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geckolady · 3 years

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Skulduggery Pleasant: Raising Cain - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Clues and progress

They got to the car they borrowed and had to call a taxi to help get them all back to Gordon’s. They decided to rest for a little while before heading out and Crow went upstairs to remove the body which would be collected by the Sanctuary Cleavers and then cleaned up what he could, Wolf helping him.

Panda sat carefully at the kitchen table, looking at her nervously try to think up something to eat. She could make little bits, her and Gordon had been learning things slowly as a way of spending time together and also so Gordon wouldn’t forget to make food as often, Stephanie would remind him to spend time with her. It made her chest ache for him for a moment. She still loved him, but he had set up everything so she could move on quickly and she intended to make him proud.

She found some rice, tinned tomatoes, passata, cheese and mozzarella after a while and after digging out the recipe from the messed-up folder they had created together. Panda helped her work out how much food they needed for six, then decided after a moment to add on another two portions considering they were all so big and they were all so hungry.

It took a while to make and she had had to replace some passata with tin tomatoes, which were meant to be fresh anyway, and there defiantly wasn’t enough mozzarella, but with cheese on top and the fact it was alright tasting and there was more than enough for everyone, she was the star of the night and everyone doted on her. She’d always thought cooking for people was boring, but they made it fun, and Panda had done all the onion chopping so it wasn’t too horrible.

When they had all finished the meal – Stephanie had forced Crow to sit with them – they all went their various ways to relax. They had made sure to have two on night duty as well as Crow at all times but Stephanie was not involved though she didn’t complain with that, as the others would also be doing washing, drying and putting away since she cooked.

She washed for a long time in the shower, finding a lot of bruise and feeling a lot more aches than she realised she had. There was a particularly big yellowing bruise on her butt cheek she had no idea about but it didn’t hurt and too soon she was out the shower and in her massive, fluffy towel. She took the old nail varnish off her toes and couldn’t be bothered to repaint them after filing so she finished up, including her teeth and putting away the things she’d used in the draws, although they had no real home so it wasn’t exactly organised.

She didn’t care though so she took her clothes back to her room with her towel around her. She was sort of embarrassed to get waved at by Weasel who was going into his room someway down the hall as she was used to sleeping on a whole different floor to Gordon and had even walked, quiet freely, from the bathroom to her room naked without fear of being spotted in the past. She wouldn’t be able to do that anymore, which was disappointing in a weird way. Walking around naked was fun.

She shook the strange thoughts from her mind and went to her room with her massive super king bed and beautiful sheets and all her pillows and throws in various colours and materials, some gifts from her friends, others artfully picked by Gordon. The four-poster had semi-transparent white curtains she always had the tied up. When she was younger they had been the best thing in the room.

She had a desk and fairly new computer though the monitor was the same one from years ago, possibly from before she was born, a desk that went across the span of the room held up with massive screws and brackets rather than legs, giving the allusion of a lot of space. She had a vanity and massive walk in wardrobe with custom shelves, hanging space and shoe space that had never been full but she still loved for the fact it was over the top and made her feel important.

She changed into new pyjamas and got under the covers. She slept soundly.

She had a vague dream of Gordon that night, nothing of importance, no particular event, but she dreamt of Gordon, her and her boys. That’s what she called them in her dream and as soon as she awoke, she remembered that and not much of the dream itself. She decided that was what they were. She was their girl and they were her boys, her bothers. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect name for them, but it was the feel more so than the name itself.

She didn’t bother changing from her shorts and massive t-shirt Gordon had handed down to her some years ago, just grabbed her Panda toy to show Panda and slowly rubbed her eyes and went downstairs.

They were all in the kitchen, Bear, Panda and Weasel mumbling over tea, Crow reading a newspaper and the others far too excited for the morning and making up a big meal for them all. Stephanie sat on Bears lap and he moved back to give her room and was in a good enough mood to even wrap one arm back around her so it rested on her opposite hip, basically hugging her. Such a big, bad man, so feared across the land, and here he was, grumpy, drinking black tea and cuddling her.

“Cub!” Wolf said when he turned around. He was wearing an apron that said ‘I’ve been a naught cook’ on it and started laughing. “What do you want for breakfast?”

She stifled her laughs. “Whatever’s going I guess.”

“A full Irish, coming up.”

“Well, not a full one,” Crow pointed out over his paper.

“No,” Snake agreed. “But it’s pretty close.”

Stephanie listened to them argue over breakfast and noticed she was the last down and only one that hadn’t gotten dressed. Looking at the clock, she noticed it was ten o’clock and they must have been waiting for her.

She was given her food not long after and when they had all eaten and she’d helped putting things in the correct place when it was washed, she ran and got herself ready for the day. Back in her protective clothes, she came back to the kitchen to reconvene and found them inspecting her Panda bear.

“Hey!” She said, making them jump. “Don’t touch my Pandy!”

Wolf put it in the middle of the table. “I just wanted to see Ghastly’s namesake is all.”

“Yeah, just curious,” Snake said.

“Which is totally allowed,” Weasel pointed out. “So don’t get mad.”

“Yeah, but this is special. It was made for me and it’s special and you can’t hurt it,” she told them. “Anyway, I wanted to show Panda.”

“He saw it earlier,” Crow said, coming in from the living room. “He said it brought back memories of the wild animals his father made for him as a child. I think he wishes he made you more now.”

“He made me tones of stuff. I have almost everything you ever got me upstairs. Even the nonsense stuff you gave me.”

“They weren’t nonsense,” Crow muttered and left the room. “We’re leaving in five so get ready.”

Stephanie put her old toy, which was quite beaten up but still cute, at the end of the table and they got into the Bentley and the van and made their way down to the coast.

They stopped near her aunt and uncles place and Stephanie looked out the window at the nice little house. It was deceiving, how quaint it looked considering how bad the people within it had been to her on occasion. She was hardly Harry Potter but she deserved a little better from them, at least.

“Can’t we just steal it? I want to break in,” she told them.

“Stop whining. You get to steal it now, just walk over, go in, steal it and leave. Done,” Crow told her.

“It’s not the same and you know it,” she said, but got out the car, accepting that she was about to embarrass herself greatly in front of everyone.

She knocked on the door and waited until Fergus opened it. “Oh,” he said.

“Yeah. I was wondering how you were?” She asked. It sounded more like she was questioning the question. She certainly was.

“Uh, we’re fine. How are you?”

“Grand, grand. Um, could I use your bathroom?” She blurted out, wanting to get it over with.

He looked at her suspiciously. “Why? What are you up to?”

She frowned meanly at him. “Nothing. I went for a walk at the coast, needed to pee and came here. Is that so bad?”

He made a grunt noise but let her in and she bolted up the stairs to the bathroom. She closed the door and then listened carefully, hearing him call Beryl’s name and her shout back from the kitchen. She crept from the bathroom to her Aunt and Uncles room and searched the jewellery box. She found it quickly, flushed the loo and ran down the stairs.

“Thank you!” She called and closed the door on her way out.

She walked at a normal speed until she was sure Beryl couldn’t spy on her and then ran to the car and got in.

“That was not fun. I hope you understand that.”

“I don’t,” Crow said. “Now let’s go.”

They travelled back to the mansion and found it thankfully clear of intruders. The basement only took a moment to search with all seven of them and they used the key to get in, Stephanie getting to do the honours. It smelt dank and wet and felt frigidly cold.

They couldn’t all go in as there were monsters within would sense their magic, so Stephanie, Crow and Wolf would enter and the others would stay behind to guard and keep them hidden since they didn’t know if Serpine knew of the caves yet and if it gave them a few moments to get the Sceptre’s alliance to them first, it would be the edge they needed.

It felt slow at first, being in the cavernous maze and just slowly wandering around, finding boring plants and fungus everywhere. She had been instructed not to touch any as it was as dangerous as the sentient things down there. Maybe more so.

Stephanie pulled out the little torch she had stashed away in her jacket and they used it to pass a little stream type thing, and to avoid a massive tendril that was moving silently and might have been a snake though she honestly couldn’t tell. They couldn’t use magic, so her torch was invaluable. When they heard noises up ahead she clicked it off and they pressed into the shadows, Wolf’s hand on her shoulder.

The monster passed them with slow, powerful sweeps of its paws – a single claw was bigger than her foot. They waited for it to go around the corner and Wolf let her go and they began running through the dark halls with the torch to help them. Eventually they stumbled across a Snickers wrapper.

“Gordon,” Stephanie said, almost welling with emotion but holding it back resolutely.

“A clue,” Crow said. “We’re on the right track.”

They carefully followed the cave system further down into the dark and they were relying solely on Stephanie’s light for guidance. They reached a large space at the end with three other corridors and an overhang above them. In the centre of the room was the Sceptre.

Crow carefully checked the air with his magic and then nodded to them. They had already decided that Crow should be the one to touch the Sceptre first since he had the most control and would be the hardest for Serpine to kill. He strode forwards and the thing started to sing. He picked it up. It… did nothing.

How anticlimactic.

“Boring,” Wolf said, stretching. “Time to go.”

They left the caves at a jog and Stephanie was incredibly surprised to find everyone above perfectly fine and healthy. They hadn’t even spotted cars around the walls. Bear said it was too quiet, but they were grateful nonetheless and sat around the living room to think of their next move, the Sceptre sitting innocently, and loudly, on the coffee table.

“It needs to be destroyed,” Bear said. “It has no place existing, especially now Serpine is after it.”

“It’s a valuable weapon though. It could be an asset in stopping Serpine,” Weasel suggested though didn’t seem too happy with it.

“I think we should destroy it as soon as Serpine is dead,” Crow said. “It is an asset, and if we could get it assessed first, prove its existence, we can kill Serpine without consequences.”

Wolf shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of destroying it, but it’s too dangerous.”

Panda nodded. “Dexter’s right. I know you want to be certain we can kill him Skul, we all do, but this isn’t the way.”

Stephanie put her hand on Crow’s gently. “It’s way too dangerous. We might not get another chance to destroy it and if someone else gets it, it’d be awful.”

He was quiet as he thought about it. “I suppose you are right. The risk is too great. But that means we need to know how to destroy it.”

Panda stood up. “I think it’s time I paid a visit to the family Vault. Who else wants to go?”

In the end, Panda, Stephanie and Crow decided to go to his family Vault while Bear went to the Sanctuary to try and convince the Elders of the Serpine’s actions. The others would stay where they were to guard the house and Sceptre. It was a fairly long drive to The Vault and on the way Panda and Crow explained a few things.

“The Vault is not a place that is gone in lightly or often,” Panda told her. “My family have collected things over centuries and I have only been in their twice myself. My mother didn’t even go in there as it was from my father’s side and they were always too protective over it.”

“Why are you bringing me and Crow then?”

“You’re family,” he said. “And that one won’t let me not take him.”

She laughed. “What stuff did they collect?”

He shrugged. “Mostly paintings, but they were very interested in the Ancients, which we told you about already, so hopefully they will have something in there that can tell us about destroying it.”

They got to the art gallery in good time and caught the guards before they were leaving, allowing Panda to show his documentation, though it was unnecessary since it was impossible not to recognise him, and they waited for them to open the massive metal door, and it was shut after them, so they could browse.

It wasn’t as big as Stephanie had assumed it would be, but it was still packed with things, all valuable looking. There was art everywhere, some of what she assumed was the most valuable on the walls, and cases of clothes, jewels, piles of books and a massive oval table and chairs in the centre though upon the surface was more things she couldn’t identify.

“Where do we start?” Stephanie asked.

“I’ll start over here,” Panda said, walking to one of the corners.

“You look at the paintings,” Crow told her. “If you find anything relating to the Ancients that might be useful, tell us.”

She nodded and got started on the nearest rack of paintings. They were very expensive and she did her best to handle them with care, the way Gordon had taught her when they had gone through his collection one time. Panda found some maps in his corner they thought could have been places the Sceptre might have been found at one time, though they had no way of checking since they had the Sceptre. They did put them carefully on a chair for photographs though, just in case there was more information about the Sceptre in those places. It must have been almost twenty minutes later that Stephanie found a picture of it.

“I found something,” she said. “But it’s just someone using the Sceptre, not anything about destroying.”

“Tell me about it,” Crow said, his voice muffled as he was bent straight over into a chest.

“It’s a man, and he’s reaching for the Sceptre. It’s sort of hovering just out of reach, and it’s glowing.”

“Is there anything strange about him?” Panda asked, looking through scrolls.

“Yeah… he’s shielding his eyes but they’re both wide open. He looks kind of crazed actually.”

“What does that mean?” Crow asked her, pulling himself from the chest.

“Well, you’d expect him to be squinting, you know? There’s so much detail, there’s no reason the painter wouldn’t make him squint.”

“Anything else strike you as odd?”

She looked it over again. “The shadows.”

“What about them?”

“There’s two. And the Sceptre isn’t making them, the angles are wrong. Maybe the sun?” She suggested as he came over to look too.

“Yes, but what time of day would it be?”

“The shadow at his feet would make it noon, making the sun overhead, but the shadow behind him would make it morning or evening.”

“Which one?”

“How am I meant to know?” She frowned at him, seeing he wasn’t looking at the painting at all, actually playing with a little box. “Maybe morning.”

“So, you are looking at a man who is reaching for the Sceptre in the past and present, seeing everything at once.”

“I suppose so. What does that have to do with the box you’re messing with?”

“Who painted it?” Crow asked. “Ghastly, get over here.”

“There’s a crest. Leopard and crossed swords,” she said.

He lifted the box and showed them the same crest. “Whoever, family or individual, made that painting, also made this Puzzle Box. People like to put things in Puzzle Boxes that might help us in our quest for information. It’s another clue, Stephanie.”

He played with it a little more and then rested it flat on his palm. It clicked and there was a high pitch motorising sound before the top opened and they saw a little blue stone inside.

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

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Writers Block Pt 3

It is my headcanon that West End Anne is subject to the exact same shit that poor Courtney Bowman was/is subjected to and nothing will change my mind on that.

Left alone, she’s breathing hard, shaking with emotion. Her eyes feel hot. The strips of paper crumple in her fists and one drops to the floor.

Seeing it there is both a pang and a relief.

When Anne comes back a minute later, she’s got a messy pile of mismatched pages in her arms- Cathy can just about make out Catalina’s elegant sloping script, Jane’s nearly-illegible scrawl, doodles of flowers and cats and dogs that are doubtless the work of Anna and Kitty.

Old copies of the script- of course they don’t need them now.

‘Here-’ With surprising gentleness, Anne takes the strips of paper from her hands and presses the stack against her chest instead- instinctively, Cathy takes it. ‘You look like you need to keep on with the tearing-up thing but…..’ She pauses. ‘I don’t want you to rip up anything that you might like need later so-’ She nods to the pages. ‘This is all stuff that was getting recycled anyway-’

Cathy just looks at her.

‘Go on-’ Anne tilts her head. ‘I’m sorry interrupted you- Just didn’t want you to have to spend the rest of the day taping stuff back up together…’

She has to bite back a bitter laugh at that. Anne clearly doesn’t realise how bad things are- does she not understand that Cathy has already failed at this?

When Cathy doesn’t move, she sighs.

‘Fine. I’ll help you get started but only because I know that if you don’t ride these things out to the end, it only comes back to get you later…’

(It makes Cathy wonder when Anne has ever experienced this sort of thing before- she’s certainly managed to miss it, but the thought that Anne maybe understands, at least in her own way, makes her feel slightly less embarrassed.)

With that, Anne snatches up a few sheets and starts shredding them enthusiastically.

After a moment, she pauses.

‘Go on. You have to do some too, or it’s just me making a mess. You obviously need to like break something...and trust me, Aragon and Jane will be super pissed if you just randomly start on something else in the house. Trust me.’

Through her haze, Cathy sort of wants to ask the details of this story. Except it’s not really the time.

‘Ok-’

She extends her hand and Anne gives her some pages, nodding encouragingly. She tears- tentatively at first and then with more abandon.

‘Feels good doesn’t it?’

She nods. It’s surprising just how satisfying it feels to give in and destroy something after so many days of trying desperately to hold herself together.

Of course, to really make it work, you need to shout as well.’ Anne says it very matter of factly, as if she’s telling Cathy that washing up really is easier when water is used.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Like this-’

Anne takes a few more pages.

(Cathy can just about make out several games of noughts and crosses and what looks like a scribbled out recipe with multiple crossings out, annotations and smudges that were either blood or dried tomato passata. Honestly, since the handwriting looks like Anna’s, she’s really not sure which it is.)

She raises them above her head dramatically before tearing them into tiny pieces.

‘Fuck you, bitch at the stagedoor who said you didn’t care about getting my autograph! Fuck you, man on the underground who kept staring at my tits! Fuck you, dog that woke me up barking this morning!’

She turns to Cathy. ‘Like that. Just shout out whatever you’re annoyed by and tear the something the fuck to pieces and you end up really like calm after. Anna taught me.’

She takes a few more sheets.

‘Fuck you, prick on insta who said my streams were boring! Fuck you, guy on twitter who keeps saying i need to go on a diet! Fuck you, everyone who keeps saying they like the alts better! -I don’t care who they prefer but do they really need to keep telling me?’ She adds in her normal tone.

Cathy feels a bit stunned. She actually had no idea people were doing that. God, Anne has kept it together well though- if people said that about her she can’t imagine how she’d be able to keep doing the show…

They’ll be saying stuff about you soon enough. Once you tell them you’re giving up.

She stamps the thought down as hard as she can.

‘...I’m so sorry….’

Anne’s smile wavers for a fraction of a second. ‘It’s all fine…’ She glances at the mess at their feet uncertainly. ‘Look, I know I said you have to join in but its ok if you don’t want to- I promise I won’t like make you or anything. I’ll even leave you in peace, if you still want.’

Cathy’s fit of angst has passed over a bit- at least, the moment is over- and now she feels like it would be a bit silly to indulge in a proper tantrum...but to turn Anne away now- now that she’s actually gone to some trouble to make Cathy feel ok about unburdening herself- it would just feel mean.

‘No…. it’s ok.’ She tries to smile- it’s not quite as hard as she had expected it to be. ‘I’m just not used to this sort of thing…’

‘Maybe you should try it more.’

‘Perhaps-’ She seizes her courage (and the very fact that she has to is embarrassing in itself- it’s not like she’s even doing anything that requires courage) along with a piece of paper (a series of notes from a single sheet being passed back and forth- she recognises her own handwriting along with what looks like Kitty’s), raises it up and takes a deep breath.

‘Sometimes, I hate writing.’

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #parrlyn

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ersatzangel · 3 years

Note

What did you last eat?

Spaghetti with passata and black olives

(I'm going to combine a bunch of these because I just realised I could do that and also put them behind a cut because it's long)

Do you bite your nails?

Yep! Or, more the skin around them

Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

No, I like sleep too much lol

Have any pets?

I'm not much of an animal person, so no pets for me!

Ever made out in the bathroom?

Haha, no, but I have been in the bathroom with friends who were? While others were taking ecstasy (I think? IDK some kinda drugs, I wasn't taking them I'm more or less ~straight edge) and someone was peeing lmao

What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

At school? English, probably! I got the highest grade in my year 12 English class (won a book voucher) by like .2 XD

What’s irritating you right now?

How much attention I'm craving D:

Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Oof, neither! I don't let go of things, unfortunately

How old were you when you had your first kiss?

...14? 15? Somewhere around there

Favourite food?

It was pizza before my stomach turned traitor and refused to digest lactose properly (I know I can take supplements and/or vegan cheese exists but...still)

What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

Read some fic, I think?

How many people have you fist fought?

I'd tell ya but then I'd have to kill ya!

Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 🍼

Not really! Not to me, anyway. I've got a perfectly serviceable name!

Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

My dad

What’s a big fear of yours?

That everyone secretly hates me

What’s a big pet peeve of yours?

Leaf blowers—they should be banned!

Have you ever stood up for someone else?

No, I don't think I've ever had the opportunity and I'm a coward anyway :\

Have you ever died and came back to life as a vampire?

*laughs nervously* No, what makes you ask that? It's only grape juice, I swear!

And that's all, folks! Thanks anon <333 (I skipped a couple I wasn't comfortable answering—they weren't inappropriate or overstepping, I'm just weird lol)

#long post #asks

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sosweetandfull · 4 years

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making gnocchi and listening to harry potter

ok ok, as ever, I started the year with such good intentions of keeping up a weekly log of things I’m eating/watching/reading/listening to/thinking about, but after one sad lil post I completely failed to do so!! I’ve done a lot of eating/watching/reading/listening/thinking this year, but just got a bit panicky about writing about it. I want to give it another go though, and this time seems apt for documenting. The lockdown means that I’m doing a lot more cooking/watching/listening/reading than usual, and maybe it would be nice to keep a sort-of diary of it.

Over the last nine weeks of lockdown we’ve kept up a steady routine of writing a food plan for the week and compiling a shopping list on Sunday evening, and then doing the week’s shopping on Monday morning. Generally, though, we run out of steam towards the end of the plan and have tended to leave Sunday’s dinner slot open as a wild-card/to-be-decided-nearer-the-time night. This week, we had potatoes from our veg box and some mozzarella, and time to spare, so after some initial panicky-total-mind-blank flapping, I landed on Gnochhi alla Sorrentina (gnocchi with tomato sauce and mozzarella). We’d made it a few weeks ago, with shop-bought gnocchi and the best tomato sauce I’ve ever made in my life, and had been craving it since.

I used this recipe: https://www.greatitalianchefs.com/recipes/gnocchi-alla-sorrentina-recipe but made a few small modifications. We only had a tin of chopped tomatoes rather than passata, but despite all of the google-search returns that shouted ‘YOU CANNOT SUBSTITUTE CHOPPED TOMATOES FOR PASSATA’, it worked absolutely fine. I added some water and squeezed in a lot of tomato paste and then blended with a hand-blender to smooth it out, and then simmered it down for half an hour or so. I added the olive oil and garlic as per the recipe, and a bit of pepper and (crucially) a generous amount of salt. I also added a pinch of sugar, a sprinkle of thyme, and a handful of chopped basil. And truly, despite my fears that it would come out a little watery, it was perfect.

The potatoes we had weren’t floury, and I used the hand-blender to mash them in lieu of a masher, so it came out like a very smooth, slightly waxy puree, which meant we had to add a fair bit more flour to get the dough to bind. In future I would also add a bit of salt to the dough. I was worried the gnocchi would come out a bit stodgy, but they were light, squishy, pillowy little round balls of delight. Last time we made this, when we used shop-bought gnocchi, we fried the gnocchi for a bit in some butter to get them slightly golden, which we were too impatient and hungry to do this time round, but I would recommend it. I’d also recommend squeezing some excess moisture out of the mozzarella before adding it to the dish. Don’t want to dilute that silky, creamy tomato sauce! Last time we made it we sprinkled some toasted pine nuts on top when serving. It was a nice touch for a bit of crunch and extra flavour, but honestly, I didn’t miss them this time round.

We listened to the last few chapters of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone whilst cooking, which has been providing truly truly perfect nostalgic comfort listening for the past couple of weeks. I’ve listened to the Harry Potter books on audiobook more times than I could possibly count. Hundreds of times. On car journeys and, most often, whilst falling asleep. I have books 1-5 on cassette tape (despite now no longer having any way of listening to them, having broken my ancient and beloved tape player a couple of years ago), and there’s at least one mysterious missing tape, and two where the tape has worn and snapped. I’ve felt a bit weird and cynical about Harry Potter for the last few years (people get really annoying about those books and I’ve had to mute JKR on twitter), but have had a really cosy, nostalgic time listening to the audiobook for the first time in years and years. It’s nice remembering why you once loved something and slipping back into the comfort of it.

Anyway. A soft, cheesy, tomato-y bowl of gnocchi and a nostalgic audiobook made for a very good, very Sunday-evening-ish match.

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keep-your-feet · 4 years

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WEEK 2 - COMPLETED

30th March - 5th April

Fair to say another successful week of isolating.

To be honest, I'm generally quite a loner and all I did in the week anyway was work, cook/eat dinner and walk the dog. So because I'm still doing this I'm ok. And my anxieties have reduced dramatically since the government out the lock down in place.

The weekends are a little different, but not much. There's so many things Ive been wanting to get down around the house I just keep focusing on the positives of planing these in and having some well deserved chill time.

We are going to miss camping in the van dramatically.. and our long country side walks and adventures we had planned for this year.. but I keep telling myself it won't be forever and to focus on the now. And right now it's vital we all do our bit and stay indoors. We even joked about having a night in the van on the drive just for a laugh 💚

This week however I wasn't able to wear make up due to an eczema flair up on my eye lid and then a reaction under my eyes also - which is strange as I've never really suffered with eczema before.. and I've not changed products or anything!

Although when all this first kicked off in China I was panic washing my hands and buying antibac (yes I was panic buying (got 3 small bottles) before it even got to the UK! and I'm so glad I did as there was none left by time it had reached us!) I got a bad flair up on my hands, to the point where they were bleeding... (This was also due to the cold weather). The pharmacy gave me some cream that wasn't supposed to sting when applying however they were so sore is did for the first few days! Soon cleared up, and it's a lot better now I've started wearing gloves also! I used this on my face and it's seemed to of calmed it so fingers crossed!

Whilst we're on health things... Gosh my IBS is all over the shop! I thought I was just starting to get to grips with what my triggers were and now I'm back to square one... Just looking at bread and the the thought of food makes my stomach gurgle and 'drop' shall we say! And I've been so anxious about running out of food I've not really been eating much! Think I've lost about 2kg these last two week!

Dave went out last weekend though and got majority of fresh stuff, and he's off out now too doing the weekly shop. I'm hoping there's going to be passata and mixed beans etc back on the shelves soon, which will then relax me into being able to eat what we have in. I'm definitely glad we did a big stick up before we went on holiday to Whitby middle of march before the lockdown and panic buying started!

The weather wasn't as nice this week, but Puppa still behaved herself.. we've learnt she likes to 'peep' out the window ❤️

Work went well also, team meetings, phone calls and banter all on slack. Although, fair to say the general 'chit chat' is slowing down.

Dave's had to go out once a day every day this week, which makes me nervous. But it can't be helped with his line of work. This week hearing him on the phone and seeing what he has to deal with has really put things into perspective as to how fortunate we really are and I'm so proud of all the effort and work he's doing to makesure other people are ok ❤️

So my top tip/what got me through this week?

Plan a head!

Focus on the now

Appreciate the little things

As I mentioned in my first post, I love lists and I always plan things!! So one thing that's helping me get through this is making a list of the things I want to do, and then planing a head to makesure we can do them. For example, we want to clean the decking, bins, cars, patio etc and usually we'd borrow my mum's jet wash, but as we can't we've bought one! And we're currently thinking of other things we need to buy ahead ready for next weekend. I've just found out that super girl, flash and arrow are back on NowTV which has made my day! And I got a 'text' message from my car telling me that it's turning off its remote settings due to not using it for a while which I thought was super clever!

They may all be small things, but it certainly does help lift your mood when your being grateful for the little things!

Over the next week or so, keep a look out on my Instagram page as I'll be sharing some 'lists to take on the world' story templates 👌

@when_we_wander

#wwwkeepyourfeet #week2inlockdown #wecandothis #together

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bethanlovesfood · 4 years

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Slow-cooker Chilli-ish

When we have minced beef, we have bolognese. Sometimes, I try something different, but the youngest isn’t keen on ‘fizzy’ food and won’t eat kidney beans (or any apart from baked beans). They’re both pests with onion too.

Soooo, may I introduce a chilli (ish) dinner, which my kids are always happy with. It may not be authentic, but it ticks enough boxes and tastes yummy. The sweet chilli sauce, gives a mild kick and sweetness. The sweetcorn goes perfectly and is a more than reasonable substitute for kidney beans. I use a lot of garlic! Especially at the moment, as it’s so good for fighting off bugs. The kids never moan about the heat from it, as it’s not like a chilli heat. Much more mellow. Also, I am not a member of the ‘salt police’ and I do use some in my cooking. My favourite way to prepare the garlic is to mash it with a good pinch of rock salt, using the back of my knife. It really helps to crush the garlic perfectly and you waste none, unlike in a crusher. It takes a few minutes, but it’s well worth it. It also means that there’s no need for a stock cube, which would be just as much salt anyway!

500g lean mince beef

1 carton of passata

1 large onion

1 large carrot

1 celery stick

4 (at least!) large cloves of garlic, crushed

1 table spoon of sweet chilli sauce

1 large tin of sweetcorn

1 level tablespoon of paprika

1 teaspoon of ground coriander

1 teaspoon of ground cumin

1 cinnamon stick or a teaspoon of ground cinnamon

First things first, disguise the vegetables! I whizz them up in the processor.

Not into a mush, but small enough to mix into the meat and sauce.

In a little oil, fry the beef for a few minutes, until brown. Add the spices and the processed vegetables. Mix well and gently cook for a few minutes, stirring regularly.

Stir through the passata, garlic and chilli sauce and then the sweetcorn. Combine well and bring to a simmer, before tipping into a slow cooker. I keep mine on low and leave to cook away all day, but it can be ready more promptly, if needs be. If you’re not using a slow cooker, ensure the chilli is in an oven-proof dish/pot, cover it and cook in a very low oven (I use gas mark 2/3) for at least two hours.

And here it will sit an bubble until six o’clock tonight. 😊

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wholesomebellies · 2 years

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Pumpkin and Cashew Cream Sauce

Growing up in an Italian family, with my mum as a chef in our family restaurant, this pasta dish was on repeat. It was an absolute hit at the restaurant. Our family restaurant was called Arrivederci (my brother actually still carries on the family business). Anyway, back to this dish! People would come from all over just for “Spaghetti alla Zucca”. And it was always served in this entire pumpkin.

I too was obsessed with it – such a simple recipe with a few key ingredients. But the way my mum made it – wow, it just screamed love and simplicity.

Every time I make it now, it takes me right back to those happy days back at the restaurant – it’s like a warm hug from mum.

Back then, I wasn’t plant-based so this cream had dairy cream in it! And like most of my mum’s traditional dishes, I’ve veganised this using cashew cream! And honestly, it’s so incredible.

I hope you enjoy this dish as much as I do. And I hope when you eat it, it feels like a warm hug too!

Prep time: 5 minutes

Cook time: 25 minutes

Total time: 30 minutes

Serves: 4

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil

5 cloves of garlic, crushed

2 cups grated pumpkin (approx 400 grams)

1 to 2 tablespoons water

1 bottle of tomato passata

1 fresh birds eye chili

1 teaspoon salt

CASHEW CREAM

1 cup raw cashews (soaked for up to 2 hours or boil for 20 minutes)

3/4 cup water

Pinch salt

2 tablespoons lemon juice

Method

· Saute garlic in fry pan until starting to brown.

· Cook the grated pumpkin in the garlic and oil until it softens - this will take about 10 minutes. Whilst cooking add the 1 to 2 tablespoons water as needed to keep the pumpkin moist (or you could add more olive oil)

· Add chili and salt to the pumpkin and once the pumpkin has completely softened add the tomato passata. Stir and then simmer on low for about 15 minutes.

· Then make your cashew cream by blending your soaked or boiled cashews with water, lemon juice and salt until completely smooth - this is important as you don't want any texture in your cashew cream.

· Then add your cashew cream to your sauce and simmer on low heat for 2 - 3 minutes.

· Stir through your favourite pasta or even zoodles. YUM!

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cherieofthedragons · 7 years

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In Which Blackwall Somehow Manages Not to Kill His Coworkers

A Knight Shop AU fic

So yes, the Knight Shop AU. Which involves so many people that I’m afraid I’m going to forget some. @trulycertain, @aphreal42, @sarcasmfish, @celeritassagittae, Tru’s mum, um... tell me who else and I’ll add them. It’s brilliant and so much fun.

It’s a modern-ish AU, basically Thedas/modern England, in which there exists a shop where one can hire knights. A knight shop. Hence the name. Typically, knights are hired to do odd jobs, attend social events, act as bodyguards, etc. etc. And many of our favorite Dragon Age characters are knights-for-hire.

The first chapter of Blackwall/Mirevas ridiculousness is here. Huge thanks to Tru and Aphreal for use of their characters and contributions to the writing.

“She’s absolutely brilliant, you know.”

Blackwall sighed and set down his magazine, bracing himself for more lovesick rambling about the accomplished young lady Alistair refused to admit he had fallen for. Blackwall should have known he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on transmission schematics when Alistair was on duty with him.

“I’ve never seen anyone who fights like her.” Alistair’s voice was dreamy as he scribbled in the margins of the ledger. Josephine was not going to be happy when she saw he’d doodled in her official paperwork. Again. “She spent all of yesterday teaching me all of the moves from the guy who beat her last time, so that if I learn to fence like him, she can practice against me-as-him and beat him next season. She’ll probably win the whole thing then. I told you she placed third this year, right?”

“Once or twice,” Blackwall said drily. In point of fact, Alistair couldn’t seem to shut up about it. Every time he was in a room with Blackwall, he found something new about his lady to rave about. And the tournament had been nearly a month ago.

At first, Blackwall was genuinely impressed. In his time in competitive fencing, he’d seen a handful of women qualify to compete in men’s tournaments, but he’d never heard of one placing so highly. Alistair’s lady was clearly a skilled fencer, and the boy had every right to be proud of her.

But being proud was one thing. Sharing the depth of his pride with every person he could corner into listening was another. Blackwall had retired from fencing nearly a decade ago, and for good reasons. He simply couldn’t maintain the obsessive level of interest in fencing he’d had when he was younger. And no one could maintain Alistair’s level of obsessive interest in this particular fencer.

Alistair prattled on, oblivious to the ever-increasing exasperation of his one-man audience. “I was able to copy the bloke’s remise pretty easily, once she showed me all the steps he’d used. Don’t ask how she remembered them all, by the way, because I have no idea how she can perfectly copy a set of attacks made against her one time weeks ago. I mentioned she’s amazing, didn’t I?”

“Once or twice,” Blackwall said again. As far as he could tell, it was Alistair’s favorite adjective when it came to his lady.

“The passata sotto took longer to get right.” Alistair winced, and Blackwall smirked into his beard at that typical novice reaction to a move that relied on a controlled crouch. “A lot longer. My legs are going to be sore for a week, at least. But she’s such a patient teacher, and I eventually got it, and then…”

The recitation was cut off by the shrill ring of the shop phone.

“Thank the Maker…” Blackwall moved to answer it, eager to hear any other conversation at this point, even if it was someone calling to complain. Or the persistent woman who kept insisting they stage some sort of joust for her son’s birthday party and refusing to accept it was not possible. Where would they even get and train the horses for that, much less transport them across town?

But Alistair was closer, and he grabbed the phone before Blackwall could get to it. “Knight Shop, how can we help?”

He paused, listening, then glanced at Blackwall. “Sure, let me just take a look at the rota.” Quickly, he flipped open the scheduling book. “Ah, sorry--Mirevas, was it? Blackwall is booked on Friday evening. Would you like someone else--”

Blackwall’s heart jumped into his throat. He sprang up from his seat, waving his hands wildly.

Alistair frowned. “Er--hang on a minute.” He pressed the mute button. “What?”

“I want this job,” Blackwall hissed.

The other knight raised an eyebrow. “But you’re already booked. Mrs. Renfrow.”

Blackwall grimaced. Mrs. Renfrow was a seventy-year-old woman who hired one of the knights to move heavy furniture around her house every week -- and then, unfailingly, decided she wanted it back the way it was and snapped at the knight for changing it. She had a nasty temper and a terrible superiority complex, and every single one of them hated working for her.

“Cover for me,” Blackwall begged.

Alistair let out a bark of laughter. “No way. I did it last week. It’s your turn.”

“Please. I’ll take your next turn.”

“Uh-uh. Friday’s my day off, and I have plans.”

Blackwall was getting desperate. “You can have the fee for both jobs.”

Alistair’s eyebrows went up.

Blackwall gritted his teeth. “Please.”

With an immense sigh, Alistair crossed his arms. “You’ll take my next two turns.”

Blackwall bobbed his head in agreement.

“And cover for me on Monday.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And--”

Blackwall growled in frustration. “Alistair.”

Alistair put up his hands in surrender, clearly aware that he’d pushed his luck to the limits. “All right, all right. I’ll do it. My plans are earlier in the day, anyway. Keep the fee for the second job.”

His plans were --

Blackwall glared at Alistair. He didn’t have plans at that time at all. He’d tricked Blackwall into--

Alistair held out the phone quickly. “Er, you’ll take this, then?”

Furious, Blackwall snatched it from his hand, then took a deep, calming breath. He didn’t want to sound angry when he spoke to Mirevas. When his breathing was even, he jabbed a finger at the mute button. “Hello. Mirevas?”

“Blackwall!” The golden tones of Mirevas’s voice were music to his ears. “Hello!”

“Hello.” He’d said that already. “Er--I understand you wish to request my services on Friday evening, my lady?”

“I do, yes. My artwork is being featured in a gallery show, and the opening is on Friday. I thought maybe -- if you were available -- well, I don’t think anyone else there will have a knight on their arm.”

Ah. So it was the novelty of bringing a knight that she wanted, not Blackwall himself. He pushed down his disappointment. It was a job, nothing more. Beautiful young women did not notice middle-aged men like him.

But--she’d asked for him specifically. She could have asked for Gal; she knew him better, after all. That meant--that had to mean--she wanted to see him. Blackwall.

“I would be honored to be on your arm, my lady.”

“Always a gentleman.” He thought he could hear the smile in her voice, and he closed his eyes and imagined it. “The opening begins at six and goes until ten. It’s at The June Gallery. Should we--do you want to meet there? Maybe fifteen minutes early, before the guests start to arrive?”

“Your wish is my command.”

Mirevas chuckled. “Right. Good. I’ll, ah, print the contract from your website, shall I? And...I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I, my lady.”

“Goodbye, then.”

“Farewell.”

The line disconnected. Blackwall opened his eyes and gently set the phone back in its cradle.

“Does she fence?”

Blackwall turned to face Alistair. “What?”

Alistair tilted his head. “The lady. Does she fence?”

“No.” Blackwall didn’t even try to hold back his exasperation.

“And she’s worth two weeks of Mrs. Renfrow? Even though she doesn’t fence?” Alistair’s teasing smirk made Blackwall’s jaw clench, and with his usual instinct for recognizing a line right after he’d crossed it, Alistair quickly changed the subject. “So about the passata sotto…”

Blackwall put his head in his hands.

When he saw Mirevas the next day, he was completely caught off-guard. It was Wednesday; he had two days until the art gallery. Two days to spend every waking hour daydreaming about her, or so it seemed. Somehow, he couldn’t manage to think of anything else. Two days. Just a little over 48 hours, now. And then he’d have four whole hours in her presence.

He sat on a stool behind the shop counter and tried to follow the debate about music, but with little luck. Any other time, he would have had plenty to say about the merits of heavy metal as compared to the traditional jazz Gal’s Tevinter client was raving about. But Erren seemed to have the matter well in hand, and Blackwall knew that if Gal or Cassandra decided to join in, he’d likely approve of what they said. So Blackwall’s mind kept floating away, going back to--

Mirevas.

Mirevas was stepping through the door.

For a moment, Blackwall thought he was still imagining her. But no, she was there. In the flesh. Physically standing before him. Her eyes scanned the shop, then focused on him.

Maker’s breath, this was real. He all but lurched off his stool, coming round the counter to greet her.

“Hello, Blackwall.” Mirevas smiled. Maker, he loved the way his name sounded on her lips. The two syllables had never been so beautiful.

“My lady.”

He couldn’t think of what to say next. Her brown eyes blinked as she tilted her head up to look at him, and Blackwall became aware of exactly how huge he was. Andraste’s ass, he had to be a foot taller than her. Suddenly his body seemed to take up entirely too much space.

As Mirevas continued to look up at him, Blackwall realized that he was staring at her silently like an idiot. Quickly, he tried to pull his thoughts together. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, my lady.”

“Oh.” Mirevas looked down at her hand, and he realized she held a folded-up paper. “I thought I should come in and drop off the contract.”

Somewhere in the background, Blackwall dimly registered that music had started coming out of the break room.

“The contract, yes, of course.” Maker’s balls, he was a bloody git. “Thank you.”

Mirevas bit her lip. “I suppose I should have just emailed it to the shop.”

Lyrics began floating out to him. You catch his eye from across the room, you catch his eye…

“Not at all,” Blackwall said. “I’m--I’m very glad to see you, my lady.”

You think, oh my, he’s got quite the beard, oh my…

Blackwall’s head jerked up.

And now you want to but you can’t look away. His beard is black and bushy with a hint of grey…

Horrified, he turned back to see Erren standing next to the break room door looking entirely too casual.

And now you find yourself walking his way...

“Excuse me a moment--”

Without waiting for an answer, Blackwall lurched in the direction of the music, just in time to hear the song continue with the words, Hey hey, you should consider having sex with a bearded man!

Fucking hell, he was going to murder Erren.

You’ve got these feelings that you can’t understand, sex with a bearded man!

He banged through the door and lunged for the music player.

You think you can’t, but you can! Don’t try to fight, just get freaky with a beard tonight!

Desperately, Blackwall jabbed at the stop button, and the music thankfully cut off.

He slumped over in relief, but it was short-lived. Andraste’s fucking tits, how much of that had Mirevas heard?

He growled. Erren was going to regret the day she was born.

With barely controlled rage, Blackwall emerged from the break room, his eyes settling on Erren where she still stood, leaning against the wall. He took a step towards her.

Erren glanced at a non-existent watch on her wrist. “Look at that, it’s time for my break!” she trilled. With that, she darted for the front door and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Blackwall took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Later. He’d deal with her later. Right now he had to face Mirevas again.

Dear Maker, what would she think?

“...and I was thinking about what I could do on my other calf. Something to set off the work you’ve already done. I’m not sure what’d work best. Do you have any ideas?”

That was Gal. Blackwall looked over to see him standing next to Mirevas, who was nodding with interest.

“I could put together some sketches using the themes we’ve been discussing. You’re wanting to complete what you have into more of a coherent whole?”

“Exactly. I’d love to see what you’d come up with.”

Blackwall realized what was happening, and he wanted to kiss Gal. Which was not something he’d ever thought to want. But Gal had saved him. He’d distracted Mirevas with tattoo talk to keep her from noticing that horrible song. A weight lifted from Blackwall’s shoulders. All was not lost.

Gal glanced over at Blackwall. “You have business to take care of?”

“Indeed.” Blackwall pulled himself together as best he could and approached Mirevas once more. She stepped towards him, smiling that smile that always did him in.

“This is for you, then,” she said, holding out the paper.

“Thank you, my lady.” He reached to take it from her, and as she put it in his hand, her fingers touched his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Had she done that on purpose? He hoped she’d done that on purpose.

He didn’t want to take his eyes off her, but if there was anything he’d learned from the last time he’d accepted a job with her, it was that he ought to be prepared. So he unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly, satisfying himself that there was nothing unexpected in this particular contract. A social obligation at an art show. It seemed simple enough. A Friday evening spent with the most magnificent woman he’d ever been lucky enough to lay eyes on. There was nothing he wanted more.

Mirevas tucked a strand of black hair behind a long, pointed ear. “Does everything look all right?”

“Perfect.” Blackwall set the paper down on the counter. “I shall count the seconds.”

Too much, it was too much. He shouldn’t say such things. She’d come seeking professional services, not a date. But Mirevas just ducked her head with a grin. “Such chivalry,” she said. “I look forward to it, too.”

She looked up at him once more, her piercing gaze locking him in place. For a moment, he thought he saw something in those dark eyes. Something...something…

Then she nodded and turned away, crossing to the door. With one last glance in his direction, she stepped outside, and he watched through the window as she walked quickly away.

Blackwall let out a breath and realized how wobbly his knees had become. He leaned his weight against the counter and tried to calm the fluttering of his heart.

“You’re going to her gallery opening, then?” Gal said.

Blackwall nodded.

“A gallery opening?” The Tevinter client -- Blackwall thought he’d heard him called Dorian -- squinted at him in undisguised scrutiny. “Is that...a common sort of job for you?”

Blackwall frowned at the man. “Not exactly.”

“I hadn’t thought so. No offense, but you look the sort one hires to lift heavy objects, that sort of thing.”

He bristled. “I can handle myself at an art gallery.”

“Of course you can,” Dorian said smoothly. “Tell me, what are you intending to wear?”

Blackwall opened his mouth to reply and found himself stuck. What was he going to wear?

The Tevinter nodded smugly. “That’s rather what I thought.”

Blackwall was caught between anger and despair. He would be fine at an art gallery. He would wear--erm, he would wear--

“Fear not.” Dorian stepped forward and patted Blackwall once on the arm. Blackwall’s answering glare caused the man to take a step back, but he continued in a patronizing tone, “I can help.”

“I don’t need help.”

The Tevinter ignored him. “You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, but you don’t want to look like a prat, either. Do you have anything in brocade?”

Blackwall glowered at the man.

“No, of course you don’t.” Dorian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You may need to make a shopping outing. A waistcoat, perhaps. Double-breasted. Yes, with an ascot. Very nice.”

Blackwall tried to picture himself in a double-breasted waistcoat and ascot, and immediately shook his head. “No.”

Dorian tilted his head. “Not an ascot? No, I suppose that might be a bit pretentious. Well, for you, anyway. A jauntily-tied scarf may be a better choice.”

In frustration, Blackwall looked towards Gal, who looked back at him blankly and shrugged.

At that moment, Cassandra made a disgusted noise, and all three of them turned to look at her. They’d entirely forgotten she was in the room.

“Wear a blazer,” she said. “And dress slacks. With a button-down shirt in a nice color. That will be enough.”

The Tevinter frowned. “I suppose, if you don’t want to be creative--”

“I don’t,” Blackwall interrupted.

“It’s better that you’re not.” Cassandra folded her arms. “You’re not an artist. You don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself. It may work for some--” she glanced at Dorian “--but it’s not for the uninitiated. No. Blazer, trousers, shirt. Top button undone. That’s all.”

They all blinked at her for a moment.

She huffed. “If there’s one thing you learn as a child in the Pentaghast household, it’s how to dress for social events. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to discuss with Josephine.” With that, she stepped past them all, knocked on the office door, and entered, closing the door behind her.

The three men looked at each other. Then Gal turned to Dorian. “We should go,” he said. “If you want me to sort out those shelves today.”

“Yes, yes,” Dorian answered in distraction, and followed Gal to the exit. Just before he left, Dorian looked back over his shoulder. “Cornflower blue,” he told Blackwall. “For the shirt. It will bring out your eyes.”

Then the door closed behind him, and Blackwall was alone.

Cornflower blue. Surreptitiously, Blackwall examined his reflection in the glass window. Hmm.

He’d think about it.

The song: “You Should Consider Having Sex With a Bearded Man”, by the Beards, from the album Having a Beard Is the New Not Having a Beard. It’s not exactly what I’d call an explicit song, but it’s not innocent either, so listen at your own risk.

Continuing on: Chapter 3 - In Which Blackwall Is Not Dalish

#knight shop au #blackwall #mirevas lavellan #dragon age au #trulycertain #aphreal42 #cherie writes things #mentions of sex sort of ?

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starstruckcloudgalaxy · 4 years

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Another sunny Sunday in, and here are another seven pasta sauces for a whole week to keep you busy, dear friends, and fed! Ingredients are again for four people, but the sauces are all ideal for warming up the next day if you’ve got any leftovers.

By the way, there was a news item yesterday about a shortage of tinned tomatoes because everybody is starting to do pasta sauces at home now – well, actually it’s better to use FRESH tomatoes for tomato sauces, that’s how most housewives back in Italy do it, anyway!

Asparagus and broccoli sauce

250g asparagus, 250g broccoli, 300ml milk, 20g flour, 30g butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, parsley, olive oil; 250-300g pasta, parmesan

Extremely healthy and extremely tasty, this Italian veggie classic is so simple and yet so ingenious: first, prepare a bechamel sauce by heating up the butter in a pot, then adding the flour while whisking rigorously, then slowly and carefully adding the milk. Turn down the heat, add salt, pepper, nutmeg and parsley and keep whisking until the sauce is consistent, then let it simmer for 10-15 minutes. (A tip: you can also get a ready mixture powder for a bechamel sauce from the supermarket and follow the instructions on the packet…)

Cut the broccoli into bite-sized chunks and fry together with the asparagus (fresh or from a tin) in oil for about 5 minutes; meanwhile, start cooking the pasta. Add the broccoli and asparagus to the bechamel sauce and stir well; serve the pasta in bowls with the sauce and – as always – some parmesan on top.

Carbonara sauce

300g bacon (or ham), 200g mushrooms, 300ml milk, 20g flour, 30g butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, parsley; 250-300g pasta, 200g grated cheese

Popular with both kids and grown-ups, this all-time classic is both very tasty and very nutritious. Again, prepare a bechamel sauce just like in the previous recipe (butter, flour and milk, salt, pepper, nutmeg and parsley – or the ready mixture from the supermarket), but this time add sliced bacon (or ham, if you prefer it with less calories) and mushrooms (preferably from the tin). Simmer for 10-15 minutes while the pasta is cooking.

Top the pasta with the sauce and, while it’s still really hot, a generous amount of grated cheese of the sort that melts immediately (like cheddar, edam or gouda).

Beef and tomato sauce

500g cubed beef (or 1 small cut chicken), 1 onion, 2 tomatoes, 250g passata, allspice, cloves, salt, pepper, olive oil; 250-300g pasta, 200g grated cheese

This is a Greek Sunday favourite called ‘kokkinisto’ in Greece because of the very red sauce (kokkino means red). It’s basically a meaty variation of the classic pomodoro sauce (which you can look up in my previous sauce post), seasoned with the typically Greek ingredients allspice and cloves. If you can get those two whole dried, your kokkinisto will look and taste REALLY Greek! Tip: instead of beef you can also use a cut chicken – cheaper and maybe even more delicious…

Chop the onions and fry them in oil, then add the cubed beef (or the chicken). Chop the tomatoes and add them together with the passata and the spices. Now this one’s a slow cooking recipe, so you’ll have to calculate at least 2 hours of simmering (or 1 if you’re using chicken). You don’t really have to do anything during that time, though, except add some water and stir every 15-20 minutes! And yes, in case you’ve been following my previous recipes, it’s actually quite similar to a Hungarian goulash…

After about 1 ¾ hours (or 45 minutes if you’re doing chicken), start cooking the pasta. Keep stirring the sauce until the pasta is ready to serve, and top with a big handful of grated cheese!

Bolognaise sauce

500g mincemeat, 1 onion, 1 tomato, 250ml passata, salt, pepper, paprika, parsley, mint, olive oil; 250-300g pasta, parmesan or other grated cheese

Probably the most famous of all spaghetti sauces, this mincemeat sauce originated around Bologna and made its way literally around the whole world. It’s very easy to do, quick and cheap and tasty, and simply everybody loves it! So, chop the onion and fry with the mincemeat in oil, then chop the tomato and add it together with the passata and 50-100ml water; season with salt, pepper, paprika, parsley and a tsp of sugar. My personal tip is to add a dash or two of dried mint to give the sauce a special… something!

While the sauce is simmering, cook the pasta; both should be ready after about 10-15 minutes. The classic way of topping spaghetti Bolognaise is, of course, parmesan, but you can also use any other sort of grated cheese that melts easily!

Courgette (or aubergine) sauce

4 courgettes (or aubergines), 1 tomato, 250ml passata, parsley, dill, salt, pepper, olive oil; 250-300g pasta, 200g grated cheese

This is a pasta sauce from Turkey for a change; the classic version is done with courgettes, but you can also use aubergines or a mix of both! Cube the vegetables and fry them in oil for 5 minutes, then chop and add the tomato, parsley and dill (both fresh if possible), salt and pepper and the passata and about 100ml water and simmer for 15 minutes; meanwhile, cook the pasta.

Serve with a big load of grated cheese on top – another great veggie favourite!

Crabmeat and ham sauce

250g crabmeat, 150g ham, 150g spring onions, 2-3 cloves garlic, 300ml milk (or cream), 100ml white wine, 20g flour, 30g butter, salt, pepper; 250-300g pasta (fettucine), parmesan (optional)

Now let’s move on to another part of the world and something really exotic – this is an old Cajun recipe from Louisiana that gives an entirely new kick to the old pasta… Tip: the favourite pasta sort of Cajun cooks is fettucine!

If you’ve ever done any Cajun recipes, you’ll know that they almost all start with the instruction: ‘cook a roux’… A roux is basically nothing else but the basis for a bechamel sauce, so like in our first two recipes here we heat up the butter and add the flour while whisking; then, when the roux has turned a nice golden brown colour, we add the sliced spring onions and the chopped garlic, the ham and the wine and salt and pepper, and let it simmer for 10 minutes. Only after that we add the milk (if you don’t mind the calories, you can also use cream) and the crabmeat and let it simmer for another 10 minutes while our pasta is cooking.

Serve with or without parmesan – and since you’ve already opened that bottle of white wine, you might just as well have the rest of it with your dinner…

Prawn and sausage sauce

250g prawns (cooked), 250g andouille (or other pork sausage), 1 tomato, 1 onion, 1 stem celery, 1 green bell pepper, 1 red chilli, 2 cloves of garlic, 250ml passata, ½ chicken stock cube, salt, pepper, Cayenne pepper, basil, olive oil; 250-300g pasta (fettucine), parmesan (optional)

Another exotic Cajun recipe with a most piquant taste of seafood and sausage, this sauce is much easier to do than it might seem at first considering the large number of ingredients. You start out by chopping/slicing the onion, the tomato, the celery, the chili, the bell pepper and the garlic; then you throw it all into a big pan with oil and fry it thoroughly. Slice the andouille and add it together with the passata, the stock cube, 200ml water, salt, pepper, Cayenne pepper and basil, and simmer for 15 minutes; meanwhile, cook the pasta.

Add the prawns, simmer on for another 2-3 minutes, and pour over the pasta. Now I confess that I’m of the Italian style conviction that parmesan goes with simply EVERYTHING from soup to meat and, of course, especially any sort of spaghetti sauce, but in this case it’s of course optional since the original Cajun recipe doesn’t mention any cheese. Still…

In any case, enjoy your cooking, dear friends, and don’t be afraid to bring in your own ideas, too! And if you have one connected to pasta sauces, please tell me; I’m always eager to learn new tricks in the kitchen…

Roberta’s Recipes: Seven more delicious pasta sauces Another sunny Sunday in, and here are another seven pasta sauces for a whole week to keep you busy, dear friends, and fed!

#Cajun Cuisine #Cooking #Food #Fun #Greek Cuisine #Home #Italian Cuisine #Lifestyle #Lockdown #Pasta #Recipes #Sauces #Stay Home

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matteo-pitzalis-blog · 5 years

Text

EDEN

Lo sfondo è nero con ghirigori di vari colori e il titolo è bianco. Musica introduttiva.

Something isn't right today. You don't know what it is. But you do have a feeling. <<

La storia comincia con qualcosa che non va e non sappiamo nulla. Ho solo una scelta da fare e clicco su di essa.

You have this strange and eerie feeling SOMETHING is going to happen, but you have no idea what it is. That is, until.... <<

L’atmosfera è molto misteriosa e incute una forte ansia. Anche qui devo cliccare sulla frase per capire cosa sta succedendo.

That is until your supervisor shows you the lab's new specimen. "We're not sure what it is," he says. "But it can't be human." You take a look. <<

Si viene a scoprire che si sta lavorando su una materia misteriosa e che non è affatto umana. Decido di dare un’occhiata.

You take a look at the specimen and try to conceal your horror. "Are you sure it isn't human?" you ask. Your supervisor just shrugs. "Keep an eye on it," he says. "I'll be back in a few minutes." Then, save for the "specimen" in the holding cell, he leaves you all alone. You feel conflicted. <<

Qui Ashley viene lasciato da solo. Si può percepire una forte tensione, accompagnata da un forte senso di responsabilità e da un conflitto interiore.

The creature in the cage looks like a person to you. Different, perhaps, but either human or so close that it hardly matters. "What's your name?" you ask, hands curled around the bars. The specimen... no the prisoner wearily shakes their head. You decide to rescue the prisoner. << No. It's safer to keep your distance.

Qui ci sono due scelte: bisogna decidere se essere empatici e salvare la creatura o essere indifferenti e mantenersi a distanza. Scelgo la prima opzione.

You whisper to the prisoner, "I'm going to rescue you." The prisoner stares, disbelieving, and asks, "Why would you do this for me?" This person speaks perfect English, albeit with a curious accent you've never heard before. "Because it's the right thing to do," you say. Let's get out of here. <<

La creatura viene salvata ed entrambi cercano di scappare dal laboratorio.

Your supervisor's been careless. He left his cell keys on the table. Your hands are shaking as you fumble with them, searching for the right-numbered one. Aha! We're outta here. <<

Dopo questa frase si sente una musichetta i sottofondo, simile a dei battiti cardiaci, come per segnalare una crescente tensione.

This rescue is going surprisingly well, and it looks like no one's around. You take the prisoner's hand and... and.... <<

La musica non cessa, anzi aumenta il ritmo e la tensione cresce sempre di più, facendo presagire che succederà qualcosa di brutto.

You don't know where the guards came from. They shoot you both dead. What a gruesome end. <<

Si sente un urlo, quasi strozzato e la musica non si ferma. I due fuggitivi vengono uccisi dalle guardie, per le conseguenze della scelta di salvare il prigioniero. L’unico pensiero è stato: “Così finisce la storia?”

You've had the same dream for three nights in a row. (Well, actually, the last three mornings since you're on the night shift.) It never ends quite the same. Maybe you're just THAT depressed your vacation is ending now. Anyway, it's time to get ready. Who do you see in the mirror? I'm a woman. I'm a man. << I'm neither, actually.

Si viene a saper che in realtà è stato tutto un sogno, che va avanti da tre giorni. La musica cessa e vengono presentate tre scelte sulla sessualità del nostro protagonista. Ho deciso che sarà maschio.

I could use a shave, you think. You shower, you groom, you dress, you grab breakfast. Time to face the day. <<

Nulla di particolare. Viene mostrato uno spezzone della routine quotidiana.

You get to work on time like you always do. After all, getting ahead takes making a good impression. Hang up your coat. <<

Secondo spezzone della routine e si scopre che Ashley è uno dei tanti scienziati.

You put away your coat and head for lab A-3. You exchange polite hellos with co-workers on the way, but everybody knows you're not much of a talker. So, what's up? <<

Terzo spezzone di vita quotidiana e convenevoli tra colleghi. Nulla di particolare.

When you get to lab A-3, almost no one is there. You ask an acquaintance named Kyra, "What's going on?" She tells you, "Check B-2. While you were gone, they brought in a real, live alien and everyone wants a look." "Are you sure it's all right?" you ask. She says, "It's fine. I'll cover for you. Besides, Jones is there and he wants to see you." Jones being your supervisor, who's called you "brilliant" before. Go to Lab B-2 <<

Qui la situazione si fa curiosa. Per quale motivo Ashley debba andare nel Laboratorio B-2 e chi sarai mai quell’alieno di cui stanno parlando tutti?

Phones aren't allowed in the basement labs, so you leave yours in your mini-locker. You go to lab B-2, where they keep the most secret of secrets—even for this place. You only earned clearance a week ago and you're eager to see what's inside. You swipe your card through scanner. The door unlocks. You go inside. You notice there's a card reader inside the room as well—likely an added precaution to help keep whatever's in here from escaping. Everyone is "Ooh"ing and "Aaah"ing over the new specimen that's in the cell in the corner. You nudge your way through the crowd and... and.... Oh my God. <<

Atmosfera ricca di suspence, curiosità e stupore. Tutti gli scienziati stanno ammirando l’alieno. Ciò porta la mia curiosità a scoprire di più sulla situazione.

Huddled behind those cold steel bars is the most beautiful creature. Beautiful... and if not human, close enough that it hardly matters. You're absolutely haunted by this creature... no, this person's mournful eyes. The captive is wearing loose gray prison clothes—pants and a short-sleeved shirt. You believe this ethereal being.... Is male. Is female. Is neither. Is MESMERIZING. You'll work out the details later. <<

Parte una musichetta allegra che enfatizza molto l’interesso verso la strana creatura. Inoltre ci sono quattro scelte, scelgo l’ultima in quanto anche io sono ipnotizzato dal prigioniero e decido di lavorare sui dettagli più tardi.

This person is simply beautiful, beautiful beyond reason. You've never seen anything like them before and doubt you will again. "What... how...?" you ask Jones. It's difficult right now to voice coherent thoughts. Luckily, he knows what you mean. "We're calling it Eden," Jones replies. "Agents discovered it three days ago in a field not far from here, captured it and brought it in for study. We believe it's an alien lifeform." "Can they speak?" "It seems physically capable of speech, but we don't know its language. And that's why I wanted to see you." Why me?

La musica continua, mentre l’atmosfera è passata da semplice curiosità del protagonista a un senso di sorpresa sul fatto che la creatura voglia vedere lui.

"Why me?" you ask. "Several of us have tried already, but the creature won't respond. Essentially, it's your turn." As good an answer as any. You kneel in front of Eden's cell. "Hello," you say quietly so as not to frighten them. "You probably don't understand me, but... I'm not here to hurt you." Send them away, whispers a gentle voice in your mind. Please. Send them away. You blink in surprise since it isn't your voice. It must belong to Eden. It sounds.... Exactly like you'd expect. Different somehow. <<

In questo frangente la questione diventa interessante. L’alieno parla, ma con una voce diversa da quanto si aspettava lo scienziato.

Their voice is calming, like autumn rain. You also think that Eden's voice seems.... More ethereal than you expected. << More lyrical than you expected.

Ho scelto la voce eterea, perchè da una sensazione forte di un mistero che vale la pena essere svelato.

Eden's voice is even more ethereal than you expected, and a perfect match for Eden's androgynous beauty. But back to Eden's request. <<

Il fatto che l’alieno fosse androgino fa ipotizzare che possa appartenere ad una specie aliena ermafrodita.

Eden asked you to clear the room. You look back and say, "Eden is telepathic. They asked me to ask everyone else to leave." Silence. The other scientists exchange puzzled looks and mumurs about the brain scans they took and how they were "different" from a human's. "All right," Jones says. "But I want a full report on your findings." Now, it's time to talk to Eden. <<

Con questa scelta posso parlare con Eden, in modo da scoprire tante cose sul suo conto.

You ask Eden: Where are you from? << Why are you here? Why did you pick ME? Eden, how are you feeling? Can you tell me your real name?

5 domande per svelare i misteri di un’interessante specie aliena. Scelgo la prima domanda.

You ask Eden, "Where are you from?" Eden tells you in the gentlest (and weariest) voice you've ever heard, "A world we call Mekkari. It's... quite far from here." Ask more questions. <<

Un pianeta lontano anni luce, magari popolato da tante alieni. Chiedo altre informazioni per soddisfare la sete di sapere.

You ask Eden: Where are you from? (Already asked) Why are you here? Why did you pick ME? Eden, how are you feeling? z<< Can you tell me your real name? NEW: What's Mekkari like? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Ritorno al punto precedente e chiedo se abbia dei sentimenti come gli umani.

You ask Eden gently, "Eden, how are you feeling?" Eden stares at you for a long time. "You're the first one here to ask me that sincerely," they say softly. Their eyes are shining with tears. "Thank you. I am.... I've been better." Ask more questions? << -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Con questa risposta di Eden si può appurare il fatto che possano provare emozioni simili a quelle degli umani.

You ask Eden: Where are you from? (Already asked) Why are you here? Why did you pick ME? Eden, how are you feeling? (Already asked) Can you tell me your real name? NEW: What's Mekkari like? << -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Ritorno ancora una volta al punto di partenza solo per scoprire come sia fatto il pianeta Mekkari.

You ask, "What's Mekkari like?" Eden gives you a ghost of a smile. "It's a wonderful, wonderful place. Peaceful. Beautiful. I'd really like to go home." Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now. <<

Dopo questa risposta ho deciso che le domande fossero sufficienti, avendo soddisfatto la mia curiosità.

You and Eden both are silent for a while. You feel sorry for their being held captive like this, but what can YOU do? You're not in charge of anything here. Try to console Eden. << Ask what Eden wants.

Provo un moto di empatia verso l’alieno e decido di consolarlo.

"I wish I could help you," you tell Eden. "I don't have much influence here, but if there's anything I can do to make things better for you...." "I know," Eden says. "You'll try."

Maybe... there's a way? It's just too risky. <<

Qui si presenta una scelta difficile, ma ho deciso di non liberarlo per non rischiare conseguenze simili a quelle accadute nel sogno dopo aver liberato Eden.

You look at Eden again, into those sad, innocent eyes. They aren't making this easy. Okay. Let's do this. You can't. It's just too dangerous. <<

Per quanto Eden provi a cercare di farmi cambiare idea, la paura di venire ucciso realmente ha preso il sopravvento e per quanto voglia liberarlo, ho preferito lasciarlo rinchiuso nella gabbia in cui si trovava.

As much as you want to help Eden... you can't. You're afraid of what it could cost you. "I'm so sorry," you whisper to Eden. Eden smiles sadly. "I know." And that's how it ends. <<

Appare un’immagine della gabbia con dentro Eden e parte una musica triste, sottolineando lo sconforto e il triste destino dell’alieno.

You received the ending: "You Coward.”

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