#my coleslaw had three ingredients

[alex51324]

I have successfully cooked my farmshare box!

Here's what I got:

This subscription runs for 22 weeks, from this week until mid-October, and I get 8 things every week. (Usually 8 different things, but I'm not complaining about this week's double strawberries!) The farm I subscribed to has a good variety of things planted, so I should get all the good stuff as it comes along.

Total cost is about $400, which is a big whack to pay at once, but I had one of those months where you get three pay periods instead of two, so I paid for it then. I get slightly fewer hours a week at work in the summer, so it actually works out pretty well to pre-pay part of my grocery expenses.

And here's what I did:

With the lettuce, a bit of the onion, and some grocery-store ingredients, I made a big salad:

There are three of those, earmarked for work lunches. I'll add dressing and croutons when I'm ready to eat them.

With the kale (and more of the onions), I made soup with potatoes and sausage:

I ate one bowl of that right away, and I have three more servings for weekday meals. I had the sausage, chicken broth, and cream in the freezer, and I had potatoes and garlic that needed using up, so all I had to buy for this was the parmesan cheese.

The radishes were a two-fer! With the actual radishes, I made a little salad that my cousin-in-law recommended:

It's thinly-sliced radishes, green onions, and hard-boiled egg, and the dressing is greek yogurt and dill. Sort of a coleslaw vibe, although I think the dressing needs a little something more. I put it on a little nest of kale, because I had a lot of kale to deal with, and you kind of want something to cut the pepperiness of the radishes. Four servings of that left in the fridge. (The bowl with the green dots is a little one, about the size of the palm of your hand--you wouldn't want to eat a big cereal-bowl sized serving of this salad

And the radish greens were beautiful, so I sautéed those up as a little snack while I was cooking:

Olive oil, green onions, garlic. No leftovers of that; it was just a handful of greens. While I ate them I thought about how nice they would probably taste if you were, say, a medieval peasant who had been slowly developing scurvy all winter since the last fresh food ran out.

If that is not your experience, they're okay--a bit chewier than spinach, less tough than kale. However, if your radishes usually come with wilted, mangy-looking tops, or no tops at all, this is not necessarily a situation you need to remedy.

With the rhubarb, I made rhubarb crisp:

I ate one serving of that right away, and I have four more in fridge ready to warm up, add ice cream, and eat. (I only had a little over two cups of rhubarb, so I a-little-more-than-halved @bitletsanddrabbles's dad's recipe.)

The asparagus, I roasted with some olive oil, salt, and pepper:

I had it with some tilapia that was in the freezer, and sweet potatoes that needed using up. One serving I just ate, and two more in the fridge for later.

The strawberries I'm not doing anything fancy with, just slicing them into a bowl with sugar.

#food #farmshare

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

me texting my mum today has just been 

‘morning mum! just ate coleslaw and my upper lip got itchy and swelled up! weird!’

‘hey mum, just had some more coleslaw for lunch! this time my bottom lip got itchy and swelled up!’

‘had a real good dinner but the coleslaw made BOTH my lips get itchy and swell up. i look stupid. like bad lip injections. hope your dinner was nice!’

i think she probably really loves my messages

#no one tell me to stop eating the coleslaw i made the coleslaw so i'm gonna eat the fucking coleslaw even if it kills me #i'm literally so confused though #my coleslaw had three ingredients #carrot cabbage and mayo #i've eaten carrot and cabbage my entire life no prob #and i eat mayo every now and then but like?? this doesn't usually happen??? #lmao i have no fucking clue why it's happening #BUT I'M GONNA FINISH THE FUCKING COLESLAW LEAVE ME ALONE #i made so much of it too. it's fine. if it kills me it kills me

[all-pacas]

so it turns out that my town has implemented a program where if you are or have been affected by covid, you can go to a building and get food. and by food i mean restaurant takeout that the town has been ordering. catered meals. completely for free. and i know this because i randomly walked by this weirdly packed parking lot this afternoon and was given a form where i had to write:

how many meals i wanted

if i needed it to be vegetarian or had a dietary restriction

do i live in town, yes/no.

didn’t ask for names, addresses, anything. i handed the form back and was given a number and waited in a short line and was given a paper bag with:

- pasta with meat sauce and ricotta (ingredients from local farms)

- thai vegetables and rice

- a salad with a chicken leg and dinner roll

- a chicken wrap with coleslaw and tomatoes that i ate for dinner and was fucking amazing.

i actually know the restaurants the latter two came from; i know for a fact that chicken wrap costs about ten bucks normally.

for free. i have dinners for a week. mind you, i only asked for one meal and they gave me four accidentally but... four meals. four big containers of fresh food. the pasta alone was like. apple cider sourced from this farm. beef from this farm. fresh ricotta from farm number three! (i cannot stress how good this pasta looks i didn’t eat it tonight because i didn’t think the sandwich would keep super well but holy crap i cannot wait)

like! it’s so fancy!

and i can go back tomorrow if i want??? monday thru friday. once a day while supplies last. literally if coincidentally two blocks from my apartment. i feel like i fucking robbed a bank.

look at this sandwich i had for dinner!!!!!

(also what a baller way for my small town to keep local restaurants going too. like it’s such a great program. i am losing my mind)

#don’t reblog i guess this would be weird to reblog

[everybodyscupoftea]

anyone can cook

rafe cameron x reader

words: 3729

warnings: usual cursing, mentions of drugs 

synopsis: college au, four times you cook for rafe and one time he cooks for you

Growing up, your mom taught you the importance of food. For most of your childhood, you loved cooking with her. Learning family recipes, and spending time in the kitchen with her instead of doing homework was thrilling to you. As you aged, you started to resent it, feeling like your mother was perpetuating the harmful stereotype that women are meant to be in the kitchen.

And then you left school early and came home to see the shit your dad was putting your mom through and was forced to immediately take that hard pill to swallow. Perspective was a bitch. Your mom didn’t cook to please your dad, she cooked to keep him happy enough for you to be fooled. It was heartbreaking.

You decided then that you’d not take any time cooking with your mom for granted. She loved you and she wanted you to be happier than her. For her, you could certainly fucking try. It was all going great until the storm that knocked out power, rendered the kitchen useless, and drove your dad’s patience level to its breaking point.

He’d never been that angry before, at least not in front of you. You weren’t sure what to do as he lashed out at your mom and then you, without warning and in the end, without apology. Normally if you were upset, your mom would make cookies with you, letting you use cookie cutters and dirty unnecessary dishes. That time though, you had to figure it out alone.

When you got to college, your parents helped pay rent for your first apartment. It had a good kitchen with lots of room, and your mom bought you a ton of kitchen tools, pots and pans, and other cooking necessities as a graduation gift. Her and your dad helped you move in, and that night, with shaky hands, she held your face in her hands. Tears in her eyes she whispered, “Promise me you won’t stop cooking.”

You couldn’t stop your own tears as you gulped and nodded a little frantically, “Of course not, Mama.”

Rafe lived a very different life. His real mother wasn’t in the picture and his step mother didn’t really want kids, so his experience with cooking was very limited compared to yours. Coincidentally that’s how the two of you met, outside your apartment building at 11:48 p.m. while the fire department sorted out the disaster that was his dinner attempt.

You knew it was his fault because he was very carefully trying to make himself look small. The only reason you knew what had gone wrong was you overheard the fireman talking to the landlord saying it was just a small kitchen fire in 227 and wouldn’t be too much to fix.

It was really out of character, but you walked over to where he was sitting on the curb and sat down next to him, “227?”

His head turned toward you sharply, “Figured me out, huh?”

“You were trying a little too hard to look inconspicuous.”

He shrugged, “Didn’t want a bunch of angry neighbors.”

Which you understood, so you nudged his shoulder with yours, “Well, I’m not angry and I know, but I’m not so sure I’d risk it with her,” you pointed at a lady who seemed to be ranting into the phone.

The boy followed your point and winced, “Yeah maybe not. Cooking clearly isn’t for me.”

“What were you making?”

“Kraft mac and cheese.”

You let out a loud laugh, assuming it was a joke. But then he didn’t meet your eyes or laugh along and you quickly stopped laughing, “Wait actually?”

With a shrug, he answered, “No one really taught me how to cook.”

And here you had a choice. Years and years of stored up cooking knowledge, endless recipes memorized, and a fantastic kitchen begging to be used by more than one person made the choice obvious.

“Well then take this as my standing dinner invitation whenever you want. I’ll give you my number and you can let me know when you’re hungry.”

“So, you’re gonna what, teach me how to cook.”

“Well, we can start small. I’ll cook for you first.”

One:

The first time Rafe texted you was on a night you actually had a fridge full of leftovers, but the boy who lived alone with sad eyes deserved better than leftovers. Rafe knocked on the door a few minutes later and he was dressed similarly to the first time you’d seen him, in sweats and a hoodie, and his hands were folded nervously in front of him.

You let him in, and he followed you to the kitchen, “So what’s on the menu for tonight?” he asked.

“Chicken pot pie,” you told him over your shoulder. You’d turned the oven on to preheat and had the potatoes and carrots chopped already. He stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Before you could continue, he cut in, “Is there something I can do?”

You thought for a minute, “You can control the music. My phone is synced up to the bluetooth speaker and I have Spotify pulled up, so have at it.”

Rafe nodded and sat down as you put the veggies into a pot and added water to start boiling them. You quickly went into your cooking zone as Rafe sat quietly queuing up songs. They were from your chill playlist and you appreciated that he was sticking to your playlists, humming along every so often.

By the time you pulled the chicken and veggie mixture from the heat, Rafe was leaning forward in his seat, and he looked excited to see what you’d do next. Reaching down, you pulled out a glass pie tin and looked over at him, “After I press the crust down, will you help me pour the mixture in?”

Rafe nodded eagerly and you made quick work of the pie crust, motioning him to come around the counter. He looked hesitant for the first time since you’d started cooking, and you tried to smile reassuringly. Returning the smile, he moved closer, “What do you want me to do.”

You held out the potholders, “If you pour, I’ll scoop.”

He picked the pot up and slowly poured the mixture into the tin and you quickly scooped the stuff that didn’t pour. Rafe set the pot down and you held the second crust out to him to press on top. He mimicked your actions from earlier carefully, and you couldn’t help but smile. You showed him how to press the edges down with a fork and he did so, slowly. Covering the edges, you let Rafe put it in the oven and then led him to the living room to start a movie while the two of you waited for it to finish.

The pot pie was a family recipe, and when Rafe tried it, the look on his face made it worth him seeing the secret ingredients your mom added to jazz it up. It felt good seeing someone enjoying your cooking again.

Two:

You weren’t entirely sure the relationship Rafe had with his family, but on fried catfish night, Rafe showed up at your doorstep unexpectedly. Fortunately, you had a few extra, so you invited him in for dinner. It wasn’t exactly what he was gunning for when he showed up, but he’d never say no to your cooking.

While you battered and seasoned the fish, he vented about his dad.

“I just don’t understand how a 4.0 isn’t fucking good enough. He’ll never give me any credit as long as Sarah does well in school and plays volleyball, I just want to be good enough.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, and you found yourself tearing up on his behalf. You paused the music that had been softly playing in the background, “Fuck your dad, you deserve better.”

Rafe laughed drily, “I’ve done some dumb shit, this is my karma. I just don’t like it.”

“I fail to see any mistakes bad enough to warrant a parent totally disregarding their child like that. Did you kill someone or something?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “No, I didn’t kill anyone. But I had a drug problem in high school. I’m clean now, but it was me attempting to get my dad’s attention and it all spiraled out of control. Clearly it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to because my dad just kicked me out.”

You were horrified, “He kicked you out?!”

“Yeah, I went from couch to couch for a while until checking myself into rehab so I could get clean. I was tired of being dependent on something and really I wanted to prove my dad wrong.”

“God, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and you started heating the oil up to start frying. There was an extended pause before he softly continued, “He didn’t let me move back in, even when I showed up clean. News of everything had gotten around town and he didn’t want me to further disgrace the family name.”

Brushing a tear off your cheek, you caught his eye, “Karma will come for your dad someday. You deserve only good things, Rafe.”

With a faint smile, he tapped his fingers on the cabinet, almost nervously, “Maybe one day I’ll be able to see it that way, but for now, I just don’t.”

“I’ll keep telling you until you believe it,” you promised fiercely. And you really meant it.

You finished frying the fish, silence between the two of you. It was no longer heavy and it wasn’t as awkward as the first time, you were proud of the progress. Rafe grabbed plates from the cabinet and at your instruction, the coleslaw you had already made and stored in the fridge.

Courtesy kicked in, and you let Rafe make his plate first. You figured he deserved to feel first choice for once. He almost looked like he wanted to argue, but you weren’t about to back down, so he filled his plate and sat back at the bar, patiently waiting for you to sit down before eating.

You fixed your plate and sat down next to him before squeezing his shoulder, “Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

Rafe laughed, “Thanks for letting me rant.”

“Anytime.”

Three:

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath and your laptop confirmed what you feared, your last bio exam had gone very poorly. It was just one test, but you weren’t used to seeing such a low grade, and you had to try really hard not to cry. Everything in you wanted to go lay down for days and forget about the rest of your classes, but the logical part of your brain texted Rafe to invite him for dinner.

He showed up not even five minutes later, and you decided breakfast sounded like the most comforting thing. You didn’t want to come across as too needy, so you didn’t mention the bad grade and tried to cover how you were actually feeling.

Unfortunately, the music you had playing gave it away. Rafe took one look at your face and the slight slump in your shoulders, and immediately wrapped you into a hug. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the tears, and he held you tighter.

“What happened, bud?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to deflect, “fucked up on a bio test. We still have a few more, but it’s not a great start.”

“Which bio?”

“Molecular.”

Rafe thought for a few seconds, “I know a guy who has taken that, want me to see if I can get his notes?”

“That would be great actually.”

He smiled, “Good, now why don’t we get some happier music and get to cooking.”

And you could do that. Rafe changed to a playlist he’d made and sent to you a few weeks ago called Good Vibes for Cooking Nights and you couldn’t argue, they were good songs. A Wallows song started playing and you fell into a rhythm of pouring batter and flipping pancakes, feeling immensely better than when Rafe had first showed up.

You were thankful for him, this boy who had totally changed your life in the four months he’d known you. Four months of baring your hearts to each other in your own little ways. Rafe showing up to your apartment looking casual, not at all how he looked normally during the day. You letting him control the music and watch you cook, something so personal and special to you. It was new for the both of you.

Rafe heated up syrup while you quickly buttered the pancakes and washed some fruit for toppings. For the first time, you made your plate and sat down first. Rafe sat down next to you a few minutes later, plate heaped high with pancakes and raspberries.

After a few minutes of eating, the music being the only noise in the kitchen, Rafe turned to you, “You’re so intelligent and I don’t want you to let this one test discourage you. I know you’ll bounce back.”

“I studied so hard,” you told him, almost whispering, “I knew this was going to be hard, but I have no prior experience to fall back on, and it’s killing me.”

“But you’ll learn. Now you know how exams are structured, and you can adjust your studying habits. Next test will go great, I promise.”

You couldn’t stop it, it had been building between the two of you for months, and in your extra emotional state, you acted more rashly than normal. Setting your fork down, you turned to him and grabbed the front of his shirt. Rafe was startled, but turned to face you, not prepared for you to kiss him.

He froze and you almost regretted it, loosening your grip on his shirt, about to pull away embarrassed when he started kissing you back. Rafe tasted like syrup and raspberries, an addicting combination. Unfortunately, you eventually had to pull away to breathe, and Rafe pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while you caught your breath.

He picked his fork back up and smiled widely at you, “So that was nice.”

You blushed, “Yeah, um, sorry.”

“I’m not,” he stole a strawberry off your plate, “I didn’t want to make a move and make you uncomfortable if I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

“You, um, you weren’t reading it wrong.”

“I see that.”

Your blush deepened as he smiled wider at you. You shrugged, “So, what now?”

“Well, hopefully, now you’ll let me take you out and see where we go from there.”

“I’d like that.”

Four:

You weren’t sure if it was an out of sight, out of mind situation, but your parents planned a couple’s trip for Christmas, and you weren’t invited. Which would make this the first time in your entire life you wouldn’t spend Christmas with your family. You had mixed feelings. On one hand, you were hurt at the blatant disregard of you and your feelings, but on the other hand it gave you the chance to spend your first holiday alone with Rafe.

The two of you were eating hummus and doing homework when you decided to bring it up. He was on the floor, and you were on the couch, so you nudged his shoulder with your foot to get his attention, “How do you feel about spending Christmas together?”

He looked back at you with a wide smile, “I feel like it would be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You grabbed a blank sheet of paper and handed it down to him, “Write down specific foods you want.”

“What do you normally eat on Christmas?” he asked, not taking the paper.

With a shrug, you pulled the paper back, “I don’t know, we normally do gumbo and cornbread and German chocolate cake.”

Rafe grabbed your ankle, shaking your leg a few times, “Let’s do that.”

“You don’t want to add anything?” you asked, hesitant.

He bit the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking, “Maybe we could do a baked mac and cheese. We had those a lot growing up before Mom left.”

“Find me the recipe and I’ll make it for you, bub.”

With a wide smile, Rafe grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “You’re the best.”

When Christmas finally rolled around, you woke up early to start cooking. Your mom suggested a Dutch oven, something you didn’t already own, and to buy file powder instead of trying the cornstarch method. She also told you to make the cake a day earlier so you wouldn’t have to worry about it with the rest of the food.

You worked with Christmas music playing softly in the background, focusing on making sure the flour and oil combination didn’t burn before adding the veggies. The recipe wasn’t hard, but it did require a lot of stirring and paying attention and exact timing.

By the time it was ready to start simmering for about 30 minutes, you had started boiling the pasta for the mac and cheese. That recipe was simple, and you’d been playing with the cheese topping in your own time to make the flavor blend better with the gumbo, and you were pretty sure you’d figured it out.

With practiced ease, you finished it and poured it over the pasta before setting it to bake. By then, it was time to finish the gumbo, make the cornbread, and get dressed.

Rafe showed up just as you finished getting dressed and the cornbread timer was going off. He had a key and let himself in, and you knew he could handle taking the cornbread out.

“Babe, I’m here,” he called out as he shut the timer off.

“Coming,” you yelled back, smoothing your sweater down.

By the time you finally made it to the kitchen Rafe had set all of the food on the counter and he was leaned next to it in his own sweater and jeans. He held his arms out for a hug, and you walked into them happily.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed and reached up to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas,” you told him, pulling away.

“Food looks good,” he complimented, reaching for the bowls and plates he’d gotten out.

You looked over the spread and smiled proudly, “It does, doesn’t it?”

“You want to eat on the couch and watch the Jim Carrey Grinch?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you grabbed a plate, “Fuck yes.”

The two of you settled on the couch, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the background. Rafe started the movie and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, plate in his lap. You leaned into him and let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. This Christmas, while out of the ordinary, was your favorite one yet.

+ One:

You got home after work, exhausted. Your apartment was dark and cold and it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Work had been so time consuming over the past month you’d barely seen Rafe and you missed him. But if you got the promotion your boss had been hinting at, you’d get more manageable hours and higher pay, so you were grinding it out until then.

Dropping your bag by the door, you kicked off your shoes before slowly walking to the couch. Before you could sit down, there was a knock at the door. You considered ignoring it, but it persisted, so you walked slowly back to answer.

Rafe was standing there, giant grin on his face, with a steaming pot of something which explained why he didn’t use his key. It was very surreal and you blinked a few times in confusion before letting him in. He walked past you to the kitchen and set the dish down before digging through your drawer for the matches to light your favorite candle on the counter.

“Go get changed,” he urged, “I’ll get plates set up.”

Your phone rang as you were changing into shorts and you grabbed it out of the discarded pants pocket. When you saw your boss’s name, your heart rate doubled and you answered shakily. The phone call was brief, and the gist was that you’d gotten the promotion and the next day off.

Energy immediately filled your body and you ran to the kitchen where Rafe was scooping out what looked like mac and cheese onto plates.

“Rafe!”

He looked up, startled, “What’s up?”

“I got it!”

“The promotion?” he asked, eagerly.

You nodded, beaming, and jumped into his arms when he opened them. Rafe spun you around a few times and kissed you hard. Slowly setting you back down to your feet, he deepened the kiss, your hands winding into his hair.

Rafe pulled away first, pressing soft kisses to both of your cheeks and your forehead before standing up fully. You let go of his hair and took the hand he offered to you. Leading you to the couch, he sat down and motioned for you to do the same.

“Is this mac and cheese?” you asked, poking at the food with the fork he’d brought you.

“It is. I went on snapchat earlier and realized that it’s an anniversary of sorts. I wanted to make you dinner for once since I know you’ve had a long week.”

“Anniversary?”

A faint blush rose on his cheeks and he cleared his throat, “Um, yeah, a year since we met.”

You laughed loudly, “When you set your fucking kitchen on fire making mac and cheese?”

“A year ago, today. And with your cooking help, I can now make mac and cheese without setting the kitchen on fire.”

Poking at it again, you looked up at him, almost fearing the answer, “This isn’t Kraft right?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, “I called your mom to get her recipe.”

Biting your lip to hold back the onslaught of emotions, you took in a shaky breath, “Right. Okay. Um, I love you, Bub. And this is genuinely the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Rafe kissed your temple before lifting your chin to make you look him in the eye, “I love you too, and as crazy as it sounds, I’m glad I set my kitchen on fire.”

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fic #obx #outer banks #college rafe

[ladyideal]

Ficmas~ Day 9

Pairing: Mckirk x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count: 1125

Warnings: Mention of alcohol

Summary: With the prospect of getting reapproved for hand to hand combat and Leonard going on the last away mission of the year, you spent the day cleaning and baking.

Requested by: @headcannonsforlife

A/n: I think I'm going insane with the amount of fics that I have to write. And this is only the 9th.

"It smells so good here, doll. What are you making?" A familiar blonde haired bounced into the kitchen, and immediately recoiled at the smell of cleaning products.

"Baking," You spoke flatly, scrubbing away at the faucet. "And cleaning. Too much stress."

"Bones will do fine down there. He'll be back soon."

You glared at him before resuming your task. With his hands up in surrender, the Captain continued letting you clean and bake as you wish. Why Leonard volunteered to go down on an away mission on a Class M planet was beyond you. So to keep yourself from biting off Jim's head, you decided to stress bake.

"Did he say anything new?" You asked, checking on the latest batch of cookies. 

"Only to say and I quote "Too many goddamn infants running around," Jim spoke, pushing himself onto the counter to get a better look around.

You shook your head, grabbing the oven mitts when the cookies were done. "Typical. Now come help."

"Want a taste tester?" He asked, already reaching for one.

Gently, you slapped it away.

"Nuh uh, mister. Touch those cookies and you die," You brandished a whisk at him. "I've already tried the battery, just need to put the ones from the oven onto the cooling rack, and those on the rack into a container."

He pouted at you, but pushed his sleeves up anyways. "How many have you made?"

You concentrated on scooping dollops of cookie dough onto the parchment paper. "I'm gonna make as much as I can, so that everyone on this ship can have at least one. It's about twenty per tray, around ten minutes each, and I've been baking since Len beamed down onto the planet."

Quickly the blonde did the math in his head. One quick glance at the amount of containers and then at the chron, there was a rough estimate.

"So about three hundred forty?" He popped the lid of a container to put in two more cookies.

"Yeah, give or take. Only thing I thought of to do since I'm still waiting for the exam results to return," You nodded, washing your hands to start the next match. "Hand to hand combat and phaser were both today."

"And how did you do?"

"Terrible. The hand to hand combat didn't go as I planned. I know I did well with the phaser, just the simulation threw me off in the beginning," You mumbled. "I mean I know at least passed, but not with flying colors."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Y/N."

An amiable silence filled in as you and Jim worked together. He poured in the ingredients, you whisked and scooped into small portions onto the tray. It was repetitive, and the motions distracted you for a while. 

"There we go. Maybe two more batches and get these chicken fried steak warmed up," You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of a hand, and wiped the flour on the apron. 

"Three hours," Jim spoke, wiping the sink.

Ring!

You and him shared a glance.

"Kirk here."

"Captain, the away team are ready to be beamed up at any moment now."

Your eyes widened.

"I'll be down shortly, Scotty." He snapped his comm away, and held you tightly in his arms. "Hold on for a little longer, doll. I'll bring him back home. I swear it."

Instead you kissed him, desperation, love, and anxiety poured in. Thankfully, your boyfriend understood. You didn't really know what you would do if one didn't return. 

"Dinner. Wait for me and Bones. Understand?"

You nodded before reluctantly letting him go. "Go get him."

You waited.

And waited some more.

Cleaned a little more before finishing the last of the gravy and the coleslaw. The table was set. The candles cautiously placed on, and lighted. The chicken noodle soup bubbled warmly on the stove, and green beans just needed to drop into the boiling water for a couple minutes before it too was done. 

Bourbon and Scotch bottles were popped, and a generous glug were poured into three glasses. Now all you needed were the star of the show. You could've gone down to the Teleporter Room with Jim, but Leonard would still have to stop by Medbay anyways to get himself checked. 

Curling up on the sofa, you settled down with your PADD and comm. You loved them both, Jim and Leonard. Both boyfriends were wonderful, and if you were honest, you would thank your luckiest stars that they were still alive and well.

Being on the USS Enterprise, anything could happen. Literally. Space was wild, and all the people you loved and cherished were out here with you too. With that in mind, you started the first of many mindless videos.

"We're home!"

Dropping your PADD, you rushed to the door where you met your favorite doctor, clothes dirtied, but alive. Without a doubt, you hurried into his waiting arms in the same manner a child would do.

"Len!"

"Hi sweetheart. Miss me?" He chuckled.

"I missed you so. So. Much," You nearly cried in happiness. "What took you so long?"

"Where's my hug?" Jim pouted, but nonetheless hugged you both. 

"How about over dinner? Goddamn infants down there didn't think about making food," He snorted. 

"And maybe a shower and some change of clothes. You stink," You wrinkled your nose, wiggling out of his grasp. 

He laughed, and you smiled inwardly. You could get used to the sound. A good twelve hours away from the ship, but the wait was agonizingly slow. 

"Come on. Dinner's gonna go cold if you continue standing there," You spoke. "Jim, could you throw the green beans in? They only need a couple minutes in the boiling water."

"You made all this from scratch, sweetheart?" Leonard was the first one to speak after cleaning his plate, and polishing it off with a nice glass of bourbon.

You nodded, spooning the last amount of mashed potatoes onto the plate. Thank god they turned out well. There was no way you would replicate one from the replicator, nearly everything from it tasted like cardboard. "And some cookies still in the oven."

"Some?!" Jim spoke incredulously. "Get this Bones. Y/N baked enough cookies so that the entire ship could have at least one." 

You smiled weakly. "It was that or I clean the entire quarters a second time today."

"Save some for me, darlin'. Good god, one day I need to get that recipe off your hands. I swear you can win a contest with them." He had noticed the cleaning products in the bathroom, but said nothing about it. 

As the doctor continued praising your chocolate chip cookies, a hint of smile twitched at the corners. This was home.

eAts Everything: @mournthewicked @asraime @aspiring-ginger @bluesclues-1234 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @groovyfluxie @keijibum @also-fangirlinsweden @mysoulshideaway @charlielotte @fandom-imagination-ss @mayday1284 @sayanythingcreations @bbeasehnsucht @supergeekfangirl​ @your-sparklywinnercollection​

Trekkies: @marvelouslytrekking @lykxzandlove @piccolaromana @strange-old-worlds @mrs-l-mccoy @april-showers-and-flowers @scraftskhu35 @worm-cant-read @fandomismymiddlename @childofthecornflakes @yueci @lgbtqcontinuum @dartheldur @goddess-of-many-fandoms @crackheadcastdirector @writerdee1701 @readingtrek

McCoy: @cobe76 @yakuzussian @space-cowboy2227 @lacychick @kimberlyfletcher @samanthasmileys @cappuccinosandcosmos @fxngsfogxarty​ @nerdy-weirdo 

Urban: @fandomsfeelsandfamily​ @justa-traaash​ @morriganwarrior @jkholmes 

#Leonard McCoy #Leonard Bones McCoy #bones mccoy #and jim #Jim Kirk #james t kirk #Captain James T. Kirk #captain kirk #jim kirk x leonard mccoy x reader #mckirk x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #x reader #star trek #star trek aos #star trek 2009 #star trek into darkness #star trek beyond #reader insert #star trek reader insert #star trek fic #31 days of ficmas #ficmas2020 #christmas prompts #deb writes

[icannotreadcursive]

Avengers PSAs: On the COVID-19 Pandemic 5: Food!

Clint was leaning back against the kitchen island in purple argyle pajama pants and a black T-shirt.

“Hey,” he said, making the salute-like ASL sign for hello as he did. “Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye or 'that random guy with the bow an arrow who hangs out with the Avengers' here to talk about grocery shopping and cooking during these quaran-times.”

He grinned at his own pun, then continued, signing to the camera to follow him. He pushed off from the island and walked over to the pantry and the two large refrigerators that flanked it. “Whether you're ordering your groceries for delivery or suiting up in your mask and gloves to brave the stores, you need to shop according to what kind of storage you have and you preferences as far as what you'll actually cook and what you'll actually enjoy eating.

“Now what I mean by shopping according to your storage is things like, if you have a lot of freezer space—maybe you have a freezer chest in the garage because you hunt, or you have a minifridge leftover from college that you can set cold enough to use as a freezer—then stocking up on frozen food is a good idea. If you don't have a lot of freezer space, then you can't stock up as much on frozen food and need to focus more on shelf-stable things like dry good and canned goods.

“The point is to be able to have enough food in your home that you can make three meals a day for your whole household for at least a week without having to go shopping and without things going bad before you can eat them. That kind of big stock-up grocery run gets expensive fast, and a lot of people aren't working right now or have their hours cut, so it can be hard to afford the kind of stocking up we all need to be doing. To help mitigate that and make things easier for others in your community, if you can afford to buy the more expensive versions of some foods, do so. Leave the less expensive options on the shelves for the people who can't afford anything else.”

He moved farther into the pantry and he segued subjects a little. “If you're not much of a cook or if you're particularly busy right now—working in essential industries, working from home, trying to homeschool your kids, whatever—then you need to focus more on prefab food, stuff you can just shove in the oven or the microwave or stick on the stove for a minute and be done. If you do like to cook or you've decided your quarantine activity is gonna be learning to cook and you have more time, then you should focus more on getting ingredients for cooking from scratch. Everyone should have a mix of both, though, and there are certain stables everyone oughta have on hand.”

He grabbed a box off a shelf, tossed it over his shoulder, caught it as he turned around, and held it out for the camera to see. “Noodles. You want noodles. It doesn't really matter what noodles. Dry pasta is great because it's extremely shelf stable, it keeps forever. I've eaten pasta that was a year past the date on the box and it was fine.

“I know a lot of stores are running low on boxed pasta, so maybe now's the time to try that lentil based pasta you've been eyeing suspiciously for a while, or get some tiny pasta like orzo, stelini, or even couscous that you usually avoid because they're not really noodles.” He put the box of pasta back on the shelf. “You can even make your own pasta if you really want to or you're really desperate. But if you have noodles—or pasta, same difference—you have a meal. Cook a whole batch to eat with sauce for spaghetti night, then save the leftover noodles, fry them up in a pan with some butter, scrambled eggs, and cheese tomorrow for lunch.

“On that note, you want eggs unless you're allergic—or vegan, I guess—and you want your dairy staples: butter, cheese, and milk. Butter and cheese both keep a long time in the fridge, especially hard dry cheeses, but milk is iffier. You canfreeze milk to make it last longer, just shake it up real good when you thaw it out, but you can also get UHT milk—ultra high temperature—that's been heat-treated so you don't have to refrigerate it at all until it's opened so you can keep it on the counter or in the pantry.” He looked around a little. “I don't think we have any UHT milk for me to show you or I would. Stark's bankrolling us, as usually, and we're doing what I mentioned earlier about buying the more expensive stuff if you can afford it, and, well, Tony can afford anything, so we've been getting direct delivery from a local dairy farm once a week—it's in glass bottles, Steve and Buck are thrilled, it's cute. Anyway, another thing you can do is buy a gallon of milk, buy some powdered milk, once you've used half of that gallon, mix up half a gallon worth of that powdered milk with cold water, add it to the half gallon you had left. Boom, whole gallon of milk again, and I promise it's not weird and watery seeming like if you just reconstitute powdered milk by itself. It's good.

“You also want rice, shelf-stable protein like canned tuna, or these funky little packets,” he held up a pouch of lemon-pepper flavored tuna, “stuff to snack on like crackers and whatever you like on crackers, and bread—which is something else you can make yourself, seriously buy some flour and get your bake on, kneading bread is a great way to work out your frustrations.” He smacked a large bag of flour, caught it as it threatened to fall off the shelf, resettled it, and flashed a thumbs up.

It cut back to Clint in the kitchen, sitting at the island now. “For the sake of your own sanity, it's also important to make it where feeding yourself isn't just a chore and you actually enjoy your food. There's a lot of little things you can do that will help with that a lot even if you're not up to much more than throwing some ramen in the microwave.”

A package of Yaki Soba slid quickly across the counter right past Clint—a slivery blur flashed behind him, kicking up a breeze that ruffled his hair, and Pietro caught the package before is skidded right off the end of the island. “Sorry,” Pietro grinned sheepishly as he handed the Yaki Soba to Clint, “my bad.”

“I knew I should have asked your sister,” Clint teased. He rolled his eyes as Pietro ducked back out of frame, then held up the Yaki Soba for the camera. “If you're gonna have one of these, take two seconds before you make it, dig through your fridge, add a little soy sauce or teriyaki sauce to the water before you cook it, give it some flavor. Toss some shredded carrots, coleslaw mix, or even canned chicken in there. Make this stuff be real food instead of I'm-trying-to-feed-myself-in-my-dormroom sadness with minimal effort.”

He tossed the Yaki Soba out of frame, presumably to Pietro, and a plushy hotdog got tossed back to him. He caught it easily. “Hot dogs are great, easy and fast to fry up in a pan, but kinda meh on their own, so have some potato chips or shove fries or tater tots in the oven. Make some chili and have chili dogs.

“Speaking of chili….” He tossed the plushy back and a jar of Prego pasta sauce slid to him—it stopped a little short and he leaned forward to grab it. “We should have practiced this. Anyway. Jarred pasta sauce is totally fine, but you can use it as a spring board for excellent homemade sauce. Brown some ground meat in the bottom of a pot, put some onion through a food processor, cook it in a big pan, add some garlic, process some more veggies, any veggies, add them and some wine to the onions, once that's cooked down, add it all in with the meat, pour in some store bought sauce, feast like a god. I'm not even kidding, Thor loves this stuff, I made a whole vat of it last week. It's easier to do in bulk and it freezes well.  Andyou can split some off, add beans and spices, make yourself some damn good chili. I'll post a recipe with actual measurements and stuff.”

He slid the jar of sauce back and caught a box of dry noodle soup mix that had been thrown directly at his face. “Make this stuff with more noodles—if your extra noodles take more than 5 minutes to cook, put them in the water first, then add the soup mix when ther's five minutes to go. When it's almost done cooking, like a minute left, pour in a scrampled egg or three. You've got egg drop soup, white people style.”

He tossed the soup box back and Pietro threw a pack of premade pizza crusts to him like a frisbee. Clint fumbled it a little but didn't drop it. “Make your own pizza! You can get these flatbread rounds to use as crust, or you can make your own dough—if you have a bread machine, it will make the dough for you. Then, put whatever you want on your pizza. You can go traditional with red sauce, cheese, and pepperoni, or you can get feta, pre-cooked grilled chicken, olives and artichoke hearts—Tony likes that.” He gestured off camera. “The wonder twins over here like carrots on their pizza; I'm not gonna question it. Natasha made herself a bacon mac'n'cheese pizza for breakfast today.”

He flung the pizza rounds away and, judging by the thwap sound, no one caught them. “Just, think about your food. Have fun, experiment, sing while you cook, plan before you go shopping, don't feel like you have to settle for spaghetti-o's and cereal just because you're stuck at home. And, hey, tell me what you're cooking, what you like on pizza. Stay home, stay safe, stay well fed. From me, and Pietro, and the rest of the Avengers—thank you.”

He signed thank you as well and waved before the video went black.

#PSA #Avengers #Marvel #coronavirus #covid19 #covid-19 #covid_19 #clint barton #HOH!Clint #hawkeye #food #cooking #quarantine #quarantimes #advice

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 27: carrots, rusty bikes, and troublesome ghosts

Saturday, November 10th, 1990

“What does the coleslaw come with?”

“I’m sorry?” I look up from the order pad I’m scribbling on, not having quite registered the guy’s question the first time.

“The coleslaw, what does it come with?”

“Oh, uhm, it’s a side, so you can get it with any entree you want, really…”

“So can I just order coleslaw?”

“Well, I don’t think we sell it separately, I think it comes on the side of whatever you order.”

“Okay, how much for just a side of coleslaw then?”

This is it. I’ve died. I’ve died and gone to hell where my punishment for being a horrible human being is to be stuck in a permanently looping, restaurant-themed version of “Who’s on First.” Welcome back to work, Cora. With tremendous effort, I try again in my most patient customer-service voice.

“I don’t think I can get you just a side of coleslaw. Can I get you something else? Maybe something that comes with coleslaw?”

“I really don’t want anything else. I just want coleslaw.”

“Okay… but sir, it’s really the smallest possible portion, it’s just a little metal cup with three bites’ worth of salad.” I hold up my hands and make a circle shape with my fingers about the size of a half dollar coin, trying to impress upon this nitwit the concept of a fucking side of coleslaw.

“Fine,” he sighs, and it takes every ounce of my restraint not to stab one of my own eyes out with my pencil, “can I get it on the side of some fries?”

Fries. Are. Also. A. Side. Someone please kill me. You know what? Fuck it. Fine. I surrender and jot down “kill me now” on my notepad next to a sketch of a little dagger dripping blood.

“Wait, what’s actually in the coleslaw?”

As tempted as I am to do my best Charlton Heston Soylent Green impersonation to run this asshole out of my restaurant, I draw a deep breath and begin a faithful recitation of the ingredients in the most common side dish in America. “Cabbage, carrots, mayo…”

“Oh, I don’t like carrots.”

“So… you don’t want the coleslaw?”

“No, I do, I just don’t want the carrots.”

“Okay, but… it’s just that… we buy the coleslaw as a mix, sir. The carrots are just part of it.”

“If it’s such a small scoop, then it shouldn’t be that hard to take them out, right?”

My anger flashes, but then a different voice, more nasal than this guy’s but much more pleasing, floods my brain.

“You wear your feelings right… here.”

The memory is so immediate, I can even feel the weight of Stone’s hand perched on my shoulder, and for a split second I even glance to my left to see if I can spot his fingers there.

Of course they’re not there. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I haven’t seen or heard from Stone since he literally ran out of my apartment. Not even a phone call, and it’s been four days. There’s only one logical conclusion to draw. I crossed a line when I kissed him, and he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. He must have spent that whole day at my place because Lucy asked him to. And probably because he felt sorry for me, too. That’s all. Nothing more.

But I had to go and kiss him, uninvited, like a jerk. And that’s not even the first time! When I think back to that night we spent at his place, back to that moment in the tree, when I was so sure I understood his feelings: who kissed who? Me. I started it. I was the one who attacked him, not the other way around. He was the one trying to slow everything down.

“Oh yeah, that’s why you came over here and threw yourself at me last night, the overwhelming happiness of it all.”

Again Stone’s old words resound in my ears, only this time they aren’t the tender ones from my bed the other day but the harsh, mocking ones after we woke up together in his. It couldn’t be plainer that I’ve been misreading his feelings all along. Maybe he really did suffer some temporary insanity that night, and he thought he had feelings for me, but it was only because he got carried away, and now that he sees what a fucking trainwreck I am, he regrets all of it.

Or maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he actually did want me, maybe his affection did come from a genuine place after all, but who can blame him for losing interest in someone who’s stupid enough to be cheated on for an entire year? I’m like the textbook definition of damaged goods, so it’s only natural that his feelings have changed.

“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can do to make me not want you.”

Damn these stupid hallucinations. My pulse quickens as my body remembers his touch under the hemlock tree in perfect detail. I believe he did really want me, for a while. But we’re not there anymore. We’re here. Wherever here is. So much has happened since that night. And I obviously figured out how to drive him away after all. He doesn’t feel the same way anymore. I can’t blame him for that. The shittiest part is that I feel like I owe him an apology, an explanation, a promise that I’ll stop throwing myself at him, except that even calling him to tell him that much feels like overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t want to talk to me. Message received loud and clear. I can take a hint. I just hope I haven’t ruined our friendship entirely. I don’t think I could take losing Stone on top of everything else.

“Miss? Hello, earth to Carrots over here?”

On the bright side, my misery over my situation with Stone is enough to shake off the murderous rage I was just feeling toward Coleslaw Guy. I can always spit in the guy’s salad, anyway. Maybe there’s a slight chance I’m still contagious. Always a silver lining somewhere.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be back with your order soon.”

Turning my back to his table, I make eye contact with Emily over at the bar, who has evidently been watching the entire exchange with Coleslaw Guy for her evening entertainment.

“Welcome back, Cora, we saved the best tables for you.”

“I’m ever so grateful! How will I ever, ever repay you?” I fawn, laying my accent on thicker. “Oh, I know. You win the grand prize, you get to help me pick the carrots out of that guy’s coleslaw with tweezers.”

“What??”

“He asked me to uncarrot his coleslaw. You can’t make this shit up.”

“And you actually agreed to do it?”

“I’m broke, Em, I’ll humiliate myself a real whole lot for a decent tip.”

“Well don’t look now, ‘cause your favorite riff raff are descending. Worst tippers I’ve ever seen, but at least they’re cute about it.”

She nods over my shoulder, and I turn around to figure out what she means. My stomach lurches when I spot a familiar group of idiots gathered on the sidewalk, waving enthusiastically through the window like a bunch of well-wishers on a dock seeing off a cruise ship. Jeff’s grinning cross-eyed, Lucy’s practicing her Queen of England wave, and Chris and Matt blow sloppy kisses from behind them. But that’s nothing compared to Mike, who pulls up his shirt to press his nipple against the glass in a display of wanton desire, causing the customers closest to the window to scoot their chairs back several inches in alarm.

“Oh god, no…” Emily shields her eyes, blushing scarlet to the roots of her hair and bustling out of sight, which is almost enough to sidetrack me from noticing that Stone’s the only one who’s not clowning around. And now he’s the only one I can see. Standing off to the side, one arm cradling a 12-pack of beer and the other hand shoved deep in the pocket of his brown coat, looking anywhere but at our friends or through the window at me. Looking annoyed, more than anything else. Looking like he’d like to be anywhere but here. Whoever’s idea it was to drop by and assault the window of my cafe, it certainly wasn’t his. What happened to all the oxygen in this place? Why can’t I breathe?

Stone disappears out of sight down the sidewalk, and the rest of the guys, having gotten the reaction they wanted, follow after him. Lucy waves at them before ducking inside, much to the apprehension of the customers who were closest to Mike’s nipple.

“I swear I’ve never seen those people before in my life,” she reassures them with a sunny smile as she makes her way over to me.

“To what did I owe that eye-gouging spectacle?”

“They were just glad to see you back at work, I think they miss monopolizing your section.” Lucy parks on a barstool and pockets the stolen cookie wrapped in a napkin that I’ve just handed her with as much stealth as a thief in broad daylight can manage.

“Not enough to stop by for dinner though, huh?”

“Nah, they’re gonna go practice. They’ve got that show in a few days, and I think they’ve done fuck-all so far to prepare for it.”

“Ah, right, I forgot all about that.”

Liar. Their show at the Off Ramp on Tuesday has been on my mind all week. I’ve been trying to decide whether I should go or not. I’m not even going to bother asking Lucy, because I know what she’ll say if I tell her I’m considering skipping it.

“But I think they were gonna swing by for dinner later,” she goes on. “How late are you working?”

Oh, sure they will. And then Stone will skip off to that root canal he’s been looking forward to. I start reorganizing coffee mugs to give myself something more productive to do.

“Oh, uh, my shift’s almost done.”

“Great! Then you can come by the gallery when you get off?”

“I should really catch up on schoolwork, Luce, I have a paper to present on Monday, and…” somehow reorganizing the mugs has become a game to see how high I can stack them before they fall, and now Lucy and I are both staring at my handiwork.

“At least pretend to humor the idea before you shoot it down, will you?”

“I’m not shooting anything down,” there’s been more than enough shooting down happening in my life lately for my tastes, “I just have a lot to do.”

My friend lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t suppose this is another one of those ‘avoiding Stone’ attempts you’re always so successful at?”

“What? No.”

“Hey, you don’t get to act surprised. I’m on solid ground here! You’ve got priors!”

The mug on the top of my impressive tower slips off, and Lucy makes a remarkable save while I stabilize the rest of my construction.

“I should probably put these back,” I mutter, hoping for a change of subject as I return the mugs to their proper arrangement.

“I knew it, you’re avoiding him. What did he do now?” she frowns. “Did he do something stupid that day he came over?”

Him? No. He did nothing wrong. Me, on the other hand… stupid slut who throws herself at anyone who shows her the slightest hint of affection…

“What? Of course not. He was great.”

“Uh huh. So then you’re avoiding him because…?”

“I’m not avoiding him!”

“Come on, Cora, cut the shit, yes you are.”

“It’s not like he’s called me either, you know. It’s just been kinda quiet for a few days, don’t make a big thing about it.”

“Wait, he hasn’t called you either?” she wrinkles her whole face in confusion. Me too, friend! That’s what I’ve been saying! I’m not avoiding him! He’s avoiding me! I’m just following his lead and trying not to make him any more uncomfortable around me than he already is! Oh no, what if she thinks she needs to meddle and try to push us closer together? Is that why she called him to come over and help me pack in the first place? No, no, I need to nip this suspicion in the bud before she makes everything worse.

“No, but it’s not a big deal, really. Maybe I can stop by practice for a couple of minutes. We’ll see how I feel when I get done here, I’m pretty tired.”

“Yes!” She fist-pumps in triumph. “Admit it, woman, you need socialization. This hermit thing is not a good look for you. Now that I’m on a roll, what about movie night tomorrow?”

“Lucyyyy,” I whine, slumping my shoulders for maximum pathos.

“None of the guys, just us. Pleeeeaase?” Her wheedling drowns out my whining until I cave, not wanting to make a scene.

“Ugh. Fine. One movie, I pick.”

Lucy jumps off her barstool, bouncing excitedly on her heels. “Two movies, and I get the final say.“

“What the –”

“She who wields the Blockbuster card controls the choices!”

“Tyrant! Okay, fine, at whose apartment am I serving this sentence?”

“You always have better snacks at your place,” she shrugs, breaking off a piece of the contraband cookie in her coat pocket and glancing sideways before stuffing it in her mouth, looking about as sneaky as a chipmunk storing up for winter.

“Fair point. Hey, that’s actually not a bad idea, you can pick up Jeff’s pan while you’re there.”

“Whmphch pn??” she garbles through her massive mouthful of cookie.

“Oh, uh, Eddie borrowed one. He brought over some food the other day.”

“When was that?”

“Wednesday, I think?”

“I didn’t hear about that!”

“It didn’t exactly warrant an announcement in the papers. He knew I was sick, he brought dinner over, we ate it, he left.” I shrug.

“That’s really sweet of him. What did you guys talk about?” She frowns before demolishing the rest of her treat. Why is she so interested in Eddie coming over to hang out? It’s not a big deal.

“We didn’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘we didn’t’?”

“I mean, it’s Eddie, he’s sorta the silent type.”

“Hmph,” she mutters, tossing the crumpled up napkin at my head and forming an exaggerated pout. “You don’t tell me anything anymore, you know that? I’ll see you in a little bit!”

As I watch her leave, I feel a twinge of remorse for keeping her at arm’s length lately. It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with my best friend, but it’s in her nature to want to talk about absolutely everything in excruciating detail, and what’s there to say? I was dumb enough to get strung along by Alex for an entire year, I’ve completely screwed up my entire friendship with Stone, and I don’t even understand what’s so newsworthy about a silent dinner with my neighbor.

Suddenly, tweezing carrots out of coleslaw sounds like a more manageable task than understanding my own social life.

***

“FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK!”

Mike’s outburst drowns out the dissonant sound of everyone cutting their own playing short. I share a quick glance with Chris, who looks amused more than anything as he takes the interruption to justify a beer break. Jeff’s scowling at his bass, and Matt’s got the patient expression of a saint as he rests his sticks on his snare to watch the guitarist jumping up and down.

“Mike… mellow, man, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, totally fine that our lead guitarist can’t count to seven,” I roll my eyes.

“Shut the fuck up, Stone, it’s your fault, it’s your stupid time signature. 99% of the world couldn’t figure this thing the fuck out.”

“Yeah, too bad you’re not in that other 4%, huh?”

Mike opens his mouth to retort, but he almost looks closer to tears than actual coherence, so it’s probably not a terrible thing that Matt speaks up before I do.

“Alright, it’s no big deal, let’s just try it again…”

“Yeah,” I offer in a slightly less snide tone, “let’s just go through the chord chart one more time…”

But at some muttered jumble of words out of the side of Mike’s mouth that sound distinctly like “shove it up your ass,” I decide to let Matt field this remedial music lesson and grab a drink with Chris.

As practices go, this is about as un-stressful as it ever gets, provided Cready can wrap his head around this particular song in the next couple days. I’m pretty attached to it, so I hope we can pull it off live, but in his defense, we have practiced precisely zero times so far, and it’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked him to play.

“He’ll get it,” Chris muses, watching Matt and Jeff take Mike through the pattern for the nth time.

“And if not, big fucking deal, it’s gonna be fun no matter what.”

“Should be,” he turns to me with his face split in a wide grin. “Are the girls gonna show up?”

“To the show, or here?” I concentrate my attention on the label of my beer can as though it’s the most fascinating design I’ve ever seen. Anything to avoid this conversation.

He shrugs. “Either. Both.”

“Beats me.” I really wish I knew, but hassling Cora about the show, or even stopping by Cyclops to try and get her attention, feels all wrong lately. She doesn’t need me breathing down her neck right now… Jesus, no harm in thinking about other scenarios that involve breathing down her neck, though, right?

“Huh. What gives? You guys still not done being idiots yet?”

“They’re always idiots,” Mike yells over his shoulder as he fucks up the riff yet again.

“Idiots who can count to seven,” I snarl, before lowering my voice so only Chris can hear. “Anyway, she’s kinda laying low lately, so I’d be surprised if she shows up, either here or Tuesday.”

“Laying low? How come?”

Oh, fuck, I keep forgetting that not everybody knows. Should I tell him? It’s really not my story to tell, and she’s so private about everything, she might murder me if she knew I told anyone.

“She still sick?” Chris presses.

“Nah,” Jeff corrects, “fuckin’ Alex had a girl on the side for like the last year, she just found out about it the other day. Walked in on them, I think.”

So much for giving Cora her privacy, although I guess that was too much to hope for with this crowd. At least I didn’t have to be the one blabbing about it, though. Thanks, Ames. Maybe if I just sit here and pound this beer, the conversation will move on soon?

“Shit…” Chris mumbles, looking slowly between Jeff and me.

“Yeah. I mean good riddance, always hated the guy and I’m fuckin’ glad he’s not my neighbor anymore, but I think Cora’s still in pretty bad shape.”

“But that means she’s single now, right?” Mike calls.

“Hey, look who finally learned math,” I kick myself for chiming back in, but Mike’s just such an easy target.

“So if she’s single, what are you waiting around for?” he goes on, and just like that, all eyes are back on me. Shit, I should have kept my mouth shut. “The two of you need to figure your thing out and just fuck already, the puppy eyes routine is getting old.”

“‘Just fuck already,’” I repeat bitterly, “Jeeesus. Does Dear Abby know about you?”

“He’s got a point,” Jeff piles on, while Chris’s eyes continue to bounce back and forth like he’s watching a ping pong tournament. “You guys just need to work it out.”

“Look, she just broke up with the guy! You think I want to be her rebound?”

If I’m being I’m honest, I don’t give a fuck what we call it. I’ll gladly be her rebound. I can handle it. I can work with that. I think even being her rebound sounds a whole lot healthier than where we’ve been, or what she’s had to deal with from Alex. And I definitely don’t need Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber here to give me relationship advice or tell me what I want. But that’s the whole fucking point, it’s not just about what I want, I’m trying to give her the space she needs. She gets that, right? Why doesn’t anybody else?

“Kinda stupid to worry about being her rebound if you’re already together, dude.”

“We are not together!”

“You’re not not together, though,” Mike butts in.

“Oh, excellent, the relationship guru speaks again. How about this, if I wanna be used for a bunch of meaningless sex with a girl who won’t even give me her phone number, you’ll be the first one I run to for advice.”

“You say that like it’s bad,” Mike shrugs.

“Alright Dr. Ruth, can you count to seven yet or what?”

To my relief, everyone seems willing to drop the topic and get back to playing, at least for a little while. But I’m the one who botches a chord when Lucy jogs down the stairs and takes a seat on the beat-up couch, because I’m too busy keeping an eye out on the stairwell for Cora to concentrate properly on playing. But soon, we’ve practiced as much as any of us feel we need to for today, and we’re packing up to leave, and Cora still hasn’t shown up. Not that I had any good reason to expect her to be here. It’s not like I specifically asked her to come. I’m starting to feel pretty shitty about that. It was lazy of me to assume that she’d show up just because Lucy planned to. I probably should have called her and asked her. I should definitely tell her I want her to be at our show. Maybe I’ve taken this “giving her space” thing a little too far. It’s been almost a week since we’ve seen or talked to each other, and we didn’t exactly part on the most crystal clear of terms. I’ve spent most of the intervening time replaying that kiss, thinking about what I should have done differently, what I should have told her instead of just leaving…

But she understands, right? We’ve been honest with each other. I feel secure about that much, at least. She knows how I feel about her. There’s no point in beating a dead horse. It was definitely the right decision not to let things get out of hand so soon after her breakup. And whatever these assholes say, it’s definitely still too soon. I’d feel like a total jerk just dropping by her work, or her place, and pushing her into anything she’s not ready for. When she’s ready to talk about it again, I’ll be here.

“Stone? You gonna take up residence down there or what?” Lucy calls.

Jesus, when did everyone leave? I grab my bag and follow them up the stairs and out onto the street. Mike and Chris have already disappeared, and Jeff’s kneeling down on the ground, occupied in an argument with his ancient bike lock, which is remaining stubbornly locked despite his best caveman efforts to jerk it open. Lucy’s standing a few paces away from him, and I spot my opportunity.

“So, uh, Cora had work, I take it?” I ask under my breath, walking backwards a few steps in the hope she’ll follow.

Lucy’s too focused on inexplicably picking crumbs out of her jacket pocket to look at me right away, but she gets the hint and trails after me so we can keep our voices down and be drowned out by Jeff’s grumbling. “Think so. I mean, her shift’s probably already done, but she wanted to catch up on school stuff.” Her gaze bounces up, having cleared the offending debris. “Have you talked to her lately?”

“You did tell me to leave her alone, as I recall.”

“I told you no such thing. I told you to keep it in your pants –”

“– check –”

“– not completely disappear. And ew, Stone, I don’t literally want an update about your pants parts.”

“I haven’t disappeared, I just wanted to give her a little space.”

Her face rearranges into that same menacing squint from the stairwell. “Not calling her for a week’s kind of extreme, don’t you think?”

Shit… maybe I did take this too far. “Did she tell you that?”

But before Lucy can respond, Jeff straightens up in the background and finally frees his bike.

“Got it! It’s that hunk of rust in the bike rack, it’s been there for like two years and it’s fucking impossible to work around.”

He kicks at a long-abandoned object barely recognizable as a bicycle, covered in grime and rust, leaning pathetically against the frame of the rack. I wave goodbye to the two of them as they head in the direction of their building, my attention now caught up in the rusty bike. I give it a good shake, and apart from needing essentially every part replaced, the frame itself seems to be intact. About the right size, too. It’s perfect. I try to pull it free myself, but the bike lock restraining it is still in decent enough shape to put up a fight. This is going to take more imagination.

***

Sunday, November 11th, 1990

“A Swayze double feature and you didn’t even get Road House? What kind of bullshit is that?”

Cora rummages through the video store bag on her kitchen counter, pouting at the movies I chose.

“Call me crazy, I’m just not in a throat-rippy-outty mood.”

“First time for everything,” she smirks, tearing into an enormous bag of red licorice, “but at least you got the right junk food.”

“Come on, not even you can argue with Dirty Dancing. And I couldn’t get any of you fuckers to see Ghost with me in theaters, so here’s your payback.”

“Christ. I’m gonna need something stronger than these to get through all this romance shit,” she chuckles around a Twizzler. “It’s official… we need brownies.”

“Only if you make them. You know I can’t bake to save my life.”

“What’s the old saying? Give a woman a brownie, feed her for a day…” she says, her back to me as she starts pulling baking supplies out of an upper cabinet.

“And at least she’ll have one glorious brownie and no food poisoning from trying to attempt the recipe herself?”

“You underestimate my teaching abilities. Just make your own batch and do as I say.” She gives a banged-up metal baking pan a blind toss over her shoulder, and I just barely manage to catch it. “Here, you make your batch in that one so you can take it back to Jeff’s when you go.”

I know that if I try to pry more information out of her about Eddie coming over for dinner, she’s just going to clam up, so as much as I’m dying to know what happened, I keep the questions to myself. What did they talk about for an entire evening? Since when do the two of them just hang out by themselves? Have I missed something between them, or is this a new development? Does Eddie know about her whole… situation with Stone? Wait a minute, I’m jumping the gun, does any of it even matter? Maybe they’re just two lonely, recently dumped people keeping each other company and it’s completely harmless, like she says. Yeah, right, sure, what could possibly go wrong with that?

“Speaking of Jeff, I feel like a shitty friend,” she goes on, pulling cocoa and sugar and who knows what other kind of baking potions out of the cabinet, “how’s stuff going there?”

Whoops. I guess I can’t complain about Cora not telling me anything lately, can I? I haven’t exactly opened up to her about my latest worries.

“It’s fine…” I stall, pretending to read the index card she’s just pulled out of nowhere with the brownie recipe on it, like it’s going to do me any good at all.

“‘Fine?’ No way. Shot first, then spill.”

She plunks a plastic bottle of tequila down in front of me and slides a shot glass over. I guess I earned that.

“Euggghh,” I fight my gag reflex after downing the garbage tequila, “are you sure that’s not nail polish remover? Anyway, everything’s really fine, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just…”

“Say fine again and you take another shot.”

“Alright! I swear, it’s not bad, he just…”

“Lucyyy? What did he do? Do I need to kill him?”

“No! God, no, he just asked me to move in with him.”

She clutches her heart and staggers backward. “Oh, the horror! What did you say to such a depraved request?”

“I told him I needed to think about it.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Uhm… last week? Same day as the whole… thing… here.” I wave my hand around the apartment, still not sure if we’re at the point in her mourning process where I can mention Alex by name or if I should keep pretending he never existed. So far she hasn’t brought him up, so I’ve been taking cues from her.

“And you haven’t talked about it since then? Jesus, you’re an ice queen. Poor guy.”

“Oh, it’s even weirder than that, he seems to think we talked about it once before, but I can’t even remember. I’m the world’s worst girlfriend.”

“Here, see this list of dry stuff? Measure, then mix.” She hands me a whisk and a big bowl, and I try to imitate what she’s doing with her own batch but I can’t help getting flour everywhere and have to pause for another shot just to get my bearings. Cora follows suit. “You’re definitely not the world’s worst girlfriend, I think that title belongs… elsewhere. But he probably deserves an answer soon, don’t you think?”

“I just…”

“SUGAR!”

“What?” Her shout makes me spill even more of the white substance I’m doing a sloppy job of measuring.

“One and a quarter cups sugar, Lucy, you’re pouring out salt!”

“Oh, for the love of…”

Cora bursts out laughing and produces a funnel with which to pour my mountain of salt back into the canister. “You were saying?”

“I don’t know, things are just really good right now, and I don’t see any reason to change them. I really like having my own place.”

My chest feels instantly lighter, having expressed the worry to the one person who probably won’t judge me for feeling it. It’s got nothing to do with Jeff. Jeff’s amazing. So amazing that I’m constantly wondering when something’s going to go terribly wrong and screw up our entire relationship, because I have no previous evidence to suggest that relationships ever last this long without something getting screwed up. Cora thinks for a long moment before handing me the jar of actual sugar.

“Sure, that makes perfect sense. I kind of envy you, honestly, having your own apartment and being able to keep just that little bit of distance. I never really figured that out. If that’s what you need, that doesn’t make you the world’s worst girlfriend.”

“Not talking to him about it kinda does, though.”

“Maybe a little. What’s his plan, though? Does he want you to move into his place or does he want to move downstairs?”

“We haven’t talked about it, I have no clue.”

“Hey, watch what you’re doing, you’re getting eggshell in the batter… and what about Eddie?”

Eddie again, huh? Even apart from the very salient point she’s just raised about my situation, it’s weird that she thought of him before I did. She’s definitely got him on the brain…

“Ugh, shit, I have no idea. I can’t ask him to move out, that would be cruel. He doesn’t know anyone else here yet! And I bet he can’t afford a place of his own.”

“I didn’t say it was a reason not to, I was just wondering if you’d thought about it. And yeah, I don’t know how anyone our age manages not to have a roommate. You corporate fat-cat types with your fancy job things and your big bloated paychecks and your bejeweled monocles, you sicken me. I’m gonna have to start selling plasma soon if I don’t figure out a better way to afford this place by myself.”

“Maybe I should just move in with you, that would solve things.”

“Somewhat undercuts your argument about liking having the apartment all to yourself, though.”

“Ooh, logic, that definitely earns a shot. Maybe a double.”

We go several more rounds debating my boyfriend dilemma, and even though we don’t come up with an answer, it feels good to talk to her about it. I probably shouldn’t have waited so long, but it felt selfish to bring it up with everything going on in her life. If it bothers her, though, she isn’t letting on. Soon the brownies are in the oven and Dirty Dancing is on the TV, and for a while neither of us have to think about guy troubles, at least, any guy troubles unrelated to Patrick Swayze’s hips.

“Fuck me, I always forget about that ‘I carried a watermelon’ thing,” Cora sputters as she gets up to check on the brownies. “Most relatable scene ever filmed.”

I cackle, spilling a little wine into my lap as I twist to shout after her, “how do they look?”

“Uh, you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Shit…”

“I mean the good news is, they look like they’re going to taste okay, no thanks to you. But I think I forgot to tell you to butter the pan first…” she holds the pan in question upside down and shakes it, freeing only a couple crumbs, and dissolving in a fit of snort laughter.

“Don’t blame me, I was just following orders!”

Cora returns with a second bottle of wine and her pan of brownies, which release from the pan much more obediently than the solid brick I baked, and we make short work of both the brownies and the wine. We’re just getting to the big finale dance scene when there’s an abrupt knock on the door that makes both of our drunk asses jump.

“DID YOU MAKE BROWNIES??”

Since it’s my dumbass boyfriend’s voice bellowing at the door, I’m the one who gets up to answer it, and sure enough, there’s Jeff, flanked by Eddie and Mike, with Stone hanging a ways back pretending to be interested in something down the hallway. They all look drunker than we do, which must have taken some effort.

“They DID!” Mike shouts, elbowing past me and making a beeline for Cora’s kitchen. Before either she or I can say anything, he’s attacking the solid mass of brownie in my pan with a fork, undeterred by the aesthetics. Cora’s watching him with a mix of amusement and horror, and I turn back to Jeff for answers.

“Are you guys drunk?”

“Who’sh drunk?” Mike retorts, confirming the answer.

“We, uh, stopped by Cyclops for a few rounds after practice –” Jeff explains.

“– and whose idea was that?” I ask as quietly as I can, watching Stone fidget in the background and Eddie looking like he’s trying to summon an interdimensional portal in the floor beneath his shoes, as usual.

“– but then we remembered you guys would be here doing your movie night thing, and the food’s free here, which is a vast improvement over Cyclops, so…”

I look back at Cora, who’s already getting up from the couch with a grin on her face, resigned to feeding the inebriated invaders. But then her face blanches as if she’s seen a ghost, and I realize she’s only just now noticed Stone. She hurries into the kitchen and sticks her face in the fridge.

“No Matt? Chris?” she calls.

“No, Matt ditched us after practice for a date, and Chris said he’d be by later, he wanted to make  a detour on the way,” Eddie says, slinking past me with a mumbled apology, followed by Stone.

“What part of girls’ night did you not understand?” I round on Jeff, but he’s looking so sheepish that it’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. I settle for a bite of his lip before I let him into the apartment.

***

“Sorry we crashed your movie night,” an unmistakable low rumble says behind me as I’m pulling a six pack out of the fridge.

“Are you kidding? Did you see her selections? I should be thanking you for the distraction.” I straighten up and see Eddie standing in my kitchen, shoulders hunched but barely containing a tight-lipped smile.

“How bad can it be?”

But the sound of Mike and Jeff singing along with Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes answers his question, and he gives a somber nod.

“As long as they don’t attempt the lift, we should be okay. Here, if you have lingering guilt about ruining our evening, your punishment is that you get to take your pan home and clean it, it’s a disaster.”

He takes the baking pan from me, inspecting the caked-on brownie mess left behind after Cready ravaged the edible contents. “Thanks, sorry, I didn’t mean to leave it here.”

Rather than responding, I watch him studying the pan for a moment. I wish I could figure out what to make of this guy. He’s always around at the worst possible moments. It’s a punchline at this point – if I have a horrible day, or if I’m doing my best to be left alone, I know to keep my eyes peeled for Eddie, because I’m bound to run into him. The weird thing is that I don’t even mind it as much anymore. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t expect anything of me, or maybe it’s that we have a weird amount of things in common and I don’t ever feel as though I have to explain myself to him, I don’t know. I’m just… I’m just really glad I met him when I did, and I have no idea how to tell him that without making him uncomfortable, especially since I’m starting to choke up, which is a completely horrifying development.

“Hey, Eddie, I –”

But before I can say anything else, my front door bursts open again, and this time it’s Chris, wearing a wicked smile and carrying large boxes under either arm.

“I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie and I trade winces and then head into the other room to figure out what kind of havoc he’s brought with him. The larger of the two boxes is a 24-pack of shitty beer, which is pretty much par for the course. It’s the label on the other box that I can’t quite… oh my god, he wouldn’t…

“Safety first, Smokey,” he sing-songs as he pushes a value-sized box of condoms against my chest, shoving harder and harder until I finally put my hands on it or risk being knocked over. “Welcome to the dating pool, you’re gonna hate it.”

“Already do,” I cringe, doing my best to ignore the wolf-whistles and applause from the couch behind me. “I’ll just… put these… somewhere…”

“Somewhere you can reach ‘em! Don’t listen to the Pope, you’re gonna need ‘em, it’s a jungle out there!” Chris calls after me as I chuck them into the darkness of my bedroom and close the door, hoping like hell that they’ll land somewhere inconspicuous and I won’t have to relive this mortification ever again. He’s wrong, I’m not gonna need them, they’ll expire before I ever crack open the box, it’s not like there’s a line of dudes beating down my door… I mean, apart from these idiots… and not for reasons that would require prophylactics… oh god, stop thinking about Stone… ugh, I hate my life…

The movie’s already starting by the time I re-join everyone in the living room. Chris is sprawled on the armchair, Mike’s co-opted all of the pillows from my window seat to make himself a nest on the floor, Eddie’s sitting primly in a dining room chair he dragged a few inches away from the table, Lucy’s sitting on Jeff’s lap on one end of the couch, and the only remaining seat, naturally, because that’s how this night is going, is between the two of them and Stone, who’s seated at the other end. He’s got one arm stretched out along the back of the couch and his eyes on the screen, and I’m debating whether I should risk sitting down next to him or find some excuse to avoid it, like washing dishes or lighting myself on fire, when his gaze flickers up to me. In a movement that’s almost a flinch, he folds at the elbow and starts fidgeting with his own ponytail, not entirely removing his arm from behind the only available seat, but at least freeing up a little space, so I take that as a sign that it’s okay for me to sit down. I can feel his obnoxious, beautiful, searching eyes on me as I do, and I do my best to shrink into the cushion, take up as little space as I can, breathe more quietly than normal, anything to avoid the reality that this is the closest together we’ve been since I kissed him. I fold my knees up underneath my chin, hoping he can’t tell that my heart’s racing. Why can’t I just be normal around him now?

“You got enough space?” he whispers. I nod, unwilling to look over at him even though I know he’s still staring at me. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he didn’t look so at home on my sofa. I wish he wasn’t so cute in a baseball cap. I wish he didn’t smell so good. I wish I could stop cataloging his every distracting fidget with the label of his beer bottle or a piece of lint on the couch. For the first and probably last time ever, I wish I could just pay excruciatingly close attention to Ghost.

That last wish turns out to be a mistake when the main characters start fornicating over a pottery wheel to one of the most romantic songs of all time barely ten minutes into the film. Just fucking kill me, this scene goes on forever! Why won’t Stone move his fucking arm from behind the couch?! As if on cue, he leans over and gives a nervous chuckle in my ear.

“They’re really establishing the hell out of this sex scene, huh?”

I can’t bring myself to look at him again, so I just nod, hoping it’s too dark for him to see how red my face is.

“Wait, wait, their hands are clean now! When did they take the time to wash off all that clay?” Jeff shouts, as if he’s disagreeing with a ref’s call at a basketball game. “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG, PATRICK!”

“Jesus, Demi Moore’s sculpting phallic pottery half naked, and you’re paying attention to their handwashing habits?” Stone cranes his neck to gawk at Jeff behind me. “You’re a lucky girl, Lucy.” I lean forward to dodge Jeff’s swipe, which hits its target with a satisfying smack.

Fortunately, the rest of the movie is significantly less embarrassing, and although I’d never admit it to Lucy, it’s not completely terrible. Nearly everyone else has fallen asleep by the time it’s over, with Stone and me seemingly the only ones who manage to stay awake despite the somniferous effect of all the booze and sugar. I don’t know what his excuse is, but I’m still feeling completely wired just from sitting next to him. God, this is why I was single all throughout high school, I can’t just be normal around a guy I have feelings for, I have to make everything awkward for myself. That, and I imbue every little interaction with too much meaning, I mean, he’s probably just watching the movie, there’s no way he’s sitting here analyzing my every movement out of the corner of his eye, the way I’ve been doing to him. At this age, I should know better than to let my expectations run away with me, right? I’m so stupid. This is what we are now, we’re just friends, I need to get that through my head.

And speaking of unrealistic expectations, when the whole group eventually wakes up and heads for the door, I find myself idiotically hoping Stone will circle back after saying goodnight just to say something privately to me, and of course it doesn’t happen. He leaves with everyone else, because what would he even have to say to me? It’s all in my head, anyway.

#behind the sun #chapter 27 #pearl jam #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #matt cameron #jeff ament #chris cornell

[regnbuereisen]

Day 2: Austin

So, I’ve been asked to write this blog in English, so... here I go.

Today started early after a good nights sleep (at least until 4am - jet lag FTW). We slept on and off until we decided to get up at around eight. The AirStream we stay in has electricity and water and everything, but the shower is tiny. It was an adventure just to try to fit under the shower head - the ceiling is so low I had to crouch to rinse the shampoo from my hair.

After a refreshing shower we started to get hungry, so we picked up the car keys and headed to Veracruz for some breakfast tacos. Yummy! Oh, and we ordered “Mexican coke”, which basically is ordinary coke, but it tastes like the one we had when we were kids.

Tasted a lot better than it looks in the photo.

During the whole meal we had company of grackles, which is super exotic for us :)

After breakfast we went to look at the Texas State Capitol building. Impressive architecture, and a wonderful, quiet and green park around. 

Loads of squirrels too.

I’d read about a nice book shop not far from from the building, so we decided to walk there. Five minutes later we returned to the car. Noon and a burning sun... Nope. Better to drive for four minutes.

BookPeople. What a shop! Perfect mix of books and nicknacks. Even a café for thirsty tourists. :)

Just around the corner is Waterloo records. No pictures from there, but heaven for those who collect vinyl, cassettes or cds. 

A small trip to Whole Foods (holy shit it was big!) for water and snacks later, we were back in the car, hunting for lunch. We ended up at Micklethwait for barbecue, and I don’t regret it one bit, even though the heat messes with  my appetite. 

Bought a three-meat-plate with potato salad and a lemon and poppy coleslaw. Perfectly seasoned, perfectly barbecued. 10/10 would definitely recommend. 

Tried a neon coloured soda too. It was GOOD, even though I could practically taste the colour in my throat.

By now we’d been so long in the sun and heat that we had to take a small siesta back at the AirStream. A little nap, and a refill of water and sun cream before we headed out again, this time to South Congress for some shopping and general touristification. 

Found some souvenirs to put on my Christmas tree, and Øyvind bought the cutest necklace for me.

Also: we went to a large sweets shop, where they happened to sell cookies from Hayleycakes, which made me super happy because we didn’t have time to visit the actual store. (Yes, I follow them on instagram, and I’m kinda obsessed).

Stopped bu Allens Boots too. Talk about culture shock. 10.000 boots on shelf upon shelf... Tempting, but spending $400+ for a pair of boots that will never be used again? Nah. Sorry, Mac.

After a short stop at another book shop (of course), we had dinner at June’s all day. The food was splendid (Øyvind had snapper carpaccio, I ordered the fresh mozzarella with cantaloupe and roe. Yummy!), and the service was excellent, but the prices screamed *tourist!!!*.

Then another stop at a grocery store to buy some bread and ingredient for breakfast tomorrow, a tiny pause back at the AirStream before Austin dragged us back out to Ann W. Richards Congress Avenue Bridge for a spot of bat espionage. (Us and about every other tourist in Austin).

Unfortunately the spectacular swarming didn’t happen tonight, but still we sa a good few of the little critters. Super cute, and some of them swooped right over out heads. 

What looks like mosquitos in the photos are actually some of the 1,5 million Mexican free-tailed bats that nests under the the bridge. 

Once it was too dark to see any more bats, we returned back to the AirStream for one last night in Austin before heading west tomorrow. Now the real road trip begins.

[lvfit-blog]

Maui Travel Guide

I live in a really beautiful place. Southern California has nice beaches, stellar hikes, eclectic neighborhoods and palm tree lined streets. So it takes something spectacular for me to be in awe. While in Maui, I found myself stopping to look around and comment on the beauty at least 15 times per day. And I am not exaggerating. The beaches, the plants, the palm trees, the sunsets - everything is gorgeous. 

I went to Maui about three years ago, but we spent most of the time at the resort (if you’ve been to the Four Seasons Wailea, you understand why). So this time we made a point to get out and explore more and it made for the perfect combination of adventure and relaxation. The gym at the Four Seasons is perfect if you want to use equipment without leaving the gorgeous surroundings, so I had no problem getting my fitness on (had to with all those fish tacos, glasses of rose, and dessert every single night ya feel me?). The cardio equipment is in an open air part of the gym and there’s a sundeck with TRX, medicine balls, pull up bars, mats, foam rollers and bands, so it’s the perfect spot to squeeze in a morning workout. I used the gym almost every day, we went to a yoga class, and did a workout on the beach!

RESTAURANTS

Morimoto at the Andaz Hotel: This hotel is a really beautiful location for the restaurant. As you walk down the staircase at night, you pass multiple infinity pools that glisten in the moonlight. There’s a sleek sushi bar, indoor seating, an outdoor bar and an outdoor terrace. We sat on the terrace with curved, upholstered seating (super romantic and comfy) and a view of the ocean and pool. 

I drank sake (I don’t remember which one), and we started with the hamachi tacos, which were delicious - a crunchy shell with the perfect amount of hamachi and avocado inside. Then we ate  the sea urchin carbonara (a little heavy for my taste), braised black cod (insanely delicious), shishito peppers, seafood toban yaki (also ridiculously good - so much lobster, crab and yummy scallops), and a full plate of sushi. This was definitely one of the best meals of the entire vacation. (appetizers range from $16-$30, main courses from $35-$62)

Coconuts: One of my friends read about Coconuts prior to our trip. It turns out that it’s a chain restaurant and there’s one in DTLA now! Trust me, I’ll be checking it out. They’re known for their fish tacos that include slaw with coconut milk. Two tacos come in an order and they’re massive - don’t let the pictures on the wall fool you. The flavors are delicious and each taco includes 17 different ingredients including the fresh fish of the day, cheese, tomatoes, coconut milk coleslaw and mango salsa. I want to go back just for these tacos. Plus, they have beer on tap - my rec is the Bikini Blonde. ($12.75 for an order of fish tacos, around $5 for a beer)

Ululani’s Hawaiian Shave Ice: I’ve been to Hawaii four times, but for some reason I was still under the impression shave ice was the same as a sno cone. I was wrong. Hawaiian Shave Ice is so creamy and soft. Ululani’s signature way is to put a layer of ice cream on the bottom and then the shave ice on top. I went with macadamia nut ice cream to get super Hawaiian and chose strawberry, pineapple and coconut flavors on the shave ice. It was honestly one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted in my entire 31 years of living. Again, I am not exaggerating. And I love food. Especially dessert. (around $7/$8 for a medium)

Monkey Pod: Monkey Pod is one of those places that you keep hearing about when you’re in the area, but aren’t quite sure what to think. Every time we asked a local or someone working in the hotel where to go for dinner outside of the Four Seasons, they said Monkey Pod. But they also told us it was a little like a sports bar, so we weren’t sure what to think. Finally on the last night, after hitting all the restaurants on our list, we decided to try it out. It was super casual with a fun bar and cute outdoor patio (where we sat). We ordered the lobster pizza to share as an appetizer (pretty good, although I’m a red sauce person, so it wouldn’t be my first choice), and I got the fish tacos (see a pattern yet?). I will order fish tacos anywhere they are offered, especially in Hawaii. The tacos were great - the mahi mahi was blackened and full of flavor and they were topped with a spicy salsa, avocado and jalepenos. YUM. They’re known for their strawberry pie, so you know we had to test it out. It had a filling that was similar to cheese cake, but less dense - the strawberries on top were to die for. (pizza -$27, fish tacos, $24)

BEACHES

Makena State Park: 

Big Beach: This is my favorite beach I’ve been to in Hawaii so far. Just like it sounds, it was huge, with sand the color of that macaroni and cheese Crayola crayon, and water so clear and turquoise that you can see to the bottom even when you’re in five feet of water. The waves were gnarly and there were tons of locals surfing and skimboarding. There’s usually a Jaws food truck in the parking lot selling fish tacos and burritos. I tried the fish burrito for a change - it was really fresh and the salsas were full of flavor. Should’ve gone for the tacos though. 

If you walk to one edge of the beach, there’s a rock you can climb over to get to Little Beach. Little Beach is a nude beach with LOTS of interesting scenery if you know what I mean.

Turtle Beach in Paia: We went to Paia Town our first full day in Maui. It’s a cutie little eclectic hippy town with lots of shops and restaurants. I recommend stopping by just to walk around and get a Shaved Ice at Ululani’s. If you go right past the town, there’s a beach with tons of locals and their little kids surfing and some massive turtles. It’s definitely worth seeing and spending some time on the beach. 

OTHER: 

Snorkel with Kai Kanani Sailing: We researched several different snorkel excursions and we chose this one because we wanted to be around other people (there were about 25 of us on the boat) and be on a nice catamaran. The excursion took us to Molokini Crater and Turtle Town. Molokini had super rough water, so it was difficult to see anything, much less snorkel. We took a boat ride to Turtle Town expecting to see turtles, but there were only three on a nearby beach. Overall, we were a little disappointed in the lack of visibility and the lack of turtles, but the boat was great. The staff was super friendly and knowledgable and the food was pretty good. They provided snacks throughout the trip and a lunch after Turtle Town. I also like the fact that it was BYOB - we brought some champagne (literally the only group that took them up on the booze offer) and had some drinks - post snorkel of course. (around $200 per person)

Nap in a Hammock: This might sound simple, but I was in Hawaii 10 days (5 in Kona and 5 in Maui) and didn’t get in a hammock until the last day. They are everywhere, and are perfect to lounge around with a book or nap in the sun. (FREE)

#maui #maui travel guide #what to do in maui #where to stay in maui #where to eat in maui #maui restaurants #laura varney #snorkel maui

[the-angry-vegetarian]

Accidental Vegetarian Restaurants in Denver

My fellow vegetarians, vegans, pescatarians, pollotarians, flexitarians, gluten free picky eaters and hipster sell out fad poseurs - fam, let’s be real, eating out when you have a peculiar and particular diet sucks. It is way too easy to come off like a rude and spoiled squab, a douche, with ‘special dietary needs’ that can seem very unnecessary and finicky in the wrong environment. Let me put it this way, you wouldn’t go to a fish taco truck and order a number five, ask where the fish came from, hold the fish, replace the fish with coleslaw and mention how ‘it wouldn’t hurt if you charged me less because frankly, I’m paying for bread and cabbage…..’ 

So where does this leave you?

You’re either stuck with a niche, culture-vulture establishment that serves overpriced food (a parasite, if you will, feeding off the vegan market looking to make money with only investors and half assed tofu-centric menu items at the core of its business, ubiquitous vegan establishments who will remain nameless) – or sad side items consisting of starches and ‘seasonal vegetables’, which are more often than not three sprigs of $6 asparagus cooked in bacon fat, or a minimal house salad where you will probably have to ask that the kitchen ‘hold the ham’, or the worst - nothing at all other than chips and a Cliff bar from 711.

Before you give up on going out, there is hope. 

My favorite places are what I call accidental vegetarian spots. Places, who, through their genuine effort and passion to provide flavorful, delicious food, have come up with menu items which are not only vegetarian friendly, but are actually made with quality ingredients and care… like someone actually took the time to think about what the fuck food they were preparing for you to eat. Unlike the trash veggie burger at Park and Company – if you’ve ever had that rice, corn slop – you feel me.

If you find yourself in Denver, out with friends, looking for something that will satisfy everyone - even those nasty carnivores you hang out with - see below for a short list of note worthy destinations.

My Brother’s Bar - getting lit as never been so charming

Established in 1873 and located just north of down town Denver, My Brother’s Bar is a delightful, fried food haven. All self respecting beer drinking Americans are encouraged to check this place out. In addition to the many brews and liquors available at this full service bar, the menu also features a variety of classics, including burgers, jalapeno poppers, hot dogs, sandwiches, salads and an incredible veggie burger – The Boulder Burger. When this morsel arrives to the table, professionally wrapped in fast food fashion, accompanied by what Yelp reviewers call ‘an interesting condiment box’ filled with pickles, onions, peppers and relish – it is an exciting experience like no other. On top of all that, this patty (made in-house) is as tasty and satisfying as that double cheese I know ya’ll miss from that golden arched McMonster. Whether you dine inside or out on the private patio, My Brother’s Bar is sure to hit the spot.

Torta Grill - quick, hot and satisfying (oooo baby)

Tucked away between N Williams St and N High St on Colfax is an affordable and deliciously unique compact take-out café – Denver’s Torta Grill. Vegetarians rejoice! Torta Grill has several tasty veggie options, including this cactus filled delight – The Enrique. Stuffed full between two delicate, fluffy slices of bolillo bread is cactus, egg, panela cheese, red peppers and other grilled veggies. Warm, gooey and grilled, this traditional sandwich boasts an awesome flavor. Cactus is not easy to find in Denver, and the chefs at Torta Grill are experts. Try this with their signature “Red” or “Natural” juice and you my friend are set up for a satisfying experience.

The Universal - brunch that will satisfy everyone (including ur sinning friends)

This traditional breakfast is perfect for vegetarians looking to soak up last night’s mistakes. The potatoes are crispy and salty, the toast is perfect for scooping up those escaped egg innards and The Universal’s vegetarian sausage patties are to die for. Friends, resist the urge to ask your server if a mistake was made with the order. Yes, they taste just like breakfast sausage, they look just like breakfast sausage but believe it or not, these little sausage patties are one hundred percent vegetarian. We swear! The next time a serious breakfast is in order, The Universal has you covered.

Whether you’re a vegan or carnivore, flexitarian or someone who just loves to flex on others with shitty labels that really don’t mean anything - srsly, google it - I love you and hope you enjoy these establishments as much as I do! 

Thanks for reading,

The Angry Vegetarian 

#Denver #denver vegetarian #diet #restaurant #restaurant review #review #reviews #denver reviews #vegetarian review #vegetarian diet #funny article #denver eats #denver restaurant #vegetarian restaurant #vegetarian restaurants

[wijakartuya]

Fried chicken sandwich. I asked myself, if I wanted a crispy fried chicken sandwich that tastes great, but is done in the least amount of time possible, with ingredients I always. These fried chicken sandwiches are AMAZING and so easy - just soak in buttermilk, dredge, and Then on went the fried chicken, the bacon, the Swiss cheese. I love the crunch and tang of slaw, so I.

Dip the marinated chicken in the flour mixture until the chicken is completely covered. This fried chicken sandwich sandwich is engineered for maximum impact. Each element is awesome, but the way they come together puts it over the top.

Hello everybody, I hope you're having an incredible day today. Today, we're going to make a distinctive dish, fried chicken sandwich. It is one of my favorites food recipes. For mine, I will make it a little bit tasty. This is gonna smell and look delicious.

Fried chicken sandwich is one of the most well liked of recent trending foods in the world. It's appreciated by millions daily. It is easy, it's quick, it tastes yummy. They are nice and they look fantastic. Fried chicken sandwich is something that I have loved my entire life.

I asked myself, if I wanted a crispy fried chicken sandwich that tastes great, but is done in the least amount of time possible, with ingredients I always. These fried chicken sandwiches are AMAZING and so easy - just soak in buttermilk, dredge, and Then on went the fried chicken, the bacon, the Swiss cheese. I love the crunch and tang of slaw, so I.

To begin with this recipe, we have to prepare a few components. You can have fried chicken sandwich using 17 ingredients and 8 steps. Here is how you can achieve it.

The ingredients needed to make Fried chicken sandwich:

{Take 50 gm of plain flour (maida).

{Prepare 200 ml of butter milk.

{Get 150 gm of puffed rice.

{Make ready 2 tsp of garlic powder.

{Prepare 2 tsp of onion powder.

{Get 4 tsp of kashmiri red chilli powder.

{Prepare 1 tsp of dried herbs.

{Make ready 8 of mini chicken breast fillets.

{Prepare 4 of buns.

{Make ready 1 of avocado (peeled & cut into sliced).

{Take 1/2 of iceberg lettuce (shredded).

{Prepare of Salt and black pepper as per taste.

{Make ready 2 tsp of Mexican hot sauce.

{Take of For yoghurt dressing :.

{Make ready 70 ml of youghurt.

{Get 8-10 of garlic (crushed).

{Make ready 1 tsp of vinegar.

Chicken sandwiches are so clucking good! The good news is the Super Cluckin' Fried Chicken Sandwich is so addictive it has a cult following. The chicken sandwich is the ultimate workday lunch to make with leftover meat. Chicken sandwiches can be a touchy topic.

Instructions to make Fried chicken sandwich:

Preheat the oven to 180 degree.

Put the flour, butter milk and puffed rice into three bowls.season the flour with salt and pepper. Add garlic, onion powder, kashmiri red chilli powder and dried herbs to the butter milk and mix well.crush the puffed rice with your hands so that the pieces are broken down slightly but not powdered..

Dip a piece of chicken into the flour so that it is completly covered.remove and shake off any excess, then dip into the butter milk. Allow any excess butter milk to drip off, then put the chicken piece into the puffed rice and nicely coated both side then place on a baking tray.

Put the tray into the preheated oven and bake for 25 - 30 mins, until golden and cooked through, turning halfway through cooking..

Make the yoghurt dressing, mix together the yoghurt, crushed garlic and vinegar with a little salt and pepper..

Slice open the buns and place avocado top with shredded lettuce..

Once chicken is cooked place on top of the lettuce and spoon full of yoghurt dressing over it and mexican sauce also..

Close the bun and serve hot.

What type of batter works better—tight coats of seasoning and flour that shatter into My rules were simple: The chicken sandwich had to be fried. Chicken Fried Tofu Sandwiches will impress vegetarians and omnivores alike. Crispy, pan-fried tofu, spicy mayo, and a simple slaw piled high on a toasted bun for the ultimate vegan sandwich. When it comes to fried chicken sandwiches this Little Italy take-out joint doesn't mess around. Their classic sandwich will land you a huge piece of chicken fried to perfection and topped with coleslaw.

So that's going to wrap this up for this special food fried chicken sandwich recipe. Thanks so much for reading. I am confident that you can make this at home. There is gonna be interesting food at home recipes coming up. Don't forget to save this page on your browser, and share it to your family, friends and colleague. Thanks again for reading. Go on get cooking!

#recipesfood

[thealmostchef]

Lesson time: Salads that won’t Leaf you

Friday 20th April 2018

Today was a training kitchen day. In our college, there is a training kitchen, along with the places of work, such as the Bistro (Where i work) and the Refec (the Main College canteen). I work alongside other Level 2 students from the college’s actual courses and we get a four hour lesson, where our food probably won’t get sold (sometimes they do, not that they tell the students that), and we can just focus on the techniques and the recipes. In other words, if you are going to make mistakes, it is best to do them here. I don’t go into work on these day, because after lesson, I get a three hour study leave, when I research the theory for my course.

This weeks lesson, we were given the handouts which contained the recipes for three salads, a Waldorf salad, Coleslaw salad, and a Nicoise salad. Any salad aficionados might notice that in all of these compound salads, none of them had any leafy greens in them. No lettuce, rocket, spinach or anything. I’m always up for new things (and not that keen on Leafy salads), so i was happy right off the bat.

First off, the simple ones. To start, coleslaw:

The first thing i noticed in the kitchen was a distinct lack of mayonnaise. I then turned over the sheet with the recipe on and found that there was a recipe to hand make fresh mayonnaise. No using the stuff out of the fridge. Oh, and no electric whisks or food processors. Neato.

Turns out is really isn’t hard, or that time consuming. it took about two minutes to gather and prepare the ingredients, and about ten minutes of whisking. On top of that, it tasted much better than pre-made stuff.

After that was out of the way, it was just julienne (Finely slice into matchsticks) cabbage and onion, and grate the carrot. In short, simple and effective, and personally, if you can try and make your own mayonnaise, at least once. You might like it better.

Next, Waldorf:

The waldorf was much the same as the coleslaw. Instead of cabbage, use celeriac root, instead of the onion use apple, and replace the carrot with walnuts. We are currently learning healthy eating substitutes as well, so this was made with yogurt instead of mayonnaise.

Another easy salad, but sweeter than the coleslaw, with much the same texture.

Finally, the Nicoise:

A much more impressive compound salad. A mixture of salad cut potatoes (tiny cubes, only briefly boiled) trimmed green beans, capers, olives and anchovies, this salad was more robust and filling than the others. On top of that, the dressing, a french vinaigrette, was homemade and customisable. I used rapeseed oil and balsamic vinegar, while the lecturer had used white wine vinegar and olive oil. The main difference here, is that his dish was lighter in colour, while not lacking in the flavour of the vinegar, but my vinaigrette was darker, richer and marginally healthier.

This was my favorite dish of the day and one i shall be making again at some point.

This was a great lesson in the variety of salads, while keeping a core message on the elements of a compound salad.

I shall post the recipes i used in the following days, but for now i shall end off. TheAlmostChef, Clocking out.

~R

P.S. At the start I said I don’t have to go to work on my college days, but today, the kitchen was two members down, not including the two of us in the training kitchen, so I popped my head in and helped the other get some desserts prepped for a table of twenty that arrived an hour before their booking. Needless to say, I went home and put the books aside for an hour or so to rest. It didn’t help that we here hit with a heat wave this week, and our air-conditioner in the kitchen doesn’t work properly.

[everywherethelighttouches-blog1]

Thai-hini Tempeh Spring Rolls

My first attempt at making spring rolls was a scrumptious success! I bought the spring roll wrappers at a salvage grocery store for $0.50 several months ago, but they have been hiding in my cabinets ever since. This was also my first time to try tempeh, but it is great! I like it much better than tofu. I made a slaw with Annie's Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette, which I stuffed in my spring rolls and put atop my side salad.  I also made a spicy Thai curry dip to top it off. 

Half of a package of tempeh made 6 spring rolls for me, and I was so full I could not finish my salad. Luckily, I have a husband for that. ;)

Ingredients: 

Spring roll wrappers

Tempeh

Soy Sauce

Garlic paste

Shredded cabbage

Carrots

Cucumbers

Green onions

Sesame seeds

Tahini

Thai red curry paste

Annie's Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette

Ginger paste

Salad greens of your choice ( I had kale, romaine, and red leaf)

Blueberries

Instructions:

Fill a large bowl or dish with a few inches of water, room temperature. 

Chop carrots, cucumbers, and green onions into thin strips. 

Mix Annie's Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette with coleslaw mix or shredded cabbage and sesame seeds. How much dressing you use depends on how soaked you like your slaw.

Mix 1/4 cup of tahini with 1 tablespoon of Thai red curry paste, 1 teaspoon of garlic paste, and 1 teaspoon of ginger paste for dipping. Depending on your tahini, you may have to thin this with water. Salt to taste.  

Slice tempeh in thin strips, sautee with soy sauce, garlic, and ginger paste in a skillet. 

Assemble your spring rolls. Follow the directions on your package of spring rolls. I put slaw, carrots, cucumbers, green onions, and two or three tempeh strips in each spring roll. 

Assemble your salad. I put the slaw on top of my greens and added blueberries, carrots, cucumbers, and green onions. You may like to add more dressing. I didn't need to. 

#tempeh #soy sauce #garlic #ginger #coleslaw #carrots #cucumbers #green onions #sesame seeds #tahini #thai red curry paste #Annie's Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette #kale #romaine #red leaf lettuce #blueberries #vegan #gluten free #vegetarian

[junker-town]

New MLB stadium food in 2020, ranked

Some of these are amazing. Others ... not so much.

The best arms race in baseball, hands down, is weird ballpark food. With Opening Day around the corner, we ranked 19 of the most ludicrous menu items teams are serving up this season.

No. 1: Chicken Churro Sandwich (Detroit Tigers) “Chicken tender topped with Michigan maple syrup on a churro bun”

There is not a single thing wrong with this. It feels like a twist on chicken and waffles in a way I can absolutely get down with. Sometimes you don’t need to cram nine million things into a single food item. Just give me some fried chicken and something sweet and I’m yours. I do wish there was a heat element to this, but it gets top marks just for using the phrase “churro bun.”

No. 2: Friar’s Fries (San Diego Padres) “Fries, pork belly lechon, chicharron crumbles, pickled red onions, sweet drop peppers, cilantro aioli, scallions, smoked mozzarella”

The entire “loaded fries” concept is a bit of a minefield. My general opinion is throwing stuff on fries is the easy way out in making a “wacky” item that lacks imagination. Friar’s Fries are an exception. You have salty, sweet, and sour, and just when you think it’s all over they hit you with smoked mozzarella. Bravo, Padres.

No. 3: KFC (Minnesota Twins) “Korean fried chicken with a honey, garlic and gochujang sauce”

Yes, I have two fried chicken sandwiches in the top three. Fight me. The KFC sounds simple, but once you dive into the ingredients you know it’s a banger. I’d eat two right now and regret it later.

No. 4: The Pig Mac (Detroit Tigers) “Smoked pulled pork, macaroni and cheese, onion straws, sliced jalapeno peppers, drizzled with BBQ sauce on an onion roll”

As someone who lives in North Carolina, I have a natural and well-earned mistrust of any city outside the state serving up pulled pork. That said, on paper, this hits all the right notes. I need to know whether the pork is served with a proper vinegar-based sauce, or that thick, brown, flavor-masking goop made for children with unevolved palates. The sliced jalapenos are a nice touch.

No. 5: The Rattler (Texas Rangers) “Watch out, this sausage has a bite! A rattlesnake sausage grilled to perfection and served on a fresh hoagie roll. Drizzled with Venom sauce. Served with Lay’s potato chips.”

I don’t really know what to think of this, but I do know I want to try it. I’ve only had rattlesnake once, and it was largely uneventful, but this iteration leaves me with questions. What is Venom sauce? Why are you serving this with plain-ass chips? The mind boggles.

No. 6: Greek Fry (Milwaukee Brewers) “Fries topped with gyro meat, tzatziki sauce, feta crumbles and diced tomatoes.”

Another entry in the “loaded fries” conversation. I like this idea in theory, but it feels a little uninspired. Personally, I would like to see a squeeze of lemon and some parsley to really tie together all these flavors.

No. 7: Nashville Hot Chicken Sliders (St. Louis Cardinals) “Two breaded and fried homestyle chicken breasts with Nashville hot oil and pickles on a slider bun.”

Nashville hot chicken is one of the greatest contributions to the American culinary landscape. This would rank higher on my list, but serving it in St. Louis breaks my brain a little bit. I’m sure it’s good, but probably no better than something I could find locally, which makes it a middle-of-the-pack item.

No. 8: NE Italian Sandwich (Minnesota Twins) “Mortadella, salami, ham and ‘nduja, Alemar cheese fromage blanc with greens and pickled vegetables on Baker’s Field bread.”

Kudos for adding some ‘ndjua here, Twins. For the uninitiated, it’s basically spreadable sausage pate and it’s wonderful. Other than that, this is a pretty bog-standard Italian sandwich, which is excellent, but doesn’t really get me too excited overall.

No. 9: BBQ Brisket and Pork Platter (Chicago White Sox) “In-house smoked brisket or pork served with a choice of two sides: mac ‘n cheese, baked beans or spicy coleslaw, also served with spicy pickle chips and a slice of white bread”

It’s a BBQ plate. Pretty average. Nothing too special or overwhelming. I’m sure it’s fine. I have some serious questions about the “in-house” smoking process. Is someone really coming in hours in advance to smoke this correctly? I just don’t know.

No. 10: Top Dog (St. Louis Cardinals) “1/3-pound hot dogs, bratwursts, and Italian sausages with over 24 cold toppings and six hot toppings available”

This is a hot dog or sausage. It’s fine.

No. 11: The Stack! (Texas Rangers) “Nachos like you have never seen them before! Crisp tostadas layered with Tostitos tortilla chips and your favorite nacho toppings including pulled pork, Rico’s nacho cheese sauce, Rico’s jalapeno peppers and our stadium chili. The perfect nacho for sharing.”

I was really torn on how to grade this one. On the one hand, no, I have not seen nachos on top of tostadas before. I also don’t know if I need to see nachos on top of tostadas. Where this gets marked down is the immense amount of branding on every item. It feels too processed to me, and that’s a turn off. I like that this item has an exclamation point in its name. Makes it feel dangerous.

No. 12: Loaded Poutine Fries (Detroit Tigers) “Crispy waffle fries topped with smoked brisket, cheese curds, smothered in brown gravy”

Poutine is glorious, but this has an inherent structural problem. You have runny brown gravy, so you need a solid item to contain it. Waffle fries aren’t the appropriate fry selection for this dish! An unforced error that should have been caught in testing.

No. 13: Chi Town Fries (Chicago White Sox) “Hot and crispy French fries topped with nacho cheese and our famous Chi Town pico.”

This is when loaded fries get really lazy. Nothing wrong with them, but I wouldn’t order these on a menu.

No. 14: Chicken Sandwich (Milwaukee Brewers) “Hot chicken topped with cabbage slaw, honey mayo and dill pickles.”

They knew this item was so boring it didn’t deserve a fun name.

No. 15: Walking Taco (Chicago White Sox) “A bag of Doritos served with nacho cheese, chili and jalapenos”

Look, I’m sure this is delicious, but I can’t imagine an item that sounds more thrown together by stoners at a 7/11 than this. I have never had a walking taco. In fact, I was so surprised my coworkers all knew what a walking taco was that I was convinced they were gaslighting me. I can go to the gas station right now and make this item myself, so there’s no need to pay a stadium premium for it.

No. 16: Tiger Corn (Detroit Tigers) “Blueberry coated popcorn mixed with cheese popcorn”

Dammit, Tigers, you were doing so well! This is a mess. I can get down on the salty/sweet combo of kettle corn or Cracker Jack, but mixing blueberry with cheese is an abomination. I know you wanted it to reflect your team colors, but this is an affront to tastebuds everywhere.

No. 17: The Smokehouse Parfait (Cincinnati Reds) “BBQ pulled pork, mac and cheese with coleslaw in a bread cone”

Leave it to Cincinnati to take a perfectly fine item and mess it all up by serving this shit in a cone made out of bread. The entire point of a barbecue platter is you can sample around, take your tastebuds on a lap. In parfait form, you’re required to eat barbecue in a regimented, planned order — and that’s not in the spirit of barbecue.

No. 18: The ‘Slugger’ (Cincinnati Reds) “1/4-pound hot dog corn battered and fried (and red!)”

Jesus, Cincinnati, give it a rest. You made a corn dog — good job. Then you’re advertising the fact this is one of those cheap red hot dogs you find on the bottom shelf of the grocery store. That is not a selling point, and you deserve to be scolded for it.

No. 19: S’mores Frybox (Cincinnati Reds) “Crispy fries with marshmallows, chocolate syrup, cinnamon graham crackers and M&M’s”

Now you’re just trolling me, Cincinnati. Dessert fries? You monsters.