it got me to thinking,” Wilf said.

“What about?” the Doctor said, slinging his long legs over the arm of his chair.

“This place – all the stories – you are extraordinary. It’s like a dream, but it’s real. A ship with endless dimensions, and fully fitted kitchen-”

“You should see the bathing pools,” the Doctor interrupted. “One of them has tiny, carnivorous fennic fish – they eat dead skin, so when you get in they tickle you, and you come out gleaming,” he said with a grin. Martha thought it was a laugh-” the light suddenly went out from his eyes, and he seemed to deflate into the chair.

“Doctor,” Wilf said. He waited for him to come back into himself.

“Yes?” the alien said.

“How could Donna forget the unforgettable? I could live a thousand years and not forget even this. Sitting with you here, in this magic box, eating beans on toast. Not in a million years.”

The Doctor’s jaw muscles tightened, and his brown eyes twitched with emotion. He leaned forward and fiddled with the teacup. Then, surprisingly, he reached over and pressed his fingertips into Wilf’s temples. His touch was gentle, and his fingertips were still hot from holding the cup.

Wilf remained still. His long, pale fingers looked so human. Masculine. He wondered whether it was just a façade, like some of the sci-fi shows. Maybe he looked strange and wonderful, and his spiky hair and long, lean form was just an image he projected into his brain-

“It’s not a projected image,” the Doctor said, shaking his head. He withdrew, and stared at his hands. “I really look this way. Now. It might be a thousand years or a day, and I will look different.”

Wilf’s heart was going triple time. “You can read minds?” he said, stuffing his knit cap onto his head, seemingly for protection. The Doctor chuckled.

“A little. Well, yes. But I haven’t been able to read psyonic waves through thin air for a number of regenerations, so you don’t won’t be needing the hat,” he said, pulling it off and handing it to him.

“Oh. Right then,” he said, flushing.

“Psyonic waves?” Wilf said.

“For human beings and many, many other species, consciousness isn’t quite what it feels like. In its essence, your thoughts are electrical impulses shooting off in your brain. And not only that. Emotions. Memories. It’s all stored in your biological computer, and sadly, can be manipulated.”

Wilf nodded slowly. “Biological computer. It makes sense,” he said.

“I don’t mean to diminish the vast and wonderful twists and turns of human consciousness and their capacity for being absolutely brilliant, but … it is what it is.”

“Yeh,” the old man said.

“When I realized Donna was in danger, I simply … deleted certain things from her biological computer. For her safety ... as well as her sanity,” he said haltingly. He felt like he was confessing a crime. He didn’t mention certain protection protocols he might’ve added to her DNA, but the old man didn’t need to know everything.

“Deleted?” he repeated, nodding. “Did it hurt?”

“Only for a nanosecond. A bright burst, and she was safe,” he said, swallowing hard. He missed her sarcastic mouth and her endlessly kind heart. He was so dreadfully, tragically lonely. He had nothing but the beans and toast in his belly and a grim outlook of his immediate future. She would make him feel better by teasing him about his moping. She would poke at him and laugh her laugh and convince him to go on a visit to M’adelixis 7, where they had the best cream floats in the galaxy, and all would be well for a while.

But he didn’t have it. He didn’t have her. And he was tired, no, absolutely exhausted of losing.

“You’re shaking, Doctor,” Wilf said, putting his hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the Doctor said abruptly, and shook his hand off. He wouldn’t be able to hold it together if this man, with the echo of Donna’s cornflower blue eyes, kept giving him a sympathetic look.

“So, just a quick touch and everything’s gone,” Wilf said as he tidied up. He gave the Doctor a sidelong glance. “You didn’t mess about with anything earlier?” He nearly dropped a teacup. The thought hadn’t occurred to him, but-

“No,” the Doctor said. “And I didn’t see much. Just that thought about the aliens on television,” he said, giving him a crooked grin. Wilf walked up to him and took his hand in his.

“Lookit that,” he said, studying the Doctor’s large hands. “Just a touch is all it took.”

The Doctor gently stepped back and put his hands in his pocket. Wilf went back to washing up.

“Doctor?” he said softly.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Donna trusted you, so I trust you. But I don’t need to forget any more than I already have,” he said. “I’m old, and and I live on memories.” He wiped his hands with a tea towel and slung it over his shoulder. “You felt Donna needed to forget, and she has. She’s happy now, and I’m grateful to you. But I don’t wanna forget. Don’t make me forget,” Wilf said, and his eyes gleamed with tears.

“Don’t you worry, old man,” he said, patting his shoulder. “If Donna trusted you, I do too. You won’t say a word about all you’ve seen, will you?”

“Now’t,” Wilf said, shaking his head vigorously. “But what a story I won’t tell. An alien in a box that travels through time! What a yarn.”

“Good,” the Doctor said, kicking the floor with his scuffed sneakers and smiling wistfully. “Good man.”

[renee-writer]

Shamrock to a Thistle Chapter 9 A Full Day

After Jamie and I's first date, my life got busy. It has been a few weeks with me only seeing Jamie around ten minutes a day when he brought coffee.

One day, I am leaning against the desk, charting, when he comes up. He smiles at me and hands me the cuppa.

“Thank you.”

“Claire, when is your next full day off?”

“Wednesday, why?”

“I want to take you out for a full day. Just you and me.” I have missed him but a full day? He watches me, his blue eyes under his lowered red eyelashes, full of hope. Take a chance, Claire, I tell myself.

“Yes I will.”

“Great.”

“Where are we going?”

“You will see.” He squeezes my hand and turns to leave.

“Did you know about this?” I ask Cully, who stands beside me, sipping her coffee. She shrugs and picks up another chart. I do the same.

Later that night, at home, I sit by the window, lost in thought.

“Lexy love, what is on your mind?” my mum asks.

“Jamie. He asks me out for the day, Wednesday.”

“And you said?”

“Yes. I like him. I like him a lot.”

“Good. You know your dad will want to talk to him?”

“Mum!”

“She is right. I will.” My dad joins us.

“Dad, you will be nice?” He just smiles.

“Mum please.”

“Don't worry. He will be as nice as he needs to be.”

“That is what I worry about.”

When Jamie comes in the next day, I tell him. “My dad wants to speak to you before we leave tomorrow.” I watch his white face get whiter. ”Jamie?”

“It is okay.” We hear Cully snickering behind us.

“My poor baby brother having to face a dad for the first time.” I turn and glare at her. “It will be okay, Jamie.” She walks off, chuckling.

“Jamie, I hope you understand why he is so protective.”

“I do. I would feel the same if I had a lass as beautiful as ye to protect.” He strokes his finger down my cheek. I loss my power of thought, for a moment.

“Ah, when will you be picking me up?”

“Weel, since I am to have a conversation with yer dad say 9:30?”

“That works.”

“See ye then.” He squeezes my hand and is gone.

Wednesday morning finds me standing amidst a pile of discarded clothes, in just my knickers and bra. If I had some idea where we are going, it would help. It is nearing 9:30 and I have no idea what to wear.

My mum comes in. “Lexy, you must get dressed. Jamie is downstairs.”

“Oh God. Is dad grilling him?”

“He is being your father.”

“Oh God!”

“Don't panic. Jeans and a comfy t will do. Jamie wears the same.” That did help. I pull on a pair of jeans and my favorite pink t-shirt. My hair hangs free. I slip on socks and sneakers. I am ready and head down to rescue my date.

He sits on the couch, hands clasped in front of him, as white as a corpse. He is answering. Yes sir. No sir. I understand sir. It is enough. I enter.

“Enough dad. We are going.” I take Jamie's hand and lift him up. His hand shakes in mine.

“It was nice to meet ye Mr. O'Leary.” My dad shakes his hand. “Mrs. O’Leary.” He nods to my mum.

“Have fun you two.” She says.

“But not much.” My dad adds.

“Oh Christ.” I mumble. Jamie opens the car door and helps me in. He enters himself and sits for a minute.

“How bad was it?”

“Weel, he made it clear that if I hurt ye, they wouldn’t find my body.”

“I am sorry.”

“I am not. I am verra glad yer da is sae protective. Ye deserve naught less and, since I intend nae harm to come to ye or allow any as long as ye are with me, I am nae concerned.”

We drive for awhile. We sing along to the songs on the radio. Jamie, tune death but enthusiastic. Finally, we pull over beside a beautiful field.

“I've a picnic in the boot. I wanted to take ye somewhere private sae we could spend time together and get to know each other more. Nae alcohol.”

“Perfect.” He escorts me out and opens the boot. He removes a tarden of beautiful red and green.

“My family colors.” He explains as he lays it out. It is followed by an actual picnic basket. “My mam's. I borrowed it for the day.

I sit across from him. He serves grapes, bread, cheese, and sausage. The food is delicious. The conversation even more so. He tells me about growing up on a working farm. I tell him of accompanying my mum to births from the age of ten or so.

“Sae, that is why ye are a doctor?”

“Yes, The ability to heal, to be there at the moment of birth, of death, it seemed and seems such a gift. You never thought about taken over the farm?”

“For only half a moment. Nae, I love to visit. But, I'm not a farmer. I love my wee shop. I love my customers. Love everything about it.”

“That it is yours.”

“Aye. That it is mine.”

“Jamie, would you dance with me?” He grins, stands up, and turns the car radio on. He takes me in his arms and spins me around . I laugh before he pulls me tight. The laughter dies as we sway, heartbeat to heartbeat, in the edge of the field.

His hands mold to my back, mine are buried in the soft hair that hits his neck. My head rests on his chest and I feel his heart speed up. My own echoes it. I crave breath stealing kisses, and more. But, it is far to soon and he doesn’t know. So, I settle for close dancing.

I can’t tell how long we danced, as one song faded into another. Time didn't matter. The feel of our bodies as close as they could be clothed, does. The way his curls curl around my fingers, the way his hands cover my back, the way I fit perfectly against his chest., these matters.

If the fickle Scottish weather hadn't decided to change, going from sunny to raining, in a heartbeat( or so it seemed), we may not have stopped until dark fell.

“Iffrin!” Jamie cursed as he hurries me to his car before gathering up the picnic supplies. He is fairly soaked when he joins me.

“Jamie, are you okay.

“Oih aye. Scots are used to being wet. Are ye?”

“I am barely touched thanks to your quick response.”

“Good. Weel, I was going to take ye out to dinner but, will take away in the car do?”

“Perfectly Jamie.”

We end up eating MacDonald’s as we watch the storm howl around us. Quite romantic.

[ihaveabagofbees]

My time has come. My cooking is what I like to call 'fuck it' cooking. This got longer than I expected, but I can't condense things for shit.

I also can't have dairy (besides butter, since it's mostly milkfat) and have been gluten free for a while. On top of that I can't have onions or garlic which cuts out most frozen gluten free options. It also cuts out pretty much every chip, popcorn, and cracker option besides the most plain options. Additionally, I can't have any beans or legumes which...is fun. My protein options are nuts, seeds, and meat because eggs are also out. My immune and digestive system have had a long string being Jim Carrey's Grinch just "Hate, hate, hate, double hate, LOATHE ENTIRELY."

Now, to further complicate things, I have a very hard time following recipes. So I don't (I get help with baking). And to complicate things even further, I don't have great teeth, so harder foods, such as tortilla chips, are not an option for me.

I keep a list of gf carbs on hand:

grits/polenta (Bob's Red Mill is fantastic, some brands are also heavy on iron content, so look out for that)

Rolled oats

GF Pasta

Rice

Instant Mashed Potatoes, the plain kind in a box. (Honestly don't get the bad press these get, they're fantastic)

Corn tortillas (I use these in place of basically all breads)

Now, we have to get into protein, because, like I said before, my protein options are very limited.

Certain frozen breakfast sausages fit my needs perfectly. Applegate is a long time fave, even though it's a bit pricy. Jimmy Dean is also an option, though it does contain soy so eating them is a gamble for me. I only eat two of these per day, so I can budget it.

Pumpkin seeds, people sleep on seeds in general, but many are nutritional powerhouses, with pumpkin seeds (and pumpkin seed butter) having a higher protein amount than all other nuts and seeds (and nut and seed butters). Sunflower seeds are also great. Pumpkin seed butter, while expensive, has a more mild flavor than sunbutter and can be mixed into a variety of dishes for an additional burst of nutrition for literally no effort outside of scooping and stirring it in. Sunbutter is my go to peanut butter replacement for all dishes that sound good with peanut butter.

Yeah, that's it for protein, outside what I can scrounge from non-protein heavy sources, like instant mash has 2g of protein.

My fat options are butter, coconut oil, and olive oil. Mostly butter and olive oil. Coconut oil expensive.

I take a carb, and either one or both of the protein options, toss in some vegan cheese, some extra fat, as well as a fuck ton of spices and dig in. Just fucking throw shit together and see what happens. There's no rules to cooking, outside "don't undercook shit that can make you sick".

Now, the prime part of my diet, the shit that has kept my alive, snacks.

Enjoy life is a saving grace, is it expensive? Yes. Is it the only brand I can consistently eat without having to worry about a hospital visit that's available at my grocery store? Also yes. Their chocolate chips are great. I also love their brownie bites, especially the salted caramel. Chef's kiss.

Chocolate milk*

Pumpkin seeds, electric boogaloo. They good snacks, too. If you've got the energy, you can toss them with some oil, some pumpkin pie spice, and bake that shit at 350F until shit's toasty, there's probably a better recipe for it online, but that shit will keep for a bit and is a great snack. Seeds are also great because if they're shelled, they're actually pretty soft.

Walnuts, love walnuts. They're just soft enough that my teeth are okay with them.

Whole almonds can fuck off, though. Hard ass fucking nuts. ANYWAY.

Now you might be asking, what about vegetables? What about fruit? My answer to that is a bitch is trying. I do like getting either frozen or canned (sodium free/low sodium) carrots, and then heating them up, mashing them, and adding them to like rice.

I also like bananas, but I live in Texas so during late spring to early fall (or whenever the fuck it decides to cool off) bananas go from green to brown in like two/three days. They go from underripe to banana bread if you so much as look at them wrong. I do have unsweetened applesauce, though. Love that shit.

Transition to chocolate milk talk line break.

*SO, I have a very interesting way of making chocolate milk, in that I have two ways of making it, because I like drinking it with cinnamon.

Medium energy: Make a small bit of cinnamon tea, mix in some cocoa powder/melt chocolate chips in (if I have the patience and desire) and maple syrup (while it's still on the stove), and then slowly mix in some oat milk after taking it off the stove, which should make it lukewarm.

Low energy, slightly feral, option: Dump chocolate syrup, cinnamon (yes ground), and maybe a bit of maple syrup into a cup, dump in some oat milk, stir vigorously, drink. Does the cinnamon mix in well? Not at all. I love it, though.

gluten & dairy intolerant and sick as shit: a “what the fuck do i eat?” primer

most gluten-free, dairy-free (hereafter abbreviated gf/df) recipe sites are so clearly written by people who have the energy to cook - consistently enough that they don’t need to worry about food spoiling - and money for tons of ingredients and equipment. as a person who’s bedridden a large portion of the time, this is useless as shit!

so here’s how i’ve kept myself alive the past 6+ months for other sick folks looking for a realistic starting point, in descending order from least to most energy required. in addition to being gf/df, i can’t eat raw vegetables or red meat, need to avoid/minimize seeds and artificial sweeteners, and try to minimize soy when possible, so these suggestions align with that.

as always, check the labels first! other folks feel free to add on with any suggestions!

meals

gf cereal - chocolate gf off-brand rice krispies are a go-to low-energy meal that can also be a snack

bananas with peanut butter

rice cakes are my best friend - they’re like 4x cheaper than gf bread and the easiest option i’ve found so far. my go-to is rice cake, vegan cheese, 4 slices of deli chicken, a pinch of salt; 4 of those makes a filling meal for me

gf toast with peanut butter or butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar

gf oatmeal in the microwave, seasoned with brown sugar and cinnamon. if you need to avoid cross-contamination, make sure to only purchase oat products that are certified gluten-free; they can easily get cross-contaminated from wheat in the field

tofu scramble - season with curry powder, garlic and onion powder, chili powder, and salt. add whatever veggies you want - i do (frozen or canned) spinach, mushrooms, and tomatoes

gf chicken nuggets - if i have a little extra energy i’ll make a vegan ranch using a vegan mayo base

gf/df pizza - they’re expensive. i’m sorry.

gf/df nachos - vegan mince with gf taco seasoning, olives, vegan cheese, corn tortillas chips. for a lower-energy version, i melt vegan cheese on tortilla chips in the microwave and add torn-up deli chicken and seasoning

frozen gf fries - plain or with vegan cheese sauce, vegan cheese, and/or vegan mince (seasoned with garlic powder, chili powder, paprika, and salt)

rice with ingredient - canned beans and/or peas; canned tuna cooked with curry powder; frozen edamame and canned salmon cooked with gf (tamari) soy sauce, honey, and chili powder

fish tacos - frozen fish cooked with cumin, paprika, chili powder, salt, pepper; cilantro-lime rice; avocado if you’re up for peeling/cutting; vegan cheese; corn tortillas

snacks

pre-popped popcorn

tortilla chips

gf/df cookies

gf/df chips (crisps) - in the UK, Seabrook is a great gf brand, and the classic ones are df as well

gf/df protein or granola bars

gf/df ice cream

tangerines, clementines, etc - they last longer than other fruits

[josephinebardot]

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO DINING ON A CRUISE WITH KIDS

The best part of a family vacation is all the new experiences you share together. But sometimes that same excitement doesn’t apply to mealtime, where new foods can be a challenge for the littlest travelers. At the Dolphin cruise in St Pete Beach FL, there are so many choices for delicious dining that every meal can be easy — even with a picky eater in tow. 

WINDJAMMER

When you’re on vacation with your family, it can be tough to find a casual, no-fuss restaurant that caters to everyone in the group. Windjammer is the perfect spot for just that. Every cruise ship in the fleet has one, and they all offer complimentary breakfast, lunch and dinner in a laid back self-serve buffet-style setting kids love.

In the mornings, you’ll find stations heaped with traditional breakfast options like eggs, bacon, yogurt, fresh fruit and cereal, plus dishes from around the world, like Italian rope sausage, sugar-dusted Berliners, and southern-style fried chicken and waffles.

On some ships, there’s even a made-to-order omelet station. There is also plenty of choices for the little ones, including traditional pancakes and waffles.

THE MAIN DINING ROOM

Like Windjammer, the Main Dining Room is another fleetwide complimentary dining option that serves breakfast, lunch and dinner with lots of variety to choose from.

While most cruises host a formal night that allows guests the option to get glammed up, the usual attire when having dinner in the Main Dining Room is resort casual — that means sun dresses, nice slacks, blouses and collared shirts. Breakfast and lunch allow for more relaxed attire.

With its sophisticated décor and personalized wait service, the atmosphere in the Main Dining Room is more upscale than the casual vibes you’ll experience at Windjammer, but it’s still a family-friendly dining option for anyone traveling with small kids.

Breakfast and lunch in the Main Dining Room both offer the choice between a self-serve buffet of classic hot and cold dishes and à la carte menu items.

The dinner menu features a rotating assortment of global selections and classic staples that don’t change, all of which are completely customizable to suit your preferences or dietary needs. And for little ones, a kids’ menu highlights easy-to-eat comfort foods like chicken tenders, burgers, pizza, spaghetti and more.

BEST BITES WHEN YOU’RE ON-THE-GO

CAFÉ PROMENADE

Café Promenade is another casual complimentary option available on all Oasis Class ships, as well as Quantum, Freedom and Voyager Class ships. Open 24 hours every day, it steals the title of ‘most convenient’ snack-spot onboard. Whether you feel like indulging in breakfast pastries with your morning cup of coffee, light sandwiches at lunch, a sweet treat or a glass of your go-to wine, you can count on Café Promenade to cater to every craving, no matter what time of day.

JOHNNY ROCKETS

At Johnny Rockets, you can treat yourself and your little ones to rich handspun milkshakes, perfectly grilled burgers, and crispy golden waffle fries served with an extra dose of quintessential Americana.

This iconic retro-inspired diner is the perfect place to stop in with the kids for a quick bite and a side of nostalgia. Johnny Rockets has a modest cover charge for lunch and dinner, and offers complimentary breakfast on Allure, Harmony, Oasis and Symphony of the Seas.

SORRENTO'S

Sometimes, nothing beats the classic simplicity of a well-made pizza — and that’s exactly what you’ll find at Sorrento’s. This popular onboard eatery elevates every slice to delicious new heights. Baked in a stone oven and topped with the freshest ingredients, the pies at Sorrento’s hit the spot whether you’re stopping by for a quick snack with your little ones in between onboard thrills, or satisfying late-night cravings after an evening spent dancing at Boleros or Club Twenty while the kids are having a blast at Adventure Ocean.

And while pizza is certainly the star attraction at Sorrento’s, you’ll also find a variety of antipasti, salads and desserts — all complimentary, of course.

PARK CAFÉ

All Oasis Class ships have a complimentary Park Café — you’ll also find it on some Radiance and Vision Class ships. In the mornings, Park Café serves cereal, sweet treats and some hot dishes. It’s also the only restaurant onboard with a full bagel station. But the real star of the show at Park Cafe is the legendary Kummelweck.

Featuring two slices of roast beef, slow roasted for 12 hours and placed on a fresh baked roll, this lunchtime sandwich has become something of a fan favorite. The restaurant also serves healthy made-to-order salads, fresh-pressed panini and deli classics.

DOG HOUSE

If you think this is your average hot dog stand, think again. A favorite among cruisers, The Dog House is all about making lip-smacking gourmet sausages packed with flavor and inspired by different places around the world — like “The Sicilian,” made with pork, garlic, oregano and Italian spices in a parmesan and cheddar baguette, “The Big Apple,” a chicken sausage blended with juicy bits of apple, and the bestselling “Wünderdog,” made in the traditional Austrian style with 100% delicate veal.

This quick and easy casual spot available on selected ships is a favorite grab-and-go dining option that’s popular among little kids, teenagers and adults. Dog House serves up specialty hot dogs and sides like sauerkraut, sautéed onions and potato salad every day for lunch and dinner, and it’s all included in your cruise fare.

EL LOCO FRESH

As far as grab-and-go dining options are concerned, El Loco Fresh is a proven hit among kids. True to its name, the all-new El Loco Fresh serves up insanely delicious Mexican fare like savory beef burritos, flavor-filled fish tacos, tasty carnitas and cheesy quesadillas — not to mention classic mole sauce, creamy and refreshing guacamole and a salsa bar that caters to all levels of spice lovers.

Open daily for lunch on Symphony and Navigator of the Seas, El Loco Fresh is a great complimentary option for explorers of all ages.

FAVORITES THE WHOLE FAMILY WILL LOVE

PLAYMAKERS SPORTS BAR & ARCADE

Playmakers Sports Bar & Arcade doesn’t just deliver on delicious food kids will love — it also offers endless hours of entertainment for adventurers in every age group. The à la carte menu spotlights game day classics like buffalo wings, sliders and the signature Playmakers Burger, which adults can pair with icy cold domestic and international drafts.

Kid-friendly options off the Pee Wee menu include cornflake-breaded chicken tenders and a juicy all-beef Home Run Hamburger that’s the perfect size for little hands and smaller appetites.

For dessert, kids can dig in to the Campfire Cookie — a warm homemade chocolate chip delight topped with gooey melted marshmallow and rich Nutella — or the massive perfect-for-sharing Touchdown Sundae, served in a mini football helmet. Once you and your squad are done chowing down, the whole family can get their game on in the arcade with a round of Skee-ball, Connect 4, Ms. Pacman or Super Mario Racing — the list goes on.

ITALIAN FAVES: JAMIE’S ITALIAN BY JAMIE OLIVER AND GIOVANNI’S KITCHEN

If you’re in the mood for homemade flavors inspired by the Mediterranean, it doesn’t get better than the two Italian dining concepts Royal Caribbean has brought to life onboard: Jamie’s Italian by Jamie Oliver and Giovanni’s Table.

Helmed by one of Britain’s most famous celebrity chefs, Jamie’s Italian serves Tuscan-inspired dishes on Harmony and Symphony of the Seas, the Royal Amplified Mariner and Navigator of the Seas, and Quantum Class ships, while Giovanni’s Table spotlights rustic trattoria-style classics on Oasis and Allure of the Seas, all Voyager and Radiance Class ships, plus several others across the fleet.

Both are smart casual specialty restaurants that offer hearty Italian comfort food like lasagna, bruschetta and homemade focaccia, antipasti and salads, and a delicious selection of pasta often served family-style so that it’s perfect for sharing.

If you’re dining with a group at Jamie’s Italian, you should definitely order the Famous Plank — a shareable app loaded with cured meats, artisanal cheeses and tart pickles.

A SWEET BONUS ON SYMPHONY OF THE SEAS

SUGAR BEACH

If you happen to be cruising onboard Symphony of the Seas or the newly amplified Navigator of the Seas and you have a sweet tooth, you’ll definitely want to check out Sugar Beach on the Boardwalk. Stocked from floor to ceiling with all kinds of creative confections and indulgent ice creams, this new addition to the Royal Caribbean roster of edible delights is a can’t miss stop for a decadent pick-me-up.

In this colorful candy oasis, both children and adults can treat themselves to tasty sweets priced by the ounce or per piece. The shop also regularly hosts family-friendly activities, like cupcake decorating classes.

[rabbitcruiser]

Something On A Stick Day

Something On A Stick Day is an annual fun feast celebrated on March 28. Well, something on a stick simply refers to the food items that make use of the sticks. Ice Pops, Fudgecicles, Lollipops, Cotton Candy are the few things that anyone reminisces when it comes to something on a stick. Most people like me will love to eat foods served on the sticks as it doesn’t prompt you to use your fingers to mess up with things. So eating something on a stick is really a fun and easy activity. Something On A Stick Day encourages you to eat those delicious foods or snack that uses the stick. As there aren’t so many food items that make use of the stick, this Day encourages you to be little creative and try out making sweet or spicy easy-to-eat dishes on a stick.

“Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people get together to eat.” – Guy Fieri

History of Something On A Stick Day

The origin and the history of the Something On A Stick Day are not known. The creator, this specific date and the year from when this Day has been in the celebration are also anonymous. It might be someone who loves eating the stick food has come up with a such a fun celebration. Let it be a sweet or savvy, the day celebrates all the food items that come with a stick in it. However, there some exceptions to which stick usage is hardly impossible like soup, juice, etc. Snacks and the road-side foods are served on a stick or a skewer in many cultures. The Day encourages all of us to get into the mood of creativity and try to make delicious food combo or snacks that fit on a stick. Once if you start, there are endless possibilities. Foodie lovers can keep your hands clean by picking up the end of the stick to eat different food items.

Food on the stick is considered to be one of the world’s most excellent inventions. Perhaps, the food you eat from a stick is fun and easy to eat. There are lots of recipes available globally that traditionally makes use of the stick and it may range from the breakfast to dinner with so many different flavoured combinations. Something On A Stick sweet food varieties includes toffee apple, lollipop, popsicles, fudgecicles, ice cream bar, frozen chocolate-covered bananas, caramel apples, cupcake pops and more. The spicy variants like the corn dog, hotdogs, kebabs, camp-fire sausage, chicken balls, cheese cubes on a toothpick, grilled veggies and meat and the list go on. Be it a fresh or healthy or breaded and deep-fried food, the menu choices to which the stick can be used are broad.

How to celebrate the Something On A Stick Day

Celebrating the Something on a Stick Day is quite simple and easy. Make sure you whatever you eat on this Day has a stick on it. You are restricted from using your hands strictly if you want to the celebration a grand success. Find new ways and foods that fit on the stick which needs your creative thinking. Try making your own kind of stick food to indulge yourself with more of fun. You can buy lollipops, and ice pops for your children to make them celebrate this joyful Day. Those who can afford for a Something On A Stick Day party can organize it by inviting your family and friends. Ensure you serve them foods with a stick and make them not to use their hands for that dinner. You can even conduct competitions to see who has eaten the foods that are served on the stick perfectly and award the winners.

Source

[travelcenter-uk]

What’s the most iconic food around the world? Let’s find out!

“Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people eat together.”

– GUY FIERI –

What is the most iconic food around the world? The world is a gastronomic paradise; it harbours diverse culinary uniqueness in each corner. How many cuisines contribute to describing a particular destination and what would a local suggest to taste or where to find it?

If you look a little closer, you’ll soon learn that the best dishes in the world can be an up-close lens on the destination’s history and culture. Despite their ancient origins, the dishes have been modernised for the palates of today’s world.

Different food from around the world

Every foodie enjoys tasting their way around the world by indulging in traditional cuisines, by trying a new flavour for the first time or getting to enjoy an iconic dish they’ve heard about. We learn about different cuisines by tasting the most popular signature dishes and staple ingredients of each country.

A culinary journey across the globe is the best way to discover its culture and cuisine. This makes it the pure delight of culinary travel.

What’s even better than eating the best food in the world? You get to have a new food experience and enjoy another new dish. So, let’s take a look at the most iconic food from around the world. These are 10 different nations with their famous and traditional dishes, starting in the UK!

Warning: This list of food from around the world will make you hungry!

British Cuisine

Yes, one can’t really talk about Britain without mentioning one of the most well-known and distinct cultures on Earth: the British culture. With its own dialects, customs, art, literature and history; it is easy to see why many consider it to be one of the richest cultures in existence.

Britain has a wide variety of cuisine and holds an excellent culinary reputation. In fact, these dishes are some of the best food from around the world. However, culinary expertise in the UK is not new. Moreover, Influenced by the Romans, Anglo-Saxons, French and even other parts of Europe: In essence, a hodgepodge of diverse styles and traditions.

Fish and Chips – Fish and Chips are presumably the most popular British food known across the globe.

English Breakfast – English breakfast is served with bacon, sausages, egg, baked beans, black pudding, fried toast, hash browns, mushrooms, and egg. Best enjoyed with a cuppa or fruit juice.

Roast Dinner – A traditional roast dinner consists of different roasted meats like chicken breast, turkey, pork, and beef. This is accompanied by seasonal vegetables, roasts, potatoes, and gravy.

Bangers and Mash – A famous British pub food. A dish comprising sausages, mash potatoes, and onion gravy.

Trifle – A strawberry flavoured classic British dessert made up of layers of cake rolls, custard, jelly, cream, and fruit toppings.

Italian Cuisine

My personal favourite, Italian cuisine, is one of the oldest, most beloved cuisines and considered some of the best food from around the world. With extraordinary diversity of flavours, richness and depth, offering something for everyone’s taste buds.

Italian food varies from region to region and associates with various kinds of pasta and pizza. In reality, Italian food is ever-changing, from endless combinations and new adaptations. What makes Italian food one of the best food from around the world is not just its flavours but also its diversity and also an Italian meal can be expected to be structured as follows: Antipasto (appetiser), primo (rice or pasta), second (meat), and dolce (dessert).

Pizza – Pizza is a flat dough topped with tomato sauce, mozzarella, and basil. (More toppings are added to create different variants of pizza)

Risotto – An Italian version of creamy rice cooked in vegetable or meat stock, cheese and wine after frying it in sautéed onions.

Lasagna  – Lasagna is traditional Italian comfort food made in pasta sheets, meat, sauce, and cheese.

Ossobuco alla Milanese – Ossobuco is slow-cooked veal in white wine, meat broth, and vegetables seasoned with lemon zest, garlic, and parsley.

Gelato – Gelato is a rich variant of ice cream in terms of density, texture and is more intense in flavour.

French Cuisine

Like Italian food, French cuisine was also one of the world’s first cuisines and has taken its flavours around the globe. Admittedly, French cuisine is an art, so rich in regional variations. The French take great pride in their traditions of cooking. The modern way of cooking takes a lot from roots in France, and for decades, French food has been an elegant cuisine. This ranges from sylvan, robust, and healthy to the finest meals. A typical French meal would consist of bread, cheese, and wine.

Boeuf Bourguignon – Boeuf Bourguignon, a classic French beef stew made with red wine, pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon.

Croque Monsieur – A sandwich is taken to the next level! Grilled ham and velvety béchamel cheese sauce sandwich.

Croissants – Croissants are crescent-shaped buttery, flaky pastries perfectly crisp on the outside, tender and moist on the inside.

Coq Au Vin – A version of red wine chicken stew, cooked on a low heat to perfection.

Cherry Clafoutis – A popular cherry dessert in France! Juicy, sweet cherries wrapped in a rich batter and baked into a mixture of a cake and custard.

Chinese Cuisine

Some of the best food in the world, Chinese cuisine has taken over many parts of the world by storm! I mean, I’m sure you’ve had a Chinese take-away meal at least once in your life. This particular cuisine classifies its regional diversity into different styles: Cantonese, Szechuan, Hunan, Zhejiang, Shandong, Anhui, and Fujian. Each food tradition is formed by the regions’ history, climate, geography, and lifestyle.

Sichuan Pork – Sichuan Pork is spicy poached slices of pork coated with egg-white and starch to preserve its freshness and tenderness.

Dumplings – Dumplings comprise a filling of minced meat and chopped vegetables wrapped in a thin dough skin.

Peking Roasted Duck – Peking duck is a duck roast savoured for its thin and crispy skin, a world-famous dish from Beijing.

Chow Mein – Chow mein is a stir-fried noodles dish consists of meat (chicken, beef, shrimp, or pork), onions, and celery.

Kung Pao Chicken – Kung Pao Chicken is a famous Sichuan-style dish made with diced chicken, dried chilli, and fried peanuts.

American Cuisine

The best way to explain American cuisine is that it is a blend of different cuisines. In other words, it is a mongrel, where different ethnic groups contributed to the nation’s food traditions. American cuisine has drastically changed over the years, as have American lifestyles.  Some of these dishes were contributed by Native Americans, Colonial Americans, and Modern Americans. These were adapted, changed, and invented, becoming all-American dishes. Similarly, many dishes are regionalised, such as soul food in the south, Tex-Mex cooking in Texas, etc.

Hot dogs – There is no need for a special introduction for the “All-American” hotdog, a hotdog (sausage) wedged between a bun.

Philly cheesesteak – A Philly cheesesteak is a sandwich made by grilling chopped beef, onions, and cheese then laid into a long Amoroso bun.

Grits – Grits is a creamy porridge-like dish made with whole dried white corn kernels that can go plain, savoury, or sweet.

Mexican flat enchiladas – Mexican or Tex-Mex style enchiladas smothered in red chilli sauce or green topped with an optional fried egg.

Apple pie – Apple pie is a sweet dish that features a sweet apple filling and a flaky butter crust with a shimmering lattice pie crust.

Indian Cuisine

It’s hard to put Indian cuisine in a nutshell because of the country’s regional diversity and vast history. The early Indian cuisine relied heavily on a class system which dictated what people were able to eat. However, in more recent times, the cuisine has been a combination of traditional dishes and many international influences. The most common misinterpretation about Indian food is that many of us think it’s all curries. But in reality, it isn’t. An essential factor of Indian cuisine is that the blends of spices are designed to bring out the ultimate flavour.

Murgh Makhani (Butter Chicken) – Murgh Makhani is by far one of the deliciously best dishes in the world. This hot dish made with chicken tastes great with flatbreads.

Rogan Josh (Red Lamb) – A delectable spicy dish, Rogan Josh, is a red lamb stew prepared with a long list of spices, red chillies, and coconut cream.

Palak Paneer (Spinach and Cottage Cheese) – A popular Indian dish Palak paneer, a mildly flavoured dish made with spinach and cottage cheese with Indian spices.

Naan (Indian Flatbread) – Naan, a flatbread traditionally cooked in a tandoor oven, goes with anything, including curries and stews.

Gulab Jamun – An Indian sweet delight, a festive favourite made with milk solids, fried until golden and doused in saffron induced sugar syrup.

Japanese Cuisine

Food in Japan is plausibly one of the unique cuisines. The reason being that many ingredients used in their cooking can very rarely be found in other cuisines. It’s not all about sushi and tofu. The art of Japanese cuisine is prepared meticulously based on the proper seasoning and fresh ingredients.

Sushi – Sushi is some of the best food from around the world. This traditional Japanese dish consists of vinegar-flavoured rice rolls served with vegetables and raw seafood.

Sashimi – Sashimi is similar to sushi, but raw fish is sliced into small bite-sized pieces without the rice.

Tempura – Tempura is a dish prepared with seafood, meat, and vegetables covered in flour and egg batter then deep-fried in oil.

Soba and Udon – Soba or buckwheat noodles and Udon or wheat noodles are made by immersing the noodles into broth enjoyed hot or cold.

Wagashi – Wagashi are traditional Japanese sweets made using mochi rice cakes, Anko paste, agar, chestnuts, and sugar.

Lebanese Cuisine

Cuisine in Lebanon food includes many fresh ingredients like vegetables, fruits, seafood, and little animal protein. These ingredients are meticulously prepared in a fusion of Mediterranean and Arabic influences. The most significant feature of this fantastic food is the mezze, a selection of salads, vegetable dips, pickles, and Arabic bread. In recent years, people have come to celebrate the extraordinary flavours of Lebanese food.

Baba Ghanoush – Baba Ghanoush is a hummus-like dip made from eggplant served with pita bread and drizzled with olive oil.

Manakeesh – The Lebanese version of pizza, Manakeesh, is made with meat, cheese, zaatar. Manakeesh is served with tomatoes, cucumbers, fresh mint leaves, and olives.

Falafel – Falafel is made from deep-fried crushed chickpeas, served in a pita pocket with vegetables and tahini sauce.

Fattoush – Fattoush is a traditional Lebanese salad.

Baklava – Baklava is a golden flakey pastry made of filo dough, honey, and assorted nuts.

South African Cuisine

South African cuisine is extensive, culturally diverse, nourishing, and hearty, very much like the locals. Traditional South African cuisine is downright authentic, with influences induced by each culture. With the freshest ingredients from farm to table, the food here is amazingly delectable, making it one of the best foods from around the world!

Chakalaka – Chakalaka is a spicy vegetarian dish of tomato, beans, peppers, onions, and curry. This can be enjoyed with anything — rice, meat, bread, or other veggies.

Bunny chow – Bunny chow is a world-renowned dish made up of a hollowed-out loaf of bread filled with a chicken, pork curry, or a lentil and bean combo.

Bobotie – Bobotie, made up of minced meat, is cooked in curry, herbs & spices, and dried fruit, topped with a milky-eggy custard, and baked until golden brown.

Potjiekos – A dish of potjiekos features meat, potatoes, biltong, and vegetables slowed cooked over an outdoor fire.

Malva Pudding – Malva Pudding is a sweet, spongy cake made with apricot jam and a cream sauce poured on top.

Caribbean Cuisine

Food from the Caribbean is a delicious mix of French cuisine, African cooking, and local foods! Caribbean food is delightfully spicy, warming, and eloquent. Food staples include peppers, sweet potato, coconut, plantain, mutton, tropical fruits, and leafy green vegetables, all prepared into a heady concoction.

Jerk chicken – Chicken marinated with hot Jerk spice and served with rice and peas. Jerk chicken is one of the most traditional food in Jamaica.

Ackee and saltfish – Ackee and saltfish, Jamaica’s national dish, is prepared with ackee fruit and salted codfish, suitable for mealtime.  

Macaroni pie – Macaroni pie is comfort food in the Caribbean; a cheesy baked pasta dish is delicious with stewed or barbecued chicken.

Lambi – Lambi’s main ingredient is Conch. The dish is prepared with a combination of Conch, curry powder, coriander, thyme, and marinating with other spices.

Jamaican Rum Cake – A Bundt cake with a moist and tender crumb smothered in sweet butter and rum syrup.

Oh boy! That’s a long list of the best food from around the world! So, if you would like to go on a culinary adventure and taste your way around the globe, give Travel Center UK a call or drop us a line, and we’ll be glad to assist you in planning your next trip.

Read More:- What’s the most iconic food around the world? Let’s find out!

This Article, Information & Images Source (copyright):- Travel Center UK Blog

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The Best Takeout & Delivery We Got This Week

Restaurants across the state have slowly started to reopen, and close, and reopen again over the past few months. It can be a lot to keep up with, and there’s still a large degree of uncertainty around the safety of dining out. Want to know what’s safe? Eating at home. And if you’re as bored of canned tuna as we are by now, here are a few great meals we’ve had recently that you can get for takeout or delivery.

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Week Of August 24

$$$$ 6800 West Gate Blvd #112

We recently wrote about the lechon asado loaded fries from Cuba512 in our best loaded fries in Austin guide, but if you’re not feeling potato-inclined, there’s a number of other great Cuban dishes you can get here, including the classic El Cubano that we really enjoyed. It’s filled with roasted pork, ham, Swiss cheese, pickles, and mustard - all on pressed Cuban bread. No fancy tricks or ingredients here, just a simple, classic sandwich done well. Their downtown location is currently closed, but their South Austin location off William Cannon and West Gate is open for takeout. Bring it home, make yourself a nice rum cocktail, open up all the windows, and pretend you’re on vacation somewhere tropical.

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$$$$ 7800 South 1st St

As you might guess from the name, Artipasta serves fresh pasta, and it’s possibly some of the best in town. We got the tagliatelle with the house meat sauce as well as the casarecce with basil pesto. It’s located in the spacious Thicket Food Park in South Austin - it was so chill and tranquil that we sat down at one of the picnic tables and just ate our takeout there. Pair it with a San Pellegrino and pretend like you’re in Italy - it’s not like we’ll be allowed to travel there anytime soon.

$$$$ 2101 Manor Rd

Thai Thani is easy to miss. It’s a food trailer behind another food trailer behind a gas station on Manor Rd. But if you manage to find your way there, you’ll be greeted with some really great Thai food. We went with a chicken pad thai this time around, and the portion was enough to last us a couple of meals. But if you’re looking to round out your meal a little more, we also really like their pad see ew and stir-fried basil beef. And if they have their mango with sticky rice dessert, it’s the perfect closer.

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$$$$ 422 W 5th St. #C

On the northwest corner of Republic Square in downtown Austin is Salt & Time Cafe, a new all-day cafe with outdoor seating from the people behind the popular East Side butcher shop and restaurant, Salt & Time. We picked up some sandwiches, including the Jambon Beurre, featuring mezcal-glazed ham, dill pickles, and a very French amount of salted butter, all on a demi-baguette. It’s enough to make you do things like wear a beret, smoke Gauloises cigarettes, and go on strike (for more sandwiches like this).

Week Of August 17

$$$$ 6519 N Lamar Blvd

Paprika opened up relatively quietly back in late 2019 and has been slinging out great tacos and tortas ever since. We enjoyed the taco de carnitas and taco de nopalitos, the latter of which comes packed full of well-seasoned prickly pear cactus and refried lentils. Every taco gets paired with a specific salsa - a really nice touch that elevates the experience a bit. The menu changes a bit depending on the time and day, so take a look at their website for the most up-to-date menu information before heading over.

$$$$ 9717 N Lamar Blvd Unit C2

Usta Kababgy opened just last year on Lamar just north of Rundberg, and the restaurant is turning out some really great Middle Eastern/Halal food. The charcoal-grilled kebabs were excellent, including the Iraqi and chicken ones. The tabbouleh was bright, and the pizza-like flatbread - we got the one that’s half zaatar, half feta cheese - was fantastic. But what stole the show was the fluffy and tender house-made bread. Order extra.

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$$$$ 900 E 11th St

Ordering takeout from Franklin Barbecue is one of the absolute best things you can do for yourself and for the lucky people you like enough to share with. We can also confirm that this barbecue tastes just as good without the usual five-hour wait/tailgate. To order, you just select a day and time (lunch hours only) up to one week in advance on their site, pick your meats (in 1 lb increments, except for links of sausage), and remind yourself that spending this kind of money is worth it when you get to eat this brisket. The pick-up situation is easy, too - staffers will bring your order right to your trunk. Get it home as quickly as you can, have the lunch spread you deserve, and spend the rest of the day knowing you made excellent decisions.

$$$$ 12233 Ranch Road 620 N

The dining room at Charm BBQ Chicken in north Austin is closed, so they’re not doing barbecue at the moment. But as the name suggests, their other focus is fried chicken. And we’re happy to report that the fried chicken is exceptional, with a shatteringly crisp skin (just ask for sauce on the side so you can toss the chicken in it when you get home). The rest of the menu has classic dishes like homemade and juicy mandoo dumplings, beef bulgogi, and bibimbap that comes with instructions on how to put it together - it wouldn’t travel well otherwise.

Week Of August 10

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$$$$ 9515 N Lamar Blvd Ste 230

The North Lamar Korean restaurant Seoulju has been takeout only since the pandemic hit, and just last week they launched delivery of both food and drink. Which means that you can get dishes like Korean Fried Chicken, kimchi stew, and spicy rice cakes, alongside beer and soju delivered right to your door. We opted for two sauces on our still-crispy chicken wings: Korean Sweet & Chili and Extra Spicy Sweet & Chili. Get the extra spicy.

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$$$$ 2305 E 7th St

The dining room at Joe’s Bakery, the family-run East Side Tex-Mex staple, is closed. For now they’re sticking to a drive-in model (you can’t even call ahead or order online). You park, waitstaff comes out and asks if you need a menu, they take your order, and the food comes out fast. We recently got an order of breakfast tacos (migas con todo and a bacon, egg, and cheese) as well as a side order of carne guisada and a whole bunch of their fluffy homemade flour tortillas. Everything was excellent, as always. You don’t even need to ask for their spicy salsa - they’ll put so many containers in your takeout bag that you’ll have leftover salsa for days and days.

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$$$$ 2709 Rogge Ln

The menu at Gossip Shack consists of just a few items - chicken, waffles, and waffle fries. But everything they offer, they do exceptionally well. Their wings are some of our favorite in town, due in large part to their unique offering of flavors, like jerk chicken or their signature CPR (Cajun, parmesan, ranch). And those are exactly what we got - large, perfectly fried chicken wings coated in Cajun spices, ranch seasoning, and enough parmesan to make a bowl of spaghetti jealous. Orders can take a while and they often sell out before their stated hours, so call ahead and get your order in ahead of time.

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$$$$ 3124 Manor Rd

We love a lot of things about La Fruta Feliz - their barbacoa de chivo (barbecue goat) is a favorite on tacos, and their al pastor is excellent - but if you’re looking for a really good and hearty lunch, their torta is a clear winner. Coming in at a massive 12 pounds (don’t fact check us on that), it’s packed full of meat - in this case, al pastor - and veggies for just under $5. They also have a huge fruit and veggie juice list, so go ahead and throw on a Digestivo (papaya, orange, and carrots) to help you get it all down.

Week Of August 3

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$$$$ 400 Josephine St

Carpenters Hall at the Carpenter Hotel has switched to takeout only, and they’re selling a cold fried chicken picnic for two or four. For $28, the picnic is not an insignificant amount of food, consisting of a half chicken (with a ranch dressing and spicy honey), potato salad, roasted green beans, and a cabbage slaw. Plus two very good chocolate chip cookies. You will have leftovers.

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$$$$ 9012 Research Blvd Ste C4

The Slab Slider Trio at Slab BBQ is exactly what it claims to be: three barbecue sliders. They’re mini versions of their much larger sandwiches: the Notorious P.I.G. (pulled pork, mustard coleslaw), the Texas O.G. (brisket, pickles, onions), and the Chicken W.A. (smoked chicken, coleslaw). But just because they’re smaller doesn’t mean they don’t pack the same flavor punch. And at $12, it’s a perfect lunch for those of us afraid of a singular sandwich commitment. Why have just one sandwich when you can have three, each one better than the next?

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$$$$ 2701 East Martin Luther King Jr Blvd

Lechonera El Pachango specializes in roast pork - something they’ve proven to do exceptionally well in the short month that they’ve been operating out of a seemingly-abandoned gas station on East MLK. We weren’t sure what we wanted to try when we pulled up, so we decided to just go with our nose (and a little guidance from the owner). We ended up walking out with a plate of slow-roasted pork, rice with peas, and yuca with pickled red onions. The pork was juicy and topped with a sauce made from a bit of the marinade and lime that we couldn’t get enough of. The yuca con mojo comes out in a stewed-consistency, making it fork-tender and bursting with tangy flavor. And the rice was the perfect intake-vehicle for all of it.

Week Of July 27

$$$$ 5811 Berkman Dr

We’re working on a guide to takeout Happy Hours, and the Windsor Park neighborhood restaurant Hank’s has a very solid offering. Every day from 3-6:30pm, you can get very good and very inexpensive frozen palomas, frose, and frozen margaritas - they’re $5 each. Order online, and pick up at their convenient drive thru takeout window. Instead of racing home with your frozen cocktails - drive safe - it’s perhaps better to bring a cooler.

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$$$$ 2301 W Parmer Ln

Bodhi Viet is a small food truck in North Austin with a 100% vegan Vietnamese menu, offering everything from banh mi and pho, to Vietnamese coffee and boba tea. We really liked the banh mi we had here, stuffed with a spicy lemongrass seitan, and filled with fresh vegetables that they grow themselves. And the best part is that they’re only $3, so you can throw in an order of their pineapple curry that we also really enjoyed and still get away for under $10.

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$$$$ 2406 Manor Road

Vic & Al’s is the new Cajun restaurant from the people that brought you the ever-popular Italian food trailer, Patrizi’s. We really like the po-boys, especially the super-tender blackened catfish and the Cochon De Lait, which has a sauce that’s almost like tonkotsu broth. The vacuum-packed, pre-made cocktails are also fun, including the very good made-for-summer Orange Drink (it’s very orange, but it also has tequila). Vic & Al’s is open for both takeout and delivery.

Week Of July 20

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$$$$ 500 San Marcos St #105

Bufalina Deli isn’t technically a new restaurant - instead it’s a simple lunch-and-dinner concept operating out of Wright Bros. Brew & Brew with a variety of salads and Italian sandwiches. On a recent takeout order, we really liked the summer tomato salad and the meatball parm hoagie. And since you’re ordering from The Brew & Brew, you can also get coffee, beer, and wine. Place your order online and pick it up at The Brew & Brew.

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$$$$ 8023 Burnet Rd

You might have heard about Ramen 512 and their often sold out popups - yes, the ramen was that good. But now they’ve found a permanent home, inside the new “cloud kitchen” concept Kitchen United Mix. This place currently has three options: Hakata Classic (a pork tonkotsu), the BGO (the Hakata Classic with black garlic oil), and the Sunset Red (a spicy version of the Hakata Classic). We recently tried the BGO and the Sunset Red - the broth for each was super creamy and rich, as a pork tonkotsu should be, and the spice level on the Sunset Red was in fact actually spicy. You can order the ramen ready-to-eat, or you can cook the noodles at home, with very precise instructions. Takeout and delivery are available.

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$$$$ 3842 Airport Blvd

Despite the small space - Lula Mae’s is located in a small gas station off Airport and 38 ½ St. - this place manages to put out some really great barbecue, with side dishes that are tasty enough to order on their own. We really like the brisket and the pork chop - the latter of which is served as a giant, whole chop with a smoky exterior and a juicy center. You can get all of the meats by the pound, in combo-plates, or as a sandwich.

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$$$$ 7301 Burnet Rd

The dining room at DipDipDip Tatsu-Ya, the Japanese shabu-shabu place from the Ramen Tatsu-ya team, has been closed since the pandemic hit. But they did what people do these days, and pivoted. They transformed the restaurant into a takeout-only pop-up serving sandwiches that mash up the French dip and shabu-shabu, with excellent results. Our favorite is the beef sandwich with a wasabi ranch and the pork sandwich with kimchi and a curry cabbage slaw. For dipping, you can choose between an umami jus and a spicy miso (they recommend which dipping sauce to get for each sandwich). Make sure to get an order of the aptly named “Pow!tato” - a side dish with some of the most impossibly crispy smashed potato chunks we’ve ever had.

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Week of July 13

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$$$$ 805 Stark St Austin

The Haitian food truck Kreyol Korner - off of North Lamar near Koenig - is usually open only on Saturdays, but it’s worth waiting for the weekend to roll around to try this place. Check their Facebook for the current menu and opening days and hours. Standouts from a recent meal include stuffed plantain cups and the super-tender stewed chicken combo. Also, make sure to ask for extra pikliz, the Haitian pickled vegetable relish.

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$$$$ 1104 W 34th St

Otherside Deli makes some of our favorite sandwiches in Austin, from cheesesteaks and meatball parm subs, to Italian subs and patty melts. But if you’re a first-timer at Otherside, chances are you’re here for the reuben - loaded up with their housemade pastrami, swiss cheese, sauerkraut, and russian dressing, between two slices of grilled rye bread. Keep an eye on their Instagram for some fun specials, like the Outer Limit Fries that come loaded up with all of the typical reuben fillings, but on a bed of waffle fries. They’re currently accepting takeout orders from their shop near 34th and Lamar.

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$$$$ 1234 S Lamar Blvd

Ever since they originally opened, Ramen Tatsu-Ya has been vehemently anti-takeout. But then the pandemic hit, and they pivoted to takeout-only (and have stayed that way ever since). We recently picked up some of their ramen and it tasted just like how we remembered it at the restaurant. The toppings and noodles come in their own container (that way the noodles don’t get soggy), and the broth is packed in a deli pint container that’s thoroughly wrapped in plastic wrap to prevent in-car disasters. The instructions are clear: heat the broth, do not boil, then add the broth to the noodles and toppings. And with three locations in Austin - north, east, and south - ramen is never too far away.

Week Of July 6

$$$$ 100 12th St

Island Fork in Pflugerville specializes in Caribbean food, like jerk chicken, curry goat, and escovitch fish (fried fish topped with pickled vegetables). They also have jerk-seasoned burgers and chicken sandwiches, as well as a menu of “rasta pastas” that feature creamy, Caribbean-inspired pasta sauces served over noodles and a variety of meats, like oxtail and jerk salmon. We usually get the jerk chicken here, served with coconut rice and grilled sweet plantains. Make sure to get a Caribbean soda as well - we like the Irish Moss and Ting.

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$$$$ 1108 East 12th St

Blink and you might miss this little food trailer on East 12th street, which has some of the best Mexico City-style street tacos in Austin right now. Cuantos Tacos has a tight menu of classics like suadero and beef cheeks, as well as a few less-common options, like buche and longaniza. Everything can be made as tacos or quesadillas, and at $2 and $5, respectively, the prices are affordable enough that you can probably try a few items off the menu. We like just about everything they carry, but our favorites are probably the champiñones quesadillas and the suadero tacos.

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