#you have chocolate that has an aftertaste of vomit.

[bearballing]

there's a certain flavour of yank online who will take any opportunity to rag on the uk but like, we're the same. both the uk and the us are absolute shitholes run by rich freaks who want all poor people ground into paste. you're not better than us lol. you're the same.

[edsbacktattoo]

re: post about american chocolate, as an american pastry chef i will weigh in even tho no one asked for it lmaoo

but basically the vast majority of american chocolate, particularly milk chocolate, has a preservative called butyric acid. butyric acid is also found in human bile. ofc the butyric acid in chocolate is not sourced from there but it still tastes like that!!

even tho i grew up here im autistic and very sensitive to aftertastes and i have always hated american milk chocolate, when i was a kid i thought i only liked dark chocolate but it turns out i just hate butyric acid.

as for why we do that, i believe its something to do with how large america is? thats why our food is so filled with preservatives in general. something made in say, germany, that is intended to be sold and consumed in germany, will only have to travel like 12 hours max, while in america you can drive for days and still just be here. not sure why that particular preservative tho 🤷

OH WOW A PASTRY CHEF!!!! first of all that is incredibly fucking cool. second of all, butyric acid my beloathed. I’m typically pretty tolerant with foods of all kinds, but i am sensitive to aftertastes too and my GOD hersheys chocolate was the worst of the worst.

I think it was a hersheys kiss i tried? i was so excited about it because ‘oooh just like on tv’ and i thought it would be rich and sweet, and then it just tasted. like vomit. my disappointment was immeasurable and my day was ruined.

it makes sense though! i’ve also heard rumours that american bread is sweeter due to the preservatives? like apparently it’s quite cake-y. i can’t attest to how true that is, of course, i’ve only had good old aussie bread (tip top’s the one, good on ya mum 😌👍) but maybe you’ll know more about that!!

i’m sorry that some of your chocolate tastes like barf. the fact that you guys don’t even have these…..

honestly devastating. i’m sorry

[obsoleteozymandias]

Hopefully I'm doing this right (Feel free to delete/ignore if your request matchups are closed or if you don't feel comfortable writing it) I just wanted to request a Matchup for Twisted Wonderland

Appearance: 5'0, waist-long straight black hair with full bangs, round almond brown eyes, round face (pale-ish??), just an Average Asian/Filipino, has a bit of a resting b face, so I try to always smile with my eyes.

I like wearing dark academia clothing but I also like clothing that looks grundge-y (my style is either masc or fem, no in-betwen)

My MBTI: ENFP

Zodiac Sign: Leo ♌

Sexuality/Gender: Demiromantic Asexual (I just say I'm Demisexual), Agender/ Genderfluid (She/her/They/them)

Personality: Ok whew, I dont know how to begin- My personality is a bit of a mess, I can be childish and playful but serious at times. I'm prone to hyperfocusing on things, I get defensive easily, and I am prone to getting a bit aggressive when I'm extremely mad/ pissed off. My tone of voice comes out as cold and mean (But I try to make it friendlier), I am stubborn (very stubborn when I know I'm right, I'm insistent on it too and rarely backdown) and I'm pretty confident and independent. I work in street smarts but my intuition is pretty strong, I'm quick to think on my feet. Some people have told me I like I have an Inferiority/Superiorty complex where I act like I'm the best but feel like the worst. I like acting average when I'm aware I'm not and I like playing Devil's Advocate, I like acting innocent and cutesty when I know I'll benefit from it. I like acting naive to fool people (My survival skills, apparently), I can be eccentric and follow my heart than my head most of the time, I am more inclined to go with the flow instead of sticking to a routine or schedule (Been told that I'm a walking Adhd). My friends have described me to be a "Golden Cat (or something)- Black Cat appearance and Golden Retriever Energy.

Likes: Sleeping and Daydreaming

I like chocolates, especially the extra bitter dark chocolates. And whipped cream makes me absolutely feral. My favourite type of chips are honey butter potato chips. I love blueberry cheesecakes and chocolate chip banana muffins. I also like the different colored macarons. I like my chocolate bitter but when it comes to tea, I will rival Kalim's sugar serving

I like the colors red, blue, and green.

I like roses, specifically the half colored roses (half red, half white), Sunflowers, and Forget-Me-Nots.

I like both dogs and cats.

Dislikes: Hypocrites, people who have no sense of morals and principles (people who cheat in school, just to be a top student, without actually learning anything), people who flex their wealth around. I dislike veggies because they have a weird aftertaste, specific textures (sensory issues go brrr)

Partner Preference/s: Its either one or the other for me (usually, when I simp for characters, They're either INTJ/ISTJ or ENTP, its crazy) To be more specific... I would prefer a partner who is incredibly smart/intelligent in academics (or just being knowledgeable in general), someone who is studious (I like nerdy people ngl) and being dorky about their interest. Sometimes, I find great attraction to people who seem aloof and closed off, I like cracking people open (not literally), people who compliment me, that we are different but similar in the things that matter. Someone who just gets me in ways that I couldn't/wouldn't anticipate.

My Love Language (Receiving): Acts of Service and Quality Time

I'm sorry for the word vomit 😭 I wanted to be as specific as I can

Hereeeee ya go

== Twisted Wonderland ==>

I match you up with…

Jade Leech

Jade is one of the few people who can appreciate the more manipulative ways you deal with people. When he sees you put on a cute or innocent act to get what you want, he’s SUPER intrigued. 

He’ll get closer to you with politeness at first, but you know he genuinely loves you when he shows you his more cunning and less than polite side. 

He’s also someone who can appreciate your lightheartedness. He himself is somewhat reserved and distant, and I imagine you’d be like a ray of sunshine in the ocean of his life. 

Side note: you and Floyd are a chaotic friendship which he frequently finds himself being both annoyed by and extremely fond of. 

Catch him making you all sorts of teas and drinks with your favorite flavors, or having you taste-test some snacks at the lounge that he already knows you’ll love. 

Is he offended when you put a lot of sugar into you tea? A little bit. Does he find your delighted smile cute and will overlook that? Absolutely. 

Jade and you are both independent creatures, but you find solace and acceptance of eachother wholeheartedly in one another. 

[ciaossu-imagines]

omg hi!!! can you do reigen from mob psycho 100 for the this or that list? please? you can pick the questions lol thank u have a great night!!!!

Hello, hello, my lovely anon! Thank you unbelievably much for this question! Reigen is one of my favourites so I'm just going to do all the questions! Have a great night yourself!

coffee or tea?

Reigen will drink both without complaint. He does appreciate a cup of coffee now and then but overall, he does find he prefers and drinks more tea. He has to add at least a little bit of sugar to coffee as he does find the taste more bitter than he’d like and he doesn’t really enjoy the aftertaste of anything heavier than a light roast coffee, whereas he finds no matter what type of tea, it’s normally pretty good just as is.

2. cars or planes?

Cars are more practical and what he uses far more than he’d ever use a plane so he’d pick that option.

3. books or movies?

I’m not saying he never reads. Reigen is a very intelligent man and is fairly well read but if given the choice, he’s always, always going to pick a movie. They take far less time for him to get through and since he’s a fairly visual person, it’s a more enjoyable form of story telling for him.

4. movies or tv shows?

He’d still pick movies, every time. And honestly, the more B-grade and cheesier the movie, the more Reigen will like it.

5. books or magazines?

It really depends on why he’s reading. If he’s doing research on something, he tends to go more for magazine articles or published articles on the internet but if he’s reading for pleasure, it’s a book. That being said, he probably has bought more magazines than books, oddly enough.

6. soda or water?

This is a difficult one as I firmly think that before Mob showed up, Reigen probably drank a lot more soda or tea or coffee than he did water. He next to never took care to stay really hydrated, despite knowing how much healthier it was and despite recommending that other people did. When Mob showed up though, Reigen started slowly modeling better and better behaviour for the child and that included making sure both of them stayed well hydrated. It’s gotten to the point where he actually prefers water over the more sugary drinks, though they are a nice occasional thing.

7. long-term relationships or casual flings?

Neither, honestly. I don’t think Reigen really thinks of romance all too often or of sex all that often. It’s not a huge need for him like it is for some other people and he has a lot of other things he’d rather prioritize. If he had more time, maybe, or if it became a bit more important to him though, he would definitely be more of a long-term relationship sort of person. Casual flings are not his thing at all and he thinks they could potentially lead to someone’s feelings getting hurt or many other complications.

8. sweet or sour?

He would definitely rather eat something sweet than something sour but doesn’t mind either...in moderation. Anything too sour makes him feel like vomiting and anything too sweet hurts his teeth.

9. sci-fi or fantasy?

Reigen loves sci-fi. In particular, he loves the really old, really cheesy, horribly produced sci-fi movies with aliens so bizzare and so badly made up that nobody can take them seriously.

10. pizza or fries?

Fries are actually one of Reigen’s weaknesses, I firmly believe. They are his ‘these are trash for me but they’re soooooo good’ guilty pleasure, the more salt the better!

11. vanilla or chocolate?

Vanilla goes with more things and doesn’t have as heavy an aftertaste as chocolate and it’s what Reigen prefers.

12. going to the movies or long walks?

As much as Reigen likes a good movie, he would rather take the long walk. He does genuinely enjoy being physical and getting out and about.

13. pants or skirts?

Pants. He never shows it but he doesn’t much like his legs. For some reason, he’s really kind of self-conscious about them and prefers to keep them hidden under pants.

14. shower or bath?

Bath all the way, especially at a bath house. It’s just a very soothing experience and really relaxes him. Showers seem more practical and perfunctory and less enjoyable overall.

15. formal or casual?

While he will wear casual clothes, Reigen feels the most at ease and the most like himself in a business suit or in slightly more formal attire.

[hhunjins]

Pairing: Jisung x gender neutral reader

Genre: slight angst, past relationships

Word Count: ~1,500

Warnings: None

Notes: this is kind of word vomit/stream of consciousness so it’s super messy but I kind of like how it turned out so :)) (open-ending!!)

Summary: You meet Jisung again after 7 years.

The universe works in odd ways.

It brings people together, an irresistible magnetic force pulling two unsuspecting souls closer and closer until they’re sucked into each other’s orbit.

It also breaks things apart, the inevitable crash and burn of relationships that were just never meant to be in this lifetime, or the next.

And then, there’s you.

As Jisung stares at you stand in line at Haven to grab coffee, he can’t help but think that you’re none of the above. Or maybe all of the above.

Your hair is a baby pink, almost white when the sun’s rays hit it at just the right angle. You’ve gotten rid of the thick framed glasses that were always perched on your nose and replaced them with contacts. You’re taller now, just a bit, though that might be the platform boots you’re wearing. You never wore those before.

You’re different, yet the same.

Jisung can’t help but stare. The warmth of the hot chocolate in his hands seeps into his skin, tingling at his fingertips. The moment doesn’t feel real. You’re here, even if you haven’t acknowledged Jisung’s presence in your gravity yet.

Or maybe you’re choosing not to. Jisung wouldn’t blame you, even if that thought makes the hot chocolate turn bitter on his tongue, leaving a nasty aftertaste. Some breaks are clean, but yours was smashed into bloody, jagged shards.

Seconds tick by. The universe tilts just enough on its axis. The world clicks into place.

There is surprise in your eyes at first, a small furrow in your eyebrows that sends a flare of doubt to the pit of Jisung’s stomach. But as fast as it came, it clears, leaving recognition in its wake, and maybe a hint of fondness. You’re smiling, but only slightly.

Jisung swallows the drink he’s been holding in his mouth and raises a hesitant hand to wave.

Slowly, you mirror his action, fingers twitching in the air as you lift it up.

This moment feels familiar. The awkwardness, the silence, the pull. Still, there is a distinct feeling of something new. A fresh start, a different setting, an outgrowing of the kids you were yesterday.

You speak first, over the low chatter of the café and across the multitude of tables that separates you.

Jisung hears you like you were only inches apart.

“How’ve you been?”

It’s funny how years have passed but he feels like it was just yesterday that you were a part of his life, a part of him. How you conquered your small world together with hands held tight and heart alight. How the universe deemed you unfit and broke you apart, plucking you out of his gravity and sending him adrift in the abyss.

But as you sit across from him, knees bumping against his under the small table, it’s funnier that you’re here now when the space between you felt irreparable.

You’re laughing at something he said, though he doesn’t remember what was so funny. He’s watching the way your right eye is slightly smaller than the left when your face scrunches up in amusement. He’s trying to remember if it always did that, though the answer is on the tip of his tongue. (It did.)

If you haven’t changed, was it him that did?

You’ve only been talking for a bit, maybe five rounds of the second hand around the clock, but it feels as if it were the minute hand that had made that journey. Talking to you feels foreign, hearing your voice and the small lilt at the end of your sentences for the first time in a long time. But being with you feels like he’s done this a hundred times before.

Though he supposes he has, once.

So Jisung smiles, hiding behind his cup of now-cool hot chocolate and watching a pretty pink dusting form over the apples of your cheeks. If this was going to be the hundreds of times plus one more, Jisung can only hope it lasts long enough for him to say all the things he’s been meaning to say all these years. Maybe you can enter each other’s orbit again, so Jisung won’t feel so alone floating aimlessly through space. He’ll have you tugging at him, a constant reminder that you’re there, and that you’re slowly, but surely, coming to a point where you’ll meet in the middle.

You pause to sip your cappuccino and lick the foam off your lip. You scoot forward in your seat, scraping the chair legs on the floor in an attempt to get closer.

Jisung thinks of all the things that want to tumble out from between his lips, spilling out like an overflowing dam, when your knees sandwich his own. He takes one look at those warm eyes, glinting under the fairy lights strewn about the walls of Haven, and there is suddenly only one thing on his mind.

“I’ve missed you.”

Jisung has changed.

You remember when his eyes were bright, taking in the entire world around him like every single sight was something new and beautiful to behold. It seems like the weight of it has finally hit him, settled itself onto his shoulders. It makes your heart ache a little.

He hides a sheepish laugh behind his hand, ducking his face as if to hide.

When did that change?

The tip of his shoe brushes against yours when he shifts in his seat. This feels familiar. Footsie under the table when there was no leg room. Leaning into his space because you couldn’t hold yourself up from laughing too hard. His arm around your shoulders, holding you steady.

You swallow your coffee and all of it washes away.

Bitterness.

When you look at Jisung, all that comes to mind is naivety. When you thought he was your world, your everything. When every aspect of your life revolved around him. Those childish moments when you felt like forever was a single second in his embrace. They were enough then.

But now, with seven long years between you, those moments feel like nothing. The space feels too big. You’ve floated too far away from each other.

So maybe this is a clean slate. A starting over fresh to make reparations for the past. You can’t lie and say that you haven’t thought of this moment before. You have. Many, many times. Wondered what it would be like to say hello to Jisung again and sit down over a cup of coffee and just get to know him. Forget about the past. Push away the resentment.

Jisung has changed, and so have you.

He says something that makes you laugh, though you’re only laughing because his ears are burning and it sounds exactly like something only Jisung would say. Yet, his eyes look sad as he looks at you, empty in the way they do when he’s thinking.

You don’t know how you remember that. Or why you do.

But when he speaks, says three words that makes your heart pick up, you know exactly why they look that way.

Maybe Jisung also lingers in the past too often. Maybe he still holds onto those fragments like you do. Too scared to grow up, but too old to look back. Wanting to move on, but wondering about the what-could-have-beens. Stuck in limbo.

“I’ve missed you too,” you say.

You have his phone number, still saved in your contacts as Han Jisung. Sans the hearts. Sans the emergency contact symbol. Perhaps a part of you really wanted this moment to happen and the universe granted you this as a way of tying up loose ends.

There’s an odd sort of finality in that sentence. Maybe you don’t want this to be final.

People fall in love. They break up. They move on. You wonder if the cycle has started over for you, returning you to the beginning. You wonder if this cycle means you’ll make the same mistakes.

But you’ve changed. And Jisung has too. You’re both a little older, a little wiser, a little more beat down by the world. Maybe you won’t start this cycle over again with Jisung, but at least you’ll have Jisung. After all, he was the first person who believed you could be more than what you were. You loved him at one point, before things got too hard. Maybe you can love him again. In a different way.

So you save his number again. As Han Jisung with a smiley face this time. It’s not saying that he’s yours again, but at least he’s yours again. Yours in the sense that he’s close enough that you can feel his presence on the peripheral of your gravity. Just enough. There.

He leaves you with a smile, eyes a little brighter than they were before. You watch him leave Haven with his bag slung over his shoulder, and for a short moment, you see yourself walking out with him with hands held tight. Younger you.

You sip the last of your drink.

The universe works in odd ways. It gets you thinking about how final endings really are. What happens when the curtains close? What happens when the credits are over?

Rewind. Replay.

You don’t want a repeat of mistakes already done, but maybe things will be a little different this time. There are a lot of maybes and it might be not so wise to put faith in something so insecure, but something about this feels right.

[syilcawrites]

threaded

s. Let’s gaze into the mirror of parallels. a/n. Fun chapter to write! Hm, I don't think the 'past' section has a specific timeline? It's kinda scattered like how you can find the memories in whatever order. So you can take it how it is or you can draw your own map or something :-) Thanks for reading! xoxo ao3 | all chaps on tumblr

2. chocolate & liquor

"The wine should pair nicely with the chocolate-covered wildberries. Did I mention that the Princess—yes, I know, the Princess Zelda—planted this wildberry bush right here?" The young Hylian chef taps on the thorny bush next to them.

Several oohs and aahs resonate around him from the other customers.

Link takes a gulp of red wine, his face contorting into a series of controlled distaste. He was hoping this time would be different, but that sharp aftertaste never goes away regardless of the kind of alcoholic beverage he’s tried. Granted this time, it should taste better with chocolate, at least. And it’s a free taste test.

"Are you sure she actually planted this?" Link asks when the chef passes by him. The chocolate begins to melt off of the wildberry in his awfully warm hand.

The chef scoffs and rolls their eyes. "Do you doubt me? My great grandfather said so!" He takes back the plate of chocolate-covered wildberries from Link to move on to the next customers. Link shifts his gaze from his palm to observe the wildberry bush the chef had mentioned earlier. It sways in the light, chill breeze—plucked clean, without a single berry left. Do wildberry bushes even last over a hundred years? Let alone through an almost-end-of-the-world event.

Link sullenly eats the chocolate-covered wildberry. Sour and sweet in itself with the rich taste of chocolate to balance it out. He takes another sip of the red wine, and the sweet aftertaste of the chocolate stays prominent. Nothing tastes as sweet as chocolate-covered wildberries planted by the Goddess-blood Princess herself, huh?

There were always rumors flitting around about the Princess. It is a bit hard to believe that she planted this very wildberry bush. But maybe she did? Maybe, with her own two hands, she cared for and delicately planted it, and it survived throughout the calamitous century.

Yes, a century ago….

A century ago he could've been there with dirt-stained hands and the memory of her smile seared into his mind as they planted it together, but he wouldn't know.

All he knows is that right now, he has a handful of pink-fleshed berries left out from the wild.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" Zelda deadpanned as she crouched down in front of him with an eyebrow quirked up. It was evident she tried to remain stern, but a laugh was bubbling up her throat. "You know that you're terrible at handling alcohol, right?"

"Revali," Link managed to slur out with a thick coat of wine stuck on his tongue. He stared at Zelda dead in the eye. "You're gonna lose," he declares adamantly as he waves a lopsided finger in front of her face.

"Revali retired two hours ago. This always happens between the two of you, whenever alcohol is involved." Zelda stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

Technically, he didn’t mean to drink so much. But Revali kept egging him on and on because it was one of the few things that he could beat Link in within a landslide. And so Link drank.

And drank.

Until Zelda snatched the cup from him and dragged him outside while he profusely declared that he was fine, sober even.

“Why'd you drink so much? You know you can hardly hold your liquor." She grabbed his arm and pulled it over her shoulders as she hauled him back up—she sucked in a sharp breath as she almost lost balance from supporting his weight.

"I can keep going…" Link hiccupped, wobbling on his feet as Zelda struggled to keep the both of them upright.

"Oh Hylia, you're heavy!" Zelda squeaked as she set him down against a tree, heaving. Her forehead glistened with sweat as she straightened out her back. Link leaned his head back against the tree and stared up at her—moonlight gleamed down upon her as if she were some angel that was here to save him. "You and your doe-eyes… stay here, okay? Nod if you understand me.”

She waited until he did so, albeit it being loose and wobbly.

“Good. I'll go get one of the guards to bring you in—"

Link immediately slouched forward and grabbed her wrist. "Don't go," he muttered, almost whining as he tugged her toward him. He tightened his grip around her wrist as he tried to stabilize his vision by blinking rapidly—which did, in fact, not help at all.

"Okay, okay! Just stop moving, or else you're going to vomit." Zelda’s brown boots came into view as she stepped closer to him. She knelt across from him and gently pushed him back so he was leaning against the tree. Afterward, she placed her hands on both sides of his face and raised it just a bit so it wasn’t hanging forward. With a chuckle, she offered him a lopsided smile. "If you keep moving like that you're going to regret it."

He squinted at her so he could stop seeing three blurred versions of her pretty face. "You've got somethin’ right here," Link said, poking repeatedly at the curve of her jaw near her chin. "Did you always have that dot?"

Was it a birthmark? He would’ve noticed it earlier if it was. Maybe it was a grease stain then? He did accompany her to Purah’s lab earlier in the day, where she helped tinker around with some Sheikah tech.

"Hm?" Zelda wiped at the spot with the back of her hand, but all it did was smudge the dark brown dot.

"Lemme help," Link insisted, leaning toward her face, his full attention on the smudge lining the shape of her jaw. He took his thumb and tried to wipe it away, but the persistent smudge stayed there.

"Link, I don't think—"

He leaned closer and slightly parted his lips, licking it instead. It was sweet and bitter—dark chocolate. Her favorite. He drew back just a bit to see if it was gone. "It was just chocolate," Link muttered, as he graced her jaw with one last quick stroke of his thumb just to make sure it was gone, before slumping back against the tree trunk. He winced from the sharp headache that began probing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Good thing it wasn’t grease, it probably wouldn’t taste that good,” he muttered as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his fingers. He was still recovering from consuming a whole plate of rock-hard food with Daruk from a week ago, and he was pretty sure tasting a grease stain wouldn’t help him.

When she didn't say anything, Link hurriedly opened them again, only easing when he saw that she was still sitting in front of him. For a split second, he felt as if he was actually alone the entire time.

Zelda had a hand placed firmly against the side of her cheek, with her face as red as the wine he had drunk at the party. "You…" she sputtered, her wide-eyed expression soon shifting into a series of disbelief and embarrassment. "You're never allowed to drink again!" She shot up from her position and threw her cloak at him while muttering a series of incomprehensible words he couldn’t catch.

The lingering aftertaste from the drop of dark chocolate tasted sweeter than it did bitter.

[fine-not-fine]

your ocs as drinks?

Bernard: strawberry juice and vodka probably but its super dark reddish pink. It totally has blood in it. It’s like a real bloody mary with no tomato. very fruity. You’ll probably get wasted on it. Might have like those edible sprinkle and crystal things. very gay Cyanide: like a lime margarita but very smooth somehow like scotch despite being very bitter and sour. Almond aftertaste. Lots of people dare each other to do shots of these and after awhile it makes your mouth really sore or numb. Arsenic: tea alcohol basically. Very neutral flavor with garlic and cinnamon but it will destroy your liver. do you really want this? your kidneys will never forgive you. It will get you smashed in under thirty minutes if you have a decent glass. for the love of god don’t use this has a shot drink you’ll die.Mercury: Kinda a bourbon with cinnamon and soft spices. Very rich. Isn’t that bad but you can get smashed if you have a ton of it. Tends to be relaxing to some and gives a buzz to others. Generally a feel good drink you could sit around at your kitchen with and talk to someone with.Valentino: It’s basically grape vodka but it can and will mess you the hell up. It’s usually cold as shit and makes your throat get all tingly. You will do something dumb that night. You just will then you’ll cry. It’ll for sure kill you if you drink a cup of this slowly you’ll be skirting hell buddy. chill the fuck out man, we’re drinking not planning murder. wait is their blood is this one tooSam: Kinda like a liquor. Bitter but not hard as far as liquors go. A businessman’s drink. Not with any notable flavor but it’s decent and you probably have a good old reliable bottle of it in your cabinet somewhere. A gentle party drink. People drinking this aren’t looking for death. it’s very dark though which makes it look more scary than it is. Cold as hell and freezes up your throat in big gulps.Max: Soft barely alcohol. It’s not nasty like most beers are but it’s not quite wine. Very chill drink usually served with some snacks. Classy and gentle. It’s like a “I’m meeting her parents drink and i want to look like I’m not a raging alcoholic.“ Cold but not nearly as cold as Sam.Carmelo: King of fruity drinks. Like is there even alcohol?? All you can taste is fruit. Honestly it’s only dangerous because people underestimate how much alcohol is in their system at once. If you want to have flavor and fuck off on your bed for an hour or just fucking have some sweet ass juice while fucking around town this is your drink. Just watch it man don’t get lost in the fruit. Opal: Warm fire whiskey that will fuck your throat up but everyone drinks it when it’s cold. Kinda tastes like chocolate and regret. Still good tho. Easily tips the scale of ‘im tipsy’ to “sweet mother of god Im on the bathroom floor lying in vomit where did my life go so wrong’. Its needed on the holidays. You will see like four people drinking it. Might clear out all your sinuses but it also might leave you calling your ex so drink wisely and don’t get into any fights with past and current loved ones. Has a honey flavoring too.

[jamespaul321]

5 Best Alternatives Of Coffee Which Are Healthy And Full Of Energy

People have been using coffee for decades, to get agility and energy, that is a caffeine-rich drink. Though coffee is exceptional with many health advantages, besides, there are many side effects such as nervousness, insomnia, stomach upset, muscle tremors and agitation.

The good news is that though the taste may vary, other beverages can serve the same purpose and even with comparatively more significant health benefits.

Capomo

Capomo, also generally Called Maya nut, is a superfood. It tastes like coffee when it is created as a drink. And not merely the flavour, but it’s also filled with natural energy.

Capomo is a seed of a shrub that’s both healthy and tasty. Leaves can be consumed together with this seed, and it’s not detrimental to health in any way.

Its specialization is it can be converted to many flavours. Depending on how it is created, it may taste like cinnamon and chocolate. Capomo has many health benefits, and everyone can drink it. It is considered as one of the best alternatives of Coffee.

TEA

Tea is a dried leaf of a specific plant, and it is globally used as the substitute of coffee. Tea can be made with many spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, fennel, black pepper and honey. Tea is a tasty beverage along with fragrant aroma in addition to other health benefits.

Following is the easy recipe to produce yummy tea.

Crush the desirable quantity of cardamom seed, cloves and black peppercorns. Mix with the aid of filtered water/milk a slice of ginger, cinnamon stick along with the crushed spices. Add black tea bag and permit it to simmer for 10 minutes, after which you may enjoy.

Chamomile

It originated in Western Europe, India, Western Asia; however, over time, it has gained fame in America. It is grown in gardens because of the attractive physical attributes and sedative properties. Besides, it can be grown in fields and other sunny, well-drained regions.

There are many health benefits of Chamomile tea that include reducing the stress reduction and tension within the body, aiding digestion and treatment of other digestive conditions, boosting immunity and fighting germs. It’s packed with massive levels of antioxidants which help enhance immunity and combat bacterial infection. Additionally, it may help to reduce inflammation, impede the growth of cancerous tissues and also unwind the entire body’s muscles.

Cinnamon

It’s a spice that is gotten out of the tender, inner bark of all Cinnamomum, a shrub that grows in Sri Lanka and South India. Cinnamon is beneficial for both the mind and the human body. It has been proven to help enhance cognitive pace and clean the mind in people of older age.

Cinnamon has a strong flavour with a sweet aftertaste. Some of its benefits include: improvement of focus and cognitive rate, boosting the immune system, improvement of digestion and calming an upset stomach.

Peppermint

The plant is located in native Europe, and it generally has menthol and a refreshing taste and quite a few health benefits. It will help the body get cold in the instance of a fever; it is a fantastic remedy for gastrointestinal ailments, and it assists for digestion. It can help ease nausea and also prevent vomiting.

Peppermint is quite useful during cases of motion sickness because of its anti-inflammatory properties.

[georgiabread]

sometimes this has a hot, sweet taste

summary: Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

word count: 2.4k

trigger warnings: none

a/n: this is slightly trashy and they're uncharacteristically sappy, but maybe i got it spot on. if you can't tell, dan and phil at the beach is my favourite thing.

Santorini is sleep, sun cream and fruity cocktails all folded between a few days of calm, and Dan realises he needs it.

This revelation arrives with half-lidded eyes, his body curled into the rubber of an inflated doughnut, floating in the pool of one of those Greek villas he used to see all over holiday sites and Pinterest. The water is blue and blinding and smells like bliss, and he has never appreciated Bryony’s spontaneity more.

The trip was planned and booked before he and Phil ever got the chance to say yes, but there were no regrets involved. Excluding the ungodly hour they arrived and the frail tax-driver of which they were at the mercy, of course. The man had grappled with their lives, scurrying around cliff roads to reach their hotel, and Dan remembers watching his heart tumble across the floor of the minibus.

But no – this idea was a tremendous one. A weekend spent with the people he’s known the longest, without prying cameras and anxiety-inducing social events. It’s a weight off Dan’s back. Because he can rest, unadulterated, no what if’s and but’s attached. Because no one will recognize him and Phil in a sheltered cove off some island in the Mediterranean.

If only it was that simple back in London.

The doughnut grazes the edge of the pool, twists and pushes Dan in another direction. It’s enough to knock him from slumber. Eyelids peel open, toes curl and crack. Dan whimpers in his throat when the sun burns his eyes. Where are his sunglasses? Didn’t Phil borrow them? Damnit Phil. Half-submerged in water and sleep, he decides to blame Phil for any possible blindness.

“Ah. The beast awakens.” Bryony’s voice rises and falls over the pool’s ripples.

Dan glances around, slightly disoriented, until he finds his friend reclined on a deck chair, pineapple juice in hand. “Did Phil steal my sunglasses?” he slurs.

“Probably. He went to get ice cream with Wirrow.”

“If that bitch doesn’t get me chocolate…”

“Don’t worry. He mentioned something about you and choc ice cream.”

“Good.”

“By the way, you should get out of that pool sometime soon. Don’t want another run-in with heat stroke.”

“Fuck, why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Dan flounders in the doughnut for a moment, sinking down the hole in the centre. He eventually makes it to the steps and clambers out. He touches his arm. Definitely freckled. And definitely hot.

Bryony chuckles and sips her juice. “You were too peaceful. Here, I took a photo.”

She finds her phone and her nails patter over the screen, before a picture of Dan’s almost-naked sleeping body is shoved in Dan’s face.

Dan narrows his eyes. “Send that to me. I look mildly cute enough to post it.”

*

A thick blob of gelato drips from Dan’s cup, landing with a dollop on his thigh. It’s chocolate, bittersweet with a dash of coffee. He wipes it away with his thumb and licks it, hears Phil snigger beside him about gross boyfriends or something like that. Their ankles are hooked together underwater, the two of them perched on the side of the pool with expensive ice cream cooling their lips. There is warmth where their arms meet. Freckles are drawn together like constellations, connecting their bodies.

Dan side-eyes Phil after his muttered comment, mouth twitching. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing! I just said it’s yucky when you eat off your thigh,” Phil says, slurping on his spoon to conceal a grin.

“I thought certain people rather enjoyed eating off my skin.”

“Hey, don’t be so vulgar.” Phil shoves Dan’s shoulder, letting his cheeks accumulate a satisfying redness.

Giggling, Dan falls to the side a little more than necessary, and when he straightens up, paints Phil’s blush with his own ice cream-smothered spoon. “There. Eat that.”

“You do it.”

Eyebrows quirk up. Dan tips towards him without hesitation and drags his tongue over Phil’s skin, licking up the cream. Phil gags and scrubs his cheek, his nose crinkling in mock-disgust. “Urgh. You’re horrible. That was hardly sexual.”

Dan pouts. “Is my tongue no longer appealing?”

“Not when you get your saliva all over my face.”

“I’m disappointed in you.” Dan scoops at his gelato, watching his partner carefully. There’s a glint leftover in his eyes. Phil definitely loved it. Dan looks away to hide a smile, rubbing Phil’s foot with his own.

There is a silence. It takes a long, soothing breath, settles around them like a blanket. Dan focuses on the ocean before them. It’s a vast and glossy thing that oddly comforts him. There’s something about the enormity of it, knowing he’s so far away from the responsibilities and hassle of their London life, that puts him at ease.

“We should do this more often.”

“Do what? Lick each other’s faces?”

“No, idiot. Go on holiday. It’s…nice.” Dan’s voice grows soft. “Just being here with you, that’s nice. And – I can hold your hand when we’re in public and stuff, without worrying who’s gonna see and question us or…or expose us online. Of course it’s great hanging with Bryony and Wirrow, but. We never get enough time like this, you know? Time alone, I mean.”

Phil had reached up and brushed his fingers through Dan’s matted curls while he was talking. Now his fingertips land on his jaw, and Dan turns his head. He watches the smaller sea swirling in Phil’s eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” Phil whispers. Their ice cream is a distant memory. “What if we went to Japan again? I can propose under the cherry blossoms.”

“If you do that, I’ll actually say no simply because it’s too cheesy.”

“Rude.”

Phil kisses him then – delicate, a reassurance. He tugs on his bottom lip, leaves a taste of lime and pistachio behind. Dan chases the kiss, hands landing on Phil’s arm and neck, then face, cupping his cheeks, their mouths coalescing. The water ripples around their legs. Something painfully fond fills Dan’s chest. When he pulls back, a thumb brushing over Phil’s cheekbone, he – and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid – he suddenly wants to cry.

*

The four of them go snorkelling in the bay. Fish are abundant in all sizes and colours, and Phil confirms this by calling out, “Guys, come look at this!” whenever he lays eyes on one.

Wirrow is mildly interested. Bryony pretends to go deaf. Dan humours him for about the first four. Then shoves his face underwater and keeps it there, preferring to quietly observe the sea life going about their day. His skin feels slick from all the sun cream Phil lathered on him, going on about UV rays despite his own ghostly exterior.

Afterward, while removing their snorkels and diving fins, Phil crosses his arms like a five-year-old and whines about being snubbed.

“We loved your fish, dear,” Dan sighs, eyes soft. “But they weren’t all that remarkable.”

He leaves a kiss on Phil’s cheek as he stands.

It’s ridiculous, how easy it is.

*

By 7 pm, the sun shies away behind the horizon. The ocean purples. They end up at a bar called the Chrysós Brewery; it has a roofless balcony overlooking the cove, and tall torches are scattered between mingling patrons. Bryony and Wirrow disappear quite suspiciously, probably wanting Dan and Phil to have the evening to themselves.

They make the most of it. A petite table for two near the glass balustrades is pinched, and they order the most zany-sounding cocktails on the menu. When the waitress hands over their drinks, Dan studies his warily. It’s blood red, with an odd-looking bunch of fruit and lavender petals sprinkled over the foam.

“Maybe you should drink it instead of having a staring contest with it,” Phil teases after a minute. He takes a sip of his own cocktail, transparent turquoise and decorated with strawberries.

Dan gives him a withering look. “Alright, McSass. I don’t need your comments, thank you.” He takes a large gulp, and the cocktail explodes against his taste buds and eats away at his tongue. He’s left with wide eyes and a tangy aftertaste that actually…isn’t that bad. “You know, I think I’ll order another,” he says.

*

By nine o’clock they’re near-drunk.

At one point, Dan fumbles for Phil’s hand and hauls him away from the table, swerving to a stop somewhere along the railing. “I can’t believe we’re drunk and it’s only nine o’clock.”

Phil blames it on him. Dan frowns and says they’re in Greece, there’s no rules here. But having downed a variety of bizarre brews and beverages, he doesn’t even trust his own judgement.

“Well, we’re not actually drunk,” Phil points out. “We’re just tipsy, or maybe slightly above, I dunno.”

Dan blows a raspberry when he sighs, winding his arms around Phil’s waist and making his head comfy on Phil’s shoulder. “Whatever. We’re doing this ancient ruins-tour-thing tomorrow, so don’t be hungover.”

“Oh, I’m not that drunk, you bum.”

“I guess time will tell.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Phil pretends to vomit. “We can wait till we get back to the villa for that.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating a party pooper,” Dan grumbles.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a child.”

“We should just agree to split up if that’s how we really feel.”

Phil draws Dan closer and nudges his nose into his neck. “Definitely.”

Live music fills the silence that passes, drifting from a corner of the bar. Unconsciously, they begin to sway. Dan traces his fingers over Phil’s back, and Phil tucks one or two kisses inside Dan’s collarbone.

The moment is blissful. Dan’s brain is a little clouded, and he has to blink away the urge to sleep, but he loves this. He loves slow-dancing with Phil, blind to everyone else in the room. All he can see is the dark-haired man nestled against him, his best friend and assigned ‘grow old with me’ person. And Dan realises that maybe the places he tried to find solace in had never mattered from the beginning.

Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

After that, Phil chuckles, his whole body shifting against Dan’s. Then he shuffles back and takes two dimpled cheeks in his palms and kisses him, drunk and sloppy and smitten. “Love you too, you nong.”

*

“Your heart line’s kind of long and curvy…I think that means you express all your emotions freely. Or is that content with love life? I’m not sure.”

Phil’s voice is soft and matted with sleep, matching the muted light in their villa bedroom. He studies the creases carved into Dan’s left palm with a thoughtful frown, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin. The sheets are still sticky and twisted around their tangled legs. Sweat is stranded in Dan’s hairline. His eyelids flutter closed every now and then but he rebels against the drowsiness, much preferring to stare at the quiet concentration on Phil’s face as his palm is read.

Dan huffs a low laugh through his nose. He can’t tell if this is legitimate or not, no matter what Phil says about his psychic ancestors. But he doesn’t dwell on that for too long. Phil’s right about his love life, at least.

“What about this one?” Dan murmurs, pointing to the groove arching away from his thumb.

Phil traces it gently. “That’s your life line. All about general health and life changes. Yours is quite deep and round, which I think means you have a lot of enthusiasm and stuff.”

“Bullshit.”

“I think that’s actually quite true. You’re sweet and energetic when you’re in a happy mood.”

Dan snorts but hides half his face in his pillow. He won’t voice the embarrassing thought in his head, something to do with the knight of wands. “I hate you.”

Dan can’t remember the time they got back from the bar. He was too busy pulling Phil’s shirt off, crumbling when Phil ran his hands over his bare chest. But now, it’s late, and they need rest. Tomorrow is dedicated to exploration. They still have another three days of Santorini, before it’s home again on a flight to audience expectations and boundaries they know not to cross. But Dan wants to be stuck in this moment forever, love in his chest and Phil’s delicate fingers on his skin, their naked bodies woven together with warmth in the most innocent and most passionate way.

Phil’s lips brush over Dan’s fingertips, bringing his focus back to the palmistry at hand. “Now this is your head line,” Phil murmurs. “Yours is quite straight, which is like, you think realistically. But you also have a little doughnut there and that means…you, um, love food.”

Dan’s laughter is like wind chimes. “That’s the fakest thing I’ve ever heard,” he whinges. “You’re just being stupid now.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a phoney palm-reader.”

“Hey! These are great services. You should be paying double.”

“Okay, tell me about this one, then.” Dan taps the crease that runs through his heart line.

“Your fate line is broken in two,” Phil observes. “Right. That means one day, some guy is destined to chop you in half and that’s how you die.”

“Fucking shut up.” Cosy giggles burst from Dan’s lips, and he leans closer, bumping their noses together. “I want a refund.”

“Nope. No refunds,” Phil says, linking their fingers. He lifts Dan’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, one by one.

“Well, you can expect a strongly-worded review on your website, then.” Dan’s voice takes on a mock-angry tone. “Phil Lester is the worst palm reader I know. He never knows what he’s talking about and his face is too pretty and distracting. Zero stars.”

“What?” Phil laughs softly. His eyes dip down to Dan’s mouth, before meeting his gaze again. His next words squeeze through half-parted lips. “You should be thanking me for my good looks. They’re obviously a bonus.”

Dan tilts his head. “Obviously,” he murmurs, before pressing his mouth deep and tender against Phil’s. He can taste the bite of vodka and lemon, but everything feels saccharine, his own tendrils of drunkenness blurring his thoughts, lulling his heart. Phil squeezes his hand, nibbles gently on his bottom lip, making sure to leave it chapped in the morning. And Dan just breathes him in until he fills his lungs and with every kiss, he says;

You are where I want to be, always.

phanfics

[lovecrimevariations]

soulmateAU: when your soulmate eats something you grave what they are eating! please! I mean Will poor poor Will graving human meat? goddamnit or Hannibal graving fast food? xD well this can be angsty or funny! :^)

I couldn’t decide between angsty or funny so I wrote both! :D

1.

For the first year, he doesn’t mind it.

The menu doesn’t vary much. It’s mostly cooked fish, steamed vegetables (usually string beans), nicely fluffed rice. It’s whiskey most nights and coffee most mornings (and some mornings it’s coffee and whiskey). It’s the occasional Hershey’s chocolate bar, which makes Hannibal’s palate wince - he really thought he’d taught Will how to appreciate a nice bitter dark chocolate, but he supposes some habits are hard to break.

It’s fresh lemon pie in the summer, and warm cider with rum in the winter. It’s the beef stew that Hannibal gave him the recipe for, made with a really lovely bordeaux.

It’s lomo saltado, once, although there’s a saltwater aftertaste that’s unmistakable.

All of these tastes, lingering in the back of Hannibal’s throat, dancing on the edges of his senses, he savours. Because it’s a small piece of Will that he can still cling to within these white, lifeless walls. It’s why he behaves so perfectly for his guards - the most gentlemanly of murderers - and it works. Works so well that they grant him special meal privileges, all so that Will can still taste Hannibal’s cooking, now and then.

But even that small thread can bring the deepest of pain when tugged too tight, and it does just that on an unremarkable Sunday afternoon.

The day that Hannibal tastes wedding cake on his tongue.

It’s a light sponge, perfectly moist with a dark chocolate buttercream. A simple cake, but well made. The taste makes Hannibal want to vomit.

Then he tastes the ghosting press of fingers as they playfully shove the cake in his - Will’s - face, and he does vomit then.

He retches in his tiny porcelain toilet with violent force, and he holds the stale acrid tang of it in his mouth before he spits, hoping that somewhere far away Will gets a taste.

Then he rinses his mouth out, splashes water on his face, and lies down in his grey cot. He stares up at the void of the ceiling and wishes he could never taste anything ever again.

(fluffy part 2 under the cut)

2.

(three years later)

Will is walking through the streets of Barcelona when the unthinkable happens. He stops in his tracks and brings a hand to his mouth.

“No..”

Face chalk-white, he pulls his phone from his pocket and hits the only number he has saved in his contacts.

The phone rings twice, three times, four…

“Come on, pick up, pick up–”

“Will?”

Hannibal sounds distanced. This is not good. Will frowns and hopes it’s audible

“Hannibal Dickhead Lecter, why am I suddenly craving a Big Mac?”

Crackling silence echoes between them.

“He had it in his car.”

Will rakes a hand through his hair. “And you ate it?!”

He can hear Hannibal shrugging at the end of the line. Like this is no big deal. Like this doesn’t change Will Graham’s entire fucking worldview forever.

“I’d always been curious,” Hannibal explains, “I only took one bite. The food was unwrapped.”

Will steps out the way of foot traffic and braces himself with one arm against a nearby wall. “I - God, I don’t even know what to say right now, Hannibal.”

“Will. You’re upset.” Hannibal says it with the even tone of someone who clearly does not understand why Will would have a reason to be upset.

“I’m not, I… it’s just.” Will sucks his lip between his teeth. “Did you… like it?”

“Oh goodness no,” Hannibal replies swiftly. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Then why would you - Oh my God.” It hits Will with sudden clarity and he smiles. “You miss me.”

“What?”

“You knew the quickest way to get me to call would be to eat the grossest, most abominable fast food you could think of.”

“That’s ridiculous, Will.”

“Yes it is. Yes, you are.”

“And if I did miss you?” Hannibal asks. “Would that be so terrible?”

Will leans against the warm brick and smiles slow and lazy. “Only if I didn’t miss you back.”

A cart across the street catches Will’s eye and he pushes off the wall with one foot.

“Hold on a second.”

On the other end of the line, Hannibal hears something in a blurry rapid-fire exchange of Spanish, a jangle of coins, and the crinkle of wax paper. Then suddenly there’s a burst of cinnamon sugar across his tongue.

“I godduss a churro,” Will says with his mouthful. Hannibal sighs at him, exasperated but fond.

“Sometimes your manners are atrocious.”

“Mm,” Will agrees, “but you love it when I suck sugar off my fingers.”

He does just that, and is rewarded with a throaty moan from Hannibal.

“Thass more like it,” Will says, pleased. “Now finish what you’re doing - quickly - so you can come home to me. No more burgers.”

Hannibal laughs. “Yes, my dear.”

“Good. Oh and darling?”

“Mmm?”

“Cook him well for me.”

“I always do.”

[emerald-amidst-gold]

🍿🍩☕️ (it's dinner time where i am bby!!!!)

Ooo, dinner time?! o3o Let's get the appetite going, then! >:D

In which I mean, spoil our appetites because that's what Fane does. *shakes head*

🍿 ~ favorite snack

...Solas. *is slapped* JOKING! JOKING!

Well, my boy's a straight up carnivore when he isn't stuffing his face with sweets. As such, he really enjoys dried meats, jerky; things like that. He likes things he can consistently 'gnaw' on because it keeps him from grinding his jaw too heavily. Later on, he realizes it's a more 'instinctual' habit from being a dragon. The rip and tear, the earthy, gamey scent.. Ohh, it just helps him inch back towards that base level of draconic nature.

...but also Solas. *slapped again*

🍩 ~ favorite sweet treat

ALL OF THEM.

But most definitely cakes, bite sized ones. Just pop in your mouth, and go, making sure no one's the wiser. Fane likes cream filled cakes, maybe even like swiss roll type. Since one, he fucking adores chocolate so much that it nearly makes him vomit, and two, anything with cream is just a yes for him. It can be fluffy, dense, light; he doesn't care. It's just sweet and it makes him relax.

He also enjoys nutty cakes; anything with almonds, to be precise. Almonds have a sweet aftertaste, so it just adds even more yum, yum! A dragon with a sweet tooth. More like a spoiled puppy who got into the lead wolf's stash. Boy needs to eat his VEGGIES!

☕️ ~ favorite drink

Coffee, babeyyyyyyy! Fane needs that boost since he doesn't sleep for more than four hours; sometimes less! He'll drink about four or five cups in a day, if he's lucky to catch a break. He drinks it black, but sometimes, if he's having a really tough day, he'll add a few spoonfuls of sugar. Or if he's really, really having a shit day, then he spikes it. Just a shot, but it eases the tension out enough that he can keep himself from going off the handle.

Thank you for the askkkkk! My son has no proper meal plaaaan! <3 <3

[weeklyhumorist]

I Am the Scallops in This Diner, and Here Are All the Reasons You Shouldn't Order Me

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1. I am absolutely disgusting. 

  I cannot emphasize this enough. At a Michelin starred restaurant I am royalty, but at Breakfast All the Time, a diner with 3.5 stars on Yelp and a B+ from the Health Department, I am at the bottom of the totem pole. The Western omelette taunts me, the blueberry waffles laugh at me. I come from a soggy plastic bag that’s been stuffed in the back of the freezer since the freezer was an icebox. You know the old joke about tying a pork chop around the kid’s neck to get the dog to play with him? They made the dog sniff me to induce vomiting after the kid gave it a chocolate bar.

  2. I cost seventeen dollars. 

  For seventeen miserable bucks plus tax and twenty-percent tip, you will enjoy a plate of unseasoned, simultaneously overcooked and undercooked, white chunks of sea meat artfully plopped on a bed of limp romaine that probably has e. Coli. While the rest of your table is slathering ketchup on their home fries, you’ll be choking down a piece of scallop that’s tougher than a rope and has the aftertaste of a penny. There is no winning when you order me, only losing your brunch. Turn the page and order the damn buttermilk pancakes.

  3. Why are you still looking at me?

  It’s rude to stare. Just get it together and order a sad lobster for all I care. As Gordon Ramsay might say, I am RAW on the inside. And not just from all the therapy to boost my self-esteem. I am quite literally, RAW. Our poor chef tries his best, but a semester of culinary classes at the local community college are no match for my prowess and weird smell if you leave me in boiling water for too long. Breakfast All the Time just isn’t equipped to handle something as difficult and delicate as me. Just ask the lobsters.

  4. You’ll never be the same.

  It was a cold morning in December of 2011. Olivia Johnson wanted to appear sophisticated to her high school friends she hadn’t seen in years. She turned to the last page of the menu, the page where the misfits of the diner hang out. Crab cakes, Kung Pao chicken, and of course, me.

  “I’ll have the scallops,” she said confidently.

  She was never the same. Some say she became a vegan and moved to a town in the middle of Montana with more moose than people. Others say you can still hear her screams if you hold a diner scallop to your ear.

  5. Have some self-respect. 

  Ordering diner scallops isn’t going to erase your problems. I have Vitamin B12, not magical powers. I can’t jumpstart your career, fix the weird noise your car makes when it goes over forty, or unsend the drunk texts you sent Alex on New Year’s Eve. But, I can save you from making the worst culinary decision of your life. For the love of the shrimp god Old Bay, have some self-respect.

  Look, I know my worth. I know that if we were at Eleven Madison Park, or some fancy French joint whose name Americans always butcher, this would be a very different conversation. But since I have had the misfortune of ending up at a diner in Mendham Park, New Jersey, I have made it my life’s mission to warn others before it is too late. Close the menu, order the BLT. I am on your team.

  Broiled beef liver? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I Am the Scallops in This Diner, and Here Are All the Reasons You Shouldn’t Order Me was originally published on Weekly Humorist

[observationsandimpressions-blog]

Beer

This is one of my favorite topics; I’m surprised it took me this long to get to it.  You see, I love beer.  The history is intriguing, the myriad styles encourage investigation, the dozens of different brewing techniques are fascinating, and you could spend your life tasting the tens of thousands of different beers out there.

That being said, I have yet to find a Wit beer I enjoy, sour beers taste as though someone vomited a perfectly good beer back into the glass, and the American commercial beers (Coors, Budweiser, Miller, etc.) are the merest glimmer of what I consider “beer”.

So why is American Commercial Beer (ACB) so popular?  Is it that the population is stupid?  Oh, don’t get me started there- that’s a whole different topic.  But it’s not just the American population!  I was in Newcastle upon Tyne a while ago, the home of a British Commercial Beer (BCB) called Newcastle Brown Ale.  The locals looked down their noses on their local BCB, but instead of going to a locally brewed small batch ale (CAMRA style- discussion below), they drank BUDWEISER out of a can!  Is marketing so strong that it can overwhelm peoples’ taste buds?  Is that why ACB is so popular, great advertising and marketing?  Do buxom babes in bikinis sway purchasing habits?  Oh hell yes.  

There might be something to this.  There’s a movement afoot in Britain called CAMpaign for Real Ale, CAMRA, and this group advocates the support of small local breweries to the point of going into pubs and asking that they serve the local guy’s output next to their BCB.  It’s had considerable success; there were few pubs I visited that didn’t have a “local” on draft.  CAMRA is the small guy marketing, I guess.

Sadly, in the U.S. the movement is for successful small guys to be bought out by the ACB guys, who then absorb the brand name and brewing style but change the recipe to reduce the cost and increase the profit.  One after another is being sucked up by the big guys or become Big Guys; in either case their product suffers, and ultimately so does the beer’s reputation and following.  I’m thinking of great little brands like Leinenkugel’s, Genesee, Fat tire, Lagunitas, Ballast Point, Goose Island, Kona, Blue Moon, etc.  The brand remains, the beer has changed.  There’s a big wave of microbrewery sell-outs right now; I’m saddened to realize that this microbrew revolution will soon become Corporate microbreweries and then Corporate Breweries, and then ACB.  The only salvation is that beer is very easy to brew, and any person with $300 and a little technique can get in.  Corporate Breweries may be trying to drink the ocean as they drink up these small guys…

But I digress a little bit, or perhaps I’m digressing now.  GOOD beers are meant to be tasted, enjoyed as much as a good glass of wine. Beer tasting is as much a habit as wine tasting, with similar technique.  Yes, you can do the “Sideways” thing of just grabbing the bucket and pouring it down your throat (this is one of my favorite scenes from that movie, or from ANY movie for that matter), but leave that for the Budweiser/Coors/Miller ACB’s in your life.  Wonder how to really taste a good beer?  Here’s how:

When you receive the beer, note its presentation.  It doesn’t matter a LOT, but beers from a bottle will generally have slightly higher alcohol content and a little bit of yeast at the bottom, whereas beer from a keg will be clearer throughout and have a wider range of carbonation, depending on the place you got it.  What temperature is it served at?  Temperature has a lot to do with flavor, so if you’re not drinking a lager, it should be served someplace above 4C (40F).  Lagers do best at 0-2C (32-35F).  Stouts are really delicious around 10-15C (50-60F).

OK, if it’s not poured into a glass, pour it.  Beer is meant to be poured to develop a head, so pour it into the bottom of the glass and let the head develop as you pour it.  Note the head as you pour, its color and consistency.  Is it thin and dissipate quickly?  Is it thick and look like merengue?  What color is it?  White, amber, brown?  What does it smell like?  There should be a noticeable smell to even the thinnest beer heads- fruity, malty, yeasty, piney, hoppy, alcoholic, bitter, coffee…  Give the head a good sniff and note the complexity that you pick up. The aroma comes from the hops, barley and yeast used, in that order.  

Then, lift the glass up to the light and look at the beer.  Note color- is it very light, amber, red, brown?  Is it clear or cloudy?  Can you see through it?  What is the carbonation like? Are there thousands of teeny bubbles rushing toward the surface (That’s a dead giveaway of a ‘nitro’ beer)?  Are there larger bubbles, languidly rolling up the inside of the glass?  What happens at the top of the beer?  Do those bubbles burst or persist in building up the head?  The color of a beer can go a long ways toward telling you about the style of beer it is, the types of malt and hops used.  The clarity will tell you a beer’s age, and perhaps indicate (if it’s cloudy) that there’s some wheat in the formula, so expect a sweeter beer.  

Now, take a sip. Don’t slam 100cc down your gullet just yet (we’ll get to that).  Roll it around in your mouth.  What does it feel like?  Does the carbonation bite your tongue?  Does the beer feel like its coating your mouth, like cream?  Does it feel like you could chew it?  That’s a characteristic of a beer’s body.  Now, taste it.  What notes does it have?  Hoppy? Malty? Yeasty?  Bitter? What other notes?  There are chocolate, fruit, honey, sweet, raisins, coffee, floral, piney, vanilla.  The flavors come from the malts, hops and yeasts selected for a given beer, and every beer is different.  Even the ACB’s are different from each other.

Here comes:  Take a mouthful.  Hold it in your mouth for a bit, then send it down.  Does the beer bite your throat as it goes down?  What’s the aftertaste?  Does it have one?  Does your mouth feel cleansed, or coated?  Different beers will have different character as you drink it; usually lagers leave your palate feeling cleansed, with a crisp flavor that bites a bit on the way down.  Heavier ales, especially those brewed with oats or lactose, will leave your palate feeling as though you’ve just had a creamy cup of coffee.  

Perform this ritual a few times with a few different beers and you will begin to be able to differentiate different hop characteristics, different malt styles, and even (if you get really good) be able to identify the brewery!  Stone brewery and the many Stone beers is a good place to start on this journey; their beers have a characteristic note in the nose and in the aftertaste that you can identify in every one of their beers.