#scrap stock recipe

[demonofnoontide]

Soups, Stews and Chili Recipe Save your vegetable scraps for making a delicious homemade stock you can use in any soup, stew, or braise.

#scrap mixture #scrap stock recipe #groups #recipe #vegetables #depth

[whatshouldeventerscallme]

Vegetable Scrap Stock Recipe Save your vegetable scraps for making a delicious homemade stock you can use in any soup, stew, or braise.

#scrap stock #vegetable scraps #depth #soups #scrap stock recipe #scrap mixture #groups

[unproduciblesmackdown]

tbt the deh days baking motif interviews like it's time for will roland cooking v'logs while someone is there to pepper in q&a moments & conversation (&/or extended tangents) starters

#or difficult to say how general/extensive his cooking knowledge is but like 4 pts of evidence abt his Meat Heat technique nowadays #and joel crump's bwaytime interview where he builds a little dish spontaneously....tell us more #(he'd slice quarter inch strips of spam & saute them; have on a nicely crusted bread; add a sweet jam; maybe pickled/fermented onions) #maybe there's been an occasion between 2017/18 & now to learn/practice/hone a skill at home....maybe #tragically one Montage where he's sharing his bacon recipe instead cuts the clips around michael park's bacon recipe lmao #like ok noted 350F in an oven for 25min but will introduced the topic & is talking abt fresh cuts & presumed stoveTop cooking. please lol #summer stock grillmaster....& i think another occasion he mentioned his Skills here #also shoutout to that deh Movie baking virtual interview where nik dodani left in the middle to buy some butter #will roland #whatever will talks abt: a banger occasion. cherished deh nhie video where so little is about deh lmao #bits in either deh baking video like little abt deh b/c there was so little they could tell + Character Questions just generally so rare #the [having a bit of room & start sharing hc's for details of jellicle cats' sexuality] gift that we need more of fr keeps on giving #the classic cats tangents of anytime prior. appreciating the summer stock dancing going off like ah #just like will saying he was just fuming about Tepid Applause in the Big Theater for cats elaborate costumed mega dance break. word #talk about dry technical whatever like hell yes engaging & i love information. pool chlorination. what of the lighting knowhow #& the realest point here is oh boy keep scattering scraps of culinary knowledge in whatever random little moments; epic. jot that down #edit that i was like ''did i say sautee; that seems unnecessary. he probably said seared'' & indeed he said sear it on both sides #sounds great i'd want this spam bread jam pickled fermented onions situation. & the bacon of the unheard recipe

[writedisaster]

        this blog is a safe space for storebought veggie stock haters

#//oh for the halcyon days when i lived in a house with a standup freezer and we had so much room to save veg scraps and make our own #//storebought veggie stock will see a perfectly good soup recipe and say ''is anyone gonna make that taste bitter and bad'' #//and not wait for an answer #out of coherence | OOC

[twiceastasty]

Homemade Vegetable Stock

When I make stock, it feels cost-free and effortless: I use whatever’s at hand, and it happens in the background of my day. Learn to make Homemade Vegetable Stock.

Any chef will point to stock as an easy way to add flavor. I use stocks the most from fall to spring, as the base for soups, to flavor rice or beans, and to round out sauces. Although you can simply use water in many of these dishes for the same effect, swapping in a stock gives a jump-start to a tasty meal. Although many recipes include a stock in the ingredient list, they don’t mention how easy…

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#easy stocks #flathead beacon #food column #homemade stocks #recipe #scratch-made stocks #stock recipe #top-to-root eating #using scraps #vegetable scraps

[thoughtportal]

homemade vegan vegetable stock cubes

What could you do with leftover vegetables scraps at the end of the week? Make stock cubes! You can use any sort of leftover vegetables to make your own all natural stock cubes! The process is super straightforward and you can make enough to store and use for months.

Ingredients 🥦🥕🍠🟨

1kg Assorted leftover vegetables (carrot peels,celery, broccoli stems ,cauliflower leaves,soft veg ,onion, leeks, mushrooms, etc.)

4 x cloves of garlic

1 teaspoon of salt

1 teaspoon of nutritional yeast

Herbs & spices

Salt & pepper

Olive oil Instructions 🥣

Gather your leftover vegetables and make sure they are clean and edible.

Chop the vegetables into smaller pieces

Sauté them with 2 tbsp of olive oil until

They release all the flavours and most of the water has evaporated

Let the veg cool for a bit

In a blender add the cooked vegetables , garlic,spices and herbs salt & black pepper.

Blend the mixture until it becomes a smooth puree.

Line a flat, shallow pan with parchment paper. Pour the vegetable puree onto the pan and smooth it out evenly.

Place the pan in the freezer and let it freeze until it’s solid.

Remove the frozen vegetable puree from the pan and cut it into cubes.

(Optional )Wrap each cube in parchment paper or place them in an airtight container. Store the wrapped cubes in the freezer .

Now you have your homemade vegan vegetable stock cubes in a convenient frozen form to enhance the flavor of your recipes whenever needed. Just take out a cube or two from the freezer for your cooking!

{watch}

#tiktok #homemade vegan vegetable stock cubes #vegan #recipes #recipe #stock #soup

[wiisagi-maiingan]

Absolutely surreal to me how so many stock recipes are using whole veggies and shit. Like is that a thing people do?? Just use whole vegetables that they'll throw away??? Dear god, I don't have enough money for that, I use scraps like any normal person.

[oceans-beloved]

★｡:*･.Thaumoyaki Recipe .･*:｡★

Thaumoyaki, or Grilled Thaumo Balls, originated in Osaka and are one of Japan’s best-known street foods. Whether you make a traditional style with bits of Thaumo or choose creative alternatives, these ball-shaped dumplings are fun to make with your friends and family!

Thaumoyaki is a Japanese snack in the shape of little round balls containing pieces of Thaumo. Thaumo-yaki literally translates to “thaumo-grilled/fried” and some people may call it “Grilled Thaumo Balls” or “Thaumo Dumplings”.

PREP TIME: 15minutes mins

COOK TIME: 10minutes mins

TOTAL TIME: 25minutes mins

SERVINGS: 26 pieces

INGREDIENTS

For the filling:-

3 g katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes) 

2 green onions/scallions

1 Tbsp pickled red ginger (beni shoga or kizami beni shoga)

120 g Thaumo sashimi (boiled Thaumo)

For the Batter:-

120 g all-purpose flour (plain flour)

2 tsp baking powder

½ tsp Diamond Crystal kosher salt

2 large eggs (50 g each w/o shell)

1 tsp soy sauce

360 ml dashi (Japanese soup stock)

For Cooking:-

2 Tbsp neutral oil

15 g tenkasu/agedama (tempura scraps)

For the Toppings:-

120 ml Thaumoyaki sauce

Japanese Kewpie mayonnaise

katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes)

aonori (dried green laver seaweed)

pickled red ginger (beni shoga or kizami beni shoga)

INSTRUCTIONS

Gather all the ingredients.

To Prepare the Filling:-

Grind 3 g katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes) into a fine powder. Set aside; we‘ll use this powder when we‘re cooking the Thaumoyaki.

Cut 2 green onions/scallions into fine slices and mince 1 Tbsp pickled red ginger (beni shoga or kizami beni shoga).

Cut 120 g Thaumo sashimi (boiled Thaumo) into ½-inch (1.3-cm) bite-sized pieces

To Make the Batter:-

In a large mixing bowl, combine 120 g all-purpose flour (plain flour), 2 tsp baking powder, and ½ tsp Diamond Crystal kosher salt and whisk it all together.

Add 2 large eggs (50 g each w/o shell), 1 tsp soy sauce, and 360 ml dashi (Japanese soup stock).

Whisk it all together until well blended and transfer the batter to a measuring cup with a handle (or any other pitcher with a spout for easy pouring.)

To Cook the Thaumoyaki:-

Heat the Thaumoyaki pan to 400ºF (200ºC) over medium heat. Use a brush to generously grease the pan‘s rounded chambers and flat top surface with 2 Tbsp neutral oil. When smoke starts to rise, pour the batter to fill the chambers. It’s okay to slightly overfill the cavities. In the next steps, the batter will likely overflow as you add more ingredients to it.

Add 1–3 Thaumo pieces, depending on their size, to each chamber and sprinkle on top the katsuobushi powder that you ground earlier.

Sprinkle 15 g tenkasu/agedama (tempura scraps), the green onion slices, and the chopped pickled red ginger on top. After 3 minutes or so, when the batter on the bottom has set and is slightly crisp, use skewers to break the connected batter between each chamber. Then, rotate each piece 90 degrees (a quarter turn) toward the bottom of the pan, stuffing the connected dough back into the ball as you turn it. The uncooked batter will flow out from inside to create another side of the ball. After you finish turning them, set a timer for 4 minutes.

After 4 minutes, rotate them again, starting with the first ball: Turn each Thaumoyaki another 90 degrees toward the bottom of the pan so the remaining uncooked batter pours out into the chamber to complete the ball shape. Home Thumoyaki griddles don‘t distribute heat evenly, so it’s a good idea to swap the balls around to different chambers so they brown evenly. After turning and cooking for another 4 minutes, they are done.

To Serve:-

Transfer them onto a plate and drizzle 120 ml takoyaki sauce and Japanese Kewpie mayonnaise on top. Finish the dish with a sprinkling of katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes) and aonori (dried green laver seaweed) and a side of pickled red ginger (beni shoga or kizami beni shoga). Serve immediately. (But, be careful—they‘re VERY hot inside!)

To Store:-

You can keep the leftovers in an airtight container and store in the refrigerator for 3 days or in the freezer for 2–3 weeks.

Join us next time for a quick 15 minutes "Crispy Hot Butter Nalis" recipe!

This beautiful ingredient character belongs to @symptomsofdeceit

PLEASE GO PLAY SYMPTOMS OF DECEIT!!! YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED!!!!TRUST ME!!!!

And if you want to actually make takoyaki this is the original recipe

#symptoms of deceit vn #symptoms of deceit #thaumo #yandere vn #yandere visual novel #nalis #💬 #🐙 #yandere boy

[cod-dump]

Cooking/Food:

Ghost: Man has a iron stomach and has been surviving off anything he can get his hands on. He doesn't cook because he simply doesn't care and food presentation means nothing to him. If something needs to be cooked to become edible he will but he doesn't go beyond instructions. Salt and pepper is the most he's willing to use to season. One of the only people who isn't afraid to eat whatever Alex makes.

Roach: More of a food thief rather than a cook. He knows the basics about cooking and normally just lives off microwave meals. Will steal someones food unless he has a reason to not want to. Anything made by Ghost is out of the question and he ignores Alejandro/Rudy's homemade meals because they might kill him.

Graves: Doesn't cook much but actually is a very good cook. Southern comfort/soul food is his specialty. Man knows how to make the crispiest, juiciest fried pork chops you have ever had. Has made food for people that he liked in the past but now only cooks for himself and that rarely happens. The stars have to be aligned for him to be in the mood to cook.

Soap: Fantastic cook. Roach tries to steal from him the most even though Soap is not above killing someone for his food. He loves to cook and loves to cook for people he cares about. If you're hungry, ask and you will be satisfied. Soap is all about fresh ingredients, has a variety of spices, the most expensive cookbooks and cookware-- Used to dream of being a chef but had a change in career paths in his late teens.

Price: Is a very good cook and is the master of making gourmet meals out of scraps and poor choice ingredients. Can make a five course meal out of a 'empty' fridge. The quickest way to his heart is a home cooked meal, doesn't matter if it's good or not. Absolutely will feed anyone if they ask him to cook. Loves to cook, much like Soap.

Farah: She knows how to cook pretty well but she doesn't do it often. Tends to only cook for special occasions and for certain people. Food is her love language and you know where you stand with her if she offers you a plate. Farah doesn't shy away from spice and loves buying exotic spices when she's traveling. Has multiple different kinds of the same spice because she can't help herself.

Alex: Commits food crimes on the daily. Makes unholy concoctions and has been banned from the kitchen on multiple different occasions by various people. Has actually made Graves cook by simply being horrible at cooking. No one knows if he's trying to purposely burn water or if he's just shit in the kitchen. Food is also his love language but because of his inability to cook he just buys expensive food for people.

Alejandro: Like Alex he is shit in the kitchen. But, unlike Alex, he doesn't commit atrocities or accidentally summon demons when in the kitchen. Alejandro will eat anything and his high spice tolerance means almost nothing scares him. Has a very diverse palette and can pinpoint ingredients with ease.

Gaz: Man is spoiled by Price and Laswell's cooking. He doesn't eat frozen meals and usually makes himself simple meals. He isn't the best cook but he makes edible and alright tasting food. Gaz loves to watch others cook and also loves helping. If his presence is unwanted in the kitchen he will leave but if no one tells him he can't stay he will watch the person cooking's every move.

Laswell: Is full of culinary secrets and loves to cook. She loves making everyone fresh homemade meals. Sends care packages to those closest to her whenever she can. Laswell knows secrets that Soap has been trying to pry out of her for the last couple years. Her recipe book is hidden for a reason.

Rudy: Has taken culinary classes once upon a time plus learned from his grandmother before she passed. Loves cooking and cooks to relieve stress. Makes meals big enough to feed a village so he keeps his kitchen stocked. Loves spice and food made personally for him will melt your face off. Doesn't mind cooking for people as long as they directly ask him. Food thieves have learned to fear him.

Nik: Don't let him cook. Everyone who knows better makes sure he's not in the kitchen without supervision. He doesn't see what the problem is. He's only summoned a demon one time.

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #phillip graves #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #kate laswell #farah karim #alex keller #gary roach sanderson #cod nikolai #drabble

[fantasyinallforms]

Hello! Can I request "warm beverages" with Bagginshield for fotfictember?? Pretty please?

Of course, you can! In typical Fantasy fashion, I did accidentally make a 1600-word one-shot instead of a drabble but oh well. I hope you enjoy!

To Warm A Heart-{T} Bagginshield- 1600 words

“Thorin, why are you staring at this apple tree?” Bilbo asked cautiously. 

“Because you’ve been shivering for two days,” Thorin replied curtly. 

“I’m now more confused than when I initially asked the question.” Bilbo snorted. “Are you planning on picking them? It’s a good season for it. In another month, all the fruit will have fallen down.” Bilbo reached for an apple on one of the lowest branches but couldnt quite grab it, even with his adorable little jumps. Thorin grabbed the branch and bent it low so Bilbo could take what he liked. 

“I take it you like apples?” 

“I love apples! This time of the year makes me miss the fall celebrations around the party tree. Bell Gamgee’s apple tarts are the year's highlight for anyone lucky enough to grab one before they’re gone.” Bilbo sighed and cleaned the dirt off the apple before taking a big bite. Thorin had to look anywhere else but his face as the juice dripped down his chin, begging to be cleared away. “They’re delicious! Thorin, you’ve got to try!” When he turned around, Bilbo handed him the apple, encouraging him to take a bite. He stifled a groan and took the apple, trying not to think too carefully about the fact that Bilbo’s lips had been wrapped around it seconds ago. It was sweet and perfectly ripe, as he had been told. When he confirmed this, Bilbo beamed and grabbed as many apples as he could carry to bring to their companions. 

Thorin went back to staring at the tree. The winds had become harsher as their elevation gradually increased. For the past two nights, he had witnessed Bilbo shivering even after he had offered his warmer coat. He needed something to warm him up from the inside. There was a recipe that the dwarves had adopted after their exile when food was scarce, and warmth was hard to come by. All provisions had to be used in their entirety, and if there was a secondary use, then that was even better. They had learned that if they boiled apple cores, it released the last of the juice, and if mixed with alcohol, it was hydrating and warming.  

Immediately upon spotting the apple tree, he halted their march and made camp. He could make Bilbo something to keep him warm, and he wouldn't have to use apple scraps to do it. He beckoned Fili and Kili over with the instruction to get every ripe apple they could down before moving on to speak with Bombur. He found the dwarf taking stock of his supplies, which now included a new apple. 

“Bombur a moment of your time, please,” Thorin called. The large dwarf looked up cheerfully. 

“Of course, what can I do for you, Thorin.” 

“I need a pot and to know what spices you have.” He gruffed. 

Bomber's eyebrows shot into his forehead. “Are you planning on cooking tonight?

“Cooking no. But I am making something. Your spices?” Thorin waited for Bombur to overcome the initial shock before reading into his bag to pull out a large tin filled with small compartments. I have the basics: salt and pepper. Some dried garlic and parsley. I have a few orange and lemon peels left, and Oh, I have a few cinnamon sticks, clove, and at least one nutmeg in here, it looks like.” Bombur looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to ask to use one or many. 

“I need the nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon. The orange peel, too, if you can spare it.” Bombur handed them over without question, knowing full well what the king was up to. The boys returned with their tunics pulled up to make makeshift baskets, bantering about who could carry more. They had brought more than he needed, which was good. They could dry what they didn’t use that night and use it later. Thorin surveyed the area and smiled when he saw Bilbo leaning against a tree wrapped in Thorin’s coat, speaking to Ori. There was a turning point on this journey when the concerns of that hobbit had become his. He had rebelled against it at first because all those who had traveled with him were his family now, but not like Bilbo. Bilbo was his beating heart living on the outside of his body. Handsome and clever, and stubborn and painfully vulnerable. More than all the others in this camp spare his nephews, Bilbo was his priority.

 The night drew in, and as expected, the air grew cold. Bilbo had fallen asleep against the tree, and Thorin could hear his teeth chattering from where he sat. He gave his pot a sip and then turned to his friend.

“Dwalin, what’s in your flask?” Thorin barked. 

“Something I’m not sharing,” Dwalin replied. He pulled out the flask to take a sip, and Thorin snatched it from his hands. He gave it a sniff. 

“Whiskey. That will work.” He dumped the flask's contents into the pot and stirred it. 

“You mind telling me why you just dumped the last of my fucking whiskey into that experiment you’ve been working on,” Dwalin growled.

“It’s cider like they used to make at the camps after Erebor fell. It’s too cold, and we have few supplies to keep warm after the goblins.” Thorin stood up. With the alcohol added, the drink was done. 

“You know there are easier ways to warm someone up.” Dwalin cast his eyes at Bilbo. “You’re coats big enough for both of ya if you’re close enough.” 

“I would not be welcome,” he had barely finished the sentence before Dwalin snorted.

“I forgot you’re stupid. Look. The nights are only going to get colder as we reach Erebor. Too cold for anyone to sleep alone. So is it going to be you sleeping next to that little thing, or is he going to have to curl up with Bofur instead?” He was being bated, and he knew it, but Thorin’s eyes still found the miner to check his proximity. He growled at himself as much as Dwalin for taking the bait. 

“If he wanted to share a bedroll with me, he would ask. I will not impose myself on him and call it convenience.” Thorin looked around for two mugs and ladled the cider into them until they were full. He carried them over to the Hobbit and sat them down on a flat rock. He regretted having to wake him. Despite the chattering teeth, he looked peaceful. His hair had fallen in front of his face, and his nose twitched even in his sleep. He was slumped in an odd position he would definitely be unhappy with come morning. With a hand on the side of Bilbo’s head, he guided him into a sitting position. “Master Baggins.” He said his name more firmly than he meant to, and his eyes flew open, slightly startled. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Did you want your coat back before you turned in?” Bilbo stretched, and Thorin turned away so as not to ogle him. If he had it his way, he would never see that coat again unless it was wrapped around the hobbit's shoulders. 

“I came to bring you something for the cold.” Thorin placed the cup in Bilbo’s hands and watched with satisfaction as he curled his hands around its warmth.  

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s not too cold out.” Bilbo argued,

“Bilbo, the entire camp can hear your teeth chattering.” Blush spread across Bilbo’s cheeks as he sipped the cider. The moment it touched his lips, his eyes went wide over the rim of the cup. He drained half his mug before coming up for air. 

“This is amazing! Did you make this?” Bilbo took another big gulp and looked contented. 

“I did. I thought you could use something to help you sleep better.” He took a sip from his own cup and was pleased with the result on such short notice. When he looked up, Bilbo was staring at him, blushing all the way to the top of his pointed ears and blinking rapidly. “Did I add too much alcohol? I wanted there to be enough to keep warm. It was Dwalin’s, and knowing what he drinks, I might have overdone it.” Thorin took another sip to gauge its strength. If anything, it was a bit weak. Bilbo didn't seem to want to elaborate, so they sat in silence for a little while, just enjoying the sounds of the woods around them, now free of chattering. When Thorin saw Bilbo’s mug get empty, he leaned into reach for it, intending to get him a refill. To his great surprise, Bilbo took that moment to lean forward as well, intentionally surging up to meet his lips. Thorin’s senses went white with bliss, and all his mind knew for the next moment was the taste of Bilbo's breath. Warm, soft lips and that slightly upturned nose pressing into his cheek. He was dumped back into reality as Bilbo drew away in panic, covering his face.

“I-I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me. That was wrong. I thought maybe…. No.. no excuse, please forgive me.” he made to get up, and Thorin quickly leaned forward, trapping the hobbit against the tree. 

“Wait, please don't leave.” He hated that he saw a hint of fear in Bilbo’s eyes, but he couldn't let him up. Not until he knew what that was. 

“I’m really sorry, Thorin. I misunderstood.” Bilbo babbled. 

“Did you kiss me intentionally?” Thorin asked. Bilbo nodded sheepishly. That was all he needed. He gathered Bilbo into his arms and returned his kiss with all the passion he could muster. The richness of the cider had never tasted better or warmed him so deeply than on Bilbo’s tongue.   

And if he heard Dwalin shout, “It’s about fucking time.” He ignored it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have decided that at the end of the year, all the drabbles I've done for events will be going into a 2023 collection on AO3. Also, I don't love the title of this fic and might change it later.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thilbo #bilbo x thorin #fotfics #fotfictember #FIAF(me) fics

[clarasunflowers]

radfems against food waste! 🥬

here’s some good info compiled from kathryn kellogg on how to make use of food waste - remember to compost the rest! (click link for more from her including zero waste recipes!)

1. make your own apple cider vinegar

save all apple peels and cores in a mason jar. add 2 tbsp sugar, fill with water. let sit 3 weeks in the dark. strain water into new jar. let sit 3 more weeks in the dark. done!

2. how to eat broccoli stalks

trim off the bottom and shave the rough sides. slice long-ways into thin pieces. toss in with the “tops” and prepare how you like.

3. banana bread recipes using overripe bananas

4. revive wilted kale

cut off the stalks, then soak the leaves in ice water 30 mins. store them upright (like a flower bouquet!) in a jar with water in the fridge.

5. preserve lemon peels

boil 4-5 lemon rinds/peels for 30 mins. add rinds to jar, pour in ¼ cup olive oil, ¼ kosher salt. mix. store in the fridge!

6. get the most out of your squeezed fruit juice

simply microwave your lemons and limes 15-20 seconds and squeeze out a whole lot more!!

7. preserve wilted herbs

chop up wilted herbs and fill up and ice tray. add in water or oil or butter or lemon juice. freeze!

8. make stock from your veggie scraps

this is NOT for cruciferous vegetables! save veggie scraps in the freezer until the bowl is full. simmer 1 hour on the stove OR 6 hours in the crock pot. add herbs to your liking.

9. use carrot “tops” in place of parsley

honorable mentions

save and reuse other organic components!

1. maintain your flower petals

air dry or oven dry your flower petals (85°C/200°F for 20 mins). add in dehydrated orange peels and cranberries, rosemary, cinnamon sticks, and/or anything else you like. put in a covered bowl overnight. add to small fabric bag and let sit in your drawers/closet for that lovely potpourri scent!

2. upcycle your christmas trees

trim small parts of your pine, spruce, or balsam fir christmas tree branches. add to a jar with 1x1 mix of vinegar and water. shake shake shake! strain and use as a cleaner spray!

#eco friendly #zero waste #food waste #heart #op

[gothhabiba]

obviously you can’t cook don’t know what a blog is etc etc. but in a universe where you did would you know of any recipes your alternate self posted which used leftovers or scraps? or alternatively making really good stock? many thanks

hm. if I ever cooked I think I would say something like—take

the peels, ends, and greens (if you haven't used them for anything else) of carrots

the ends, leaves, and outer stringy bits (if you're one of those people who peel them) of celery

tomato skins

mushroom stems

peels and trimmings of onions

peels and ends of garlic

skins and trimmings of ginger

the whites of green onions

stems of fresh, tender herbs (parsley and cilantro)

stems of woody herbs (thyme, rosemary), in moderation

trimmings from leeks, turnips, and fennel, in moderation

And simmer in enough water to cover for about an hour, with herbs or whole spices if you'd like (I generally include bay leaves, black or white peppercorns, cumin seeds, and coriander seeds), then strain. You can keep scraps from preparing meals over the course of a few days or weeks and freeze them in a bag or other container until ready to make stock; make sure each bag has a good proportion of different vegetables. Frozen scraps will only take 15-20 minutes of simmering to make stock.

Make sure that you scrub any vegetables whose peels you will be using for stock thoroughly. Scraps can be used for stock if they are wilted, but not if they are rotten.

Various places online will give you different ideas of what to include in stock and what not to bother including (there's a pretty comprehensive list here); as you do this over time you will no doubt have your own opinions about inclusions and ratios. Do not include cruciferous vegetables (broccoli, cauliflower) as they will make the stock unpalatably bitter. You may chuse to divide scraps in terms of what meal you plan to make with the stock (e.g. leave ginger, lemongrass, galangal peels &c. for an east Asian meal rather than, like, an Italian one).

Other things that can be done with "scraps":

The whites of green onions can be simmered alongside kombu/dashima when making Japanese dashi or Korean yuksu. Also reconstitute dried shiitake mushrooms in this stock to get flavourful mushroom water in the stock + reconstituted mushrooms that you can slice, boil, fry, &c.

The whites of green onions can also be used to make shiraga negi, a Japanese garnish

Thai recipes often involve leaving the peels on garlic when chopping or pulverising it. I'm not sure how the skins on Thai garlic compare to other varieties so your mileage may vary.

Garlic and onion peels can be dried in a dehydrator or an oven on low (~200F) and then ground to add savor to bread, soups, rice &c. Basically use it like garlic powder

Cauliflower and broccoli stalks can be peeled, sliced and roasted (along with the leaves) at around 400F (200C) for 20 minutes or so until browned and crispy with olive oil, salt, and spices of your chusing, then dipped in ranch or garlic sauce (for a quick vegan ranch I mix vegan mayonnaise + grated garlic + a squeeze of lemon + pinch of salt).

Kale stems can be pickled, or sliced thin, sauteed, and added to stir-fries and soups.

The inner core of cabbages (which some recipes call for you to remove) can also be minced and added to soups.

Orange, lemon, and grapefruit peels can be used to make mixed peel; apple peels and cores can be used to make apple jelly. These recipes aren't really something-for-nothing, though, as they do use a lot of sugar.

Also orange peel tea. Sometimes when making mixed peel I drain the water after five minutes of simmering and drink it as tea, then replace the water and continue simmering as the recipe calls for.

Some Medditerranean cake recipes involve (perhaps soaking and then) blending an entire orange, peel and all--look up "whole orange cake."

When not making mixed peel, I (remove the pith from and then) dry orange and lemon peels to grind into zest and store it to use as needed. A friend of mine saves the pith, too, and dries and grinds it and uses it to replace some of the flour when baking.

South Indian & Latin American recipes sometimes feature the peels of bananas or plantains—look for banana peel curry/thoran.

Various recipes can be found for banana peel pulled pork and banana peel bacon; banana peel cake; banana peel tea.

Starch left from rinsing rice can be used to thicken soups and stews (this is common in Korean recipes).

The water left from cooking dried beans can be used in soups and stews, or in cooking future batches of beans.

Make sure that anything you're eating or boiling has been washed well.

I— I'm. uh. huh. that was weird, I don't know what came over me...

#Anonymous #questions

[randomfoggytiger]

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe"

(Fictober, Day 26)

*****

How was it that Mulder and Scully acknowledged to each other, without a hint of irony, that they were deeply entrenched city dwellers yet still pointedly left out house-hunting ads of ramshackle horrors sold only in the sticks? 

Mulder, a cook who didn’t cook, whipped up recipes seared into his eidetic memory from odd-hour reruns. Scully, an abnormal woman who wanted a normal life, nonchalantly brought home casefiles while whining about the long hours of their latest assignment. His shirts kept vanishing into her dressers, and her shampoos kept gravitating to his hair.

The cd player was jammed with discordant tunes, the toilet plunger was constantly clean-unclean, the dish rack was filled with washed plates and rinsed takeout containers, and the fridge was stocked with freshly rancid containers of milk. Forgotten alarm clocks blared unwanted week hours on weekend mornings and were banged off separately with impatient twists and thrusts from sluggish, groggy arms. It was always messy in either Mulder’s bedroom or Scully’s bathroom: Scully would be consumed by the carpet every time she tripped over his shoes and Mulder would be overwhelmed by the innumerable hair tools cluttered around her sink. Saturdays were his days, Sundays were hers, and Mondays through Fridays were scrapped over intellectually. 

Even though seven years was-- theoretically-- a long time to plan for inevitability, the pieces didn’t fit quite yet. But the things that might had become what was; and if that required a bit of ceasefire and reconciliation over holiday planning or channel surfing, then it seemed as natural a negotiation as the rules regarding plausibility and possibility. Partners, in all things.

It was worth it.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

#txf #fic #Fictober #Day 26 #2023 #“No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe” #mine #Mulder #Scully #negotiating their new relationship #xf fanfic #x-files #xfiles #the x files

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Part 3.3

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

4800 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

Get excited. A large portion of this is Slate's POV. And by the Gods please don't let me edit this a third time. I'm done. If I left any filler words or random parts bolded for later fixing, no I didn't.

Slate is gone when Adalyn wakes. She’s sensing a pattern and wonders how he manages to wake and leave before she does, despite her baker instincts to be up before sunrise. 

Not in any rush, Adalyn fortifies herself with a cup of tea out on the balcony, snacking on some old biscuits. She cooks jam on toast over the fire, frowning at the mess cluttering the hearth. She takes a moment to straighten the equipment and jars – she's keen to get cooking, but with Slate’s explicit permission to organise his belongings, part of her is tempted to spend the morning rearranging.  

Still, they’d purchased a week’s worth of groceries yesterday, and she plans to experiment. After she’s fed and dressed, she heads down to the kitchen, lighting the room once she arrives. They’d visited Northpoint, the main trade hub of the valley, and Adalyn had managed to procure some sugar. Slate had smiled at her excitement at seeing the ware, and purchased the merchant’s whole stock.  

She spends half the morning baking, experimenting with recipes that exist only as scraps in her family journal, or as fragments in her memory. The shortcrust biscuits are a little sweet and the pastries don’t keep the shape she wants, but the sweet rolls turn out beautifully, and she makes note of the recipe she’d used. 

When the dining area begins to lighten, Adalyn starts to prepare lunch. She packs a basket, and is off towards the main-way, excited to showcase her food for the day. 

Slate is working on the same passage as last time, and she waits expectantly by the stream bank as he washes off and joins her on the blanket she’d laid out.  

“Potato and leek pottage. Bread of the day. Wine,” she gestures to each in turn. 

He smiles. “You’re an absolute blessing, Adalyn.” 

She blushes and stares at her food. “There’s like three breads of the day, but this one turned out best.” 

Slate lets out an appreciative groan when tears into the loaf and raises it to his nose. “I believe you.” 

They eat in silence for a few minutes, before Adalyn tries to start a conversation.   

“What are you working on today?” 

 Slate grins at the inquiry. “I’ve pretty much dug to the right spot. Now it’s time to start hollowing out a living space.” 

“What do you do with all the stone?” 

He shrugs. “I set it aside. Most of it is good for sculpting. I can use it for furnishing, or steps, or block facades. Though some of it is as good as slag by the time I’m through.” 

Adalyn nods contemplatively. Realises that they’re sitting in a makeshift limestone quarry. She’s musing about the other uses of the stone, wondering if there’s any further use, or if Slate would sell the material when he interrupts. 

“Have you given any thought to what you’ll call your wing?” 

She starts from her thoughts. Raises a brow. “Can’t I just call it my wing? My chambers. My tower?” 

“You can. But where’s the fun? It’ll be big enough to be its own fort, at least.” 

A pang of unease goes through Adalyn. If she were self-reliant in her quarters, wouldn’t that mean less reason to visit Slate and the Tower? 

She shrugs, pushing the feeling down. “From the valley they look like they’re in a row. Sometimes we number them. The Tower is fifth...” 

Slate hits his knee with a fist, excited. “I like the way you think. That’d make your mountain the fourth?” 

“Yes.” 

“We could call it Fourth Spire? Fothspire? Fourth Peak?” 

Adalyn busies herself with her food. Watching the enthusiasm in Slate’s demeanour stings, just a little. “Fourth Spire is fitting.” 

There’s a silence while they eat. Slate shoots Adalyn some careful stares, sensing something amiss. “What are your plans for the day?” 

Adalyn glances to the sky. The sun is high overhead, stretching into the afternoon. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll clean your desk.” She means it as a joke, but considers with some seriousness. 

Slate purses his lips. “If it makes you happy, dearest.” 

She takes pity on him and huffs a laugh. Some of her tension seeps away. “Did you have a system you’d like me to adhere to?” 

He pouts down at his food. “Not presently.” 

“And the books you’ve left out. They’re quite numerous...” 

He fidgets. “I might be referencing some of them.” 

“Even the ones left on the floor?” 

“Well, maybe not those.” 

Adalyn teases him with a smile. “I also meant to inquire about your book-marking system.” 

He meets her eyes, despairing. “... What book-marking system?” 

“The one where you leave books open or close them on a variety of... strange things. Feathers. Receipts. Fabrics. Unidentified plant matter.” 

He shifts. “Well, you know dog earring is terrible for parchment.” 

  “So is staining the pages with potion ingredients, dearest.” She pushes back with the new endearment. 

He covers his silence by scraping the bottom of his bowl. 

Adalyn relents. “If they’re not an elaborate bookmarking system I’ll just remove them then? At least from the books not currently in use?” 

He relaxes a bit. “I should be grateful for your care, Adalyn. I admit the treatment of my hoard is not always delicate.” 

She permits another soft smile. “Would that I knew how to care for your belongings. I’ve never cleaned armour or weapons, and I fear to touch half of your possessions for worry of mistreating them.” 

He stretches. Gives her a sheepish look. “I’ll show you then. If you’ll remain patient. I’m not fond of cleaning but you’ve my permission to wrest the best methods out of me.” 

She raises her brows. Considers the chance to spend more time with her husband, under the guise of learning and cleaning. 

Weary at her interest, Slate stands and dances back. “Later, though. You’ll not have me that easily.” 

She scowls at him. “Tease.” 

--- 

By sunset Adalyn has cleared the walkways significantly. She doesn’t know how so many tomes found their way onto the floor when they’d tidied less than a week prior. Slate exudes a special kind of chaos. Despite his list and his priorities, it seems the wyvern can’t help but start other projects on a whim, falling victim to tangents and rabbit holes much too easily. 

She doesn’t even know what half his side projects pertain to. Just that their shopping trip in the valley had resulted in them visiting all three major settlements and stopping to speak with every experienced tradesperson they crossed. 

He’d been so enthused by the time they got home – evening, despite their morning start – that he’d raced off to work on something that night and had completely missed dinner. 

He’d eaten at least – the food was gone when she woke this morning. Along with her husband. And with Slate dismissing her at lunch – albeit playfully – and now running late for dinner again, Adalyn feels the itch of rejection chafing at her once more. 

She knows it was foolish to assume that it’d be a perfect transition. That things between them would stay simple and easy. They've been married... five days now. Complications are to be expected.  

But she still wonders if Slate even notices her disconnect. If he feels as estranged as she does. She doesn’t know if he’s rushing the construction of her quarters because he wants her gone, or if he’s being dutiful and kind, or if he’s just hyper-fixating on his next big project. She doesn’t know, because he hasn’t given her any indication. Hasn’t spoken to her about anything serious. Has barely spent any alone time with her. 

She finishes her dinner and covers Slates before standing to pace, restless. She scours the room for something else to do before flopping into the desk chair and scowling at Slate’s desk. Blueprints and plans are scattered around.  

Part of her feels small and dumb. Because each night after dinner, if he remembers to attend, Slate spends hours poring over these papers, drafting out his plans and thumbing through his reference books. Small and dumb because of the jealousy she feels towards some parchment. She wants to resent the paperwork. Envies the attention Slate gives it.  

But she relaxes incrementally and lets out a sigh. She doesn’t hate his work. Listening to him talk about engineering and different types of construction, watching him get so animated; she feels guilty for being so angry over something that obviously brings him so much joy.  

And it’s not as if Slate had promised her romance.  

He’d married out of self-interest. To discourage his family. An act of pettiness, or rebellion, she’d thought when he’d first revealed the plan.  

It only hurts because she likes him. 

Her fingers brush the scale that she keeps in her pocket. She grits her teeth at the acknowledgement. Then pushes the thought away. Her feelings for the wyvern aren’t something she wants to contemplate yet, even as she skirts around the truth of them. 

Adalyn lets out a sigh and chides herself. There’s no point dwelling on it. Especially if she refuses to act. And tonight, she doesn’t feel like doing either. 

--- 

The following morning, Slate stirs from his spot on the chaise as the room, barely perceptibly, begins to lighten. He groans, stretches, and nearly falls onto the floor. His cheeks darken, despite the lack of audience to his mishap.  

Slipping back into autonomy, Slate makes his way to the partitioned wash area and fills the basin with fresh water. He splashes his face and dresses for the day. The sun’s not up yet, but rays of red light – probably imperceptible to the human eye – are filtering into the room. Enough to let Slate know it’s time for him to start the day. 

He makes himself coffee. Adalyn had tried the bitter drink once and nearly spat it out, to his great amusement. He supposes that it’s an acquired taste, and as remote as they are, it’s not like any of the locals would have the chance to get used to it. 

He scarfs down a handful of Adalyn’s biscuits, puts another log on the fire, and lingers by the bed. He adjusts the blankets on his wife before leaving in a rush, not allowing himself to stare for too long. 

It’s a bad habit. 

He shouldn’t have started it. Shouldn’t keep indulging it. If she knew how he fussed, how often he touches her without permission... He hates to think of what she’d do if she found out he’d been pushing the boundaries like that. Especially with how touch sensitive humans supposedly are. 

Slate flies to the main entrance before shifting into his demi form and going on foot to Fourth Spire. The ground floor is gradually opening up, and he’s paying close attention to the central column. 

It’s thick, acting as both a support within the tower, and a centralised route up and down the floors once he hollows it out into a large spiral staircase. He hopes Adalyn likes it. Still, part of his mind ticks away at the design, wondering if there’s anything he can add, anything he can do to make carrying things up and down the Spire any easier for his human wife.  

Ready to begin, he lets shadows gather at his fingertips. Feels the weight of keratin form into large claws. In his demi form his muscles are already prepared for the weight the transformation brings. More scales appear across his forearms, the dense patches protecting him from any loose debris that might go airborne. 

Then he begins carving. 

Taking breaks only to sip at a skin of water, he loses himself in the sounds of the earth and the rhythm of his work, pausing occasionally to check that the angles and measurements aren’t out of order. It has to be perfect. Sure, it’s only the first shaping of the stairs. He’d go over it with his chisels once the basic shape had been found. But he moves carefully, not willing to make any mistakes with Adalyn’s quarters.  

She’d been... withdrawn last night. Pale and wan once she’d fallen asleep. There’d been a strange undercurrent in the air when he’d landed on the balcony and found her reading in the back corner.  

Seeing his covered dinner plate had shamed him. Once more he’d been late for dinner. Once more he’d promised himself he’d do better. He’d check the sky. He’d stop work early. But deep beneath the surface it’s hard to keep track of the time. Even if his eyes can cut through the dark with perfect clarity, he has no way of knowing what time it is. Especially as he gets lost in his work. (Especially as he can’t find anyone to fix that blasted timepiece). 

There’s the crunch of footsteps and he pauses in his work. Turns to regard Adalyn, waiting by the entrance with a torch. 

Controlling his delight, Slate wipes his hands on his pants and banishes his claws, trying to appear somewhat collected. Somewhat normal. Human. Palatable, he thinks. 

He gives her a polite smile. “What brings you today?” 

Her brief lunch visits are perhaps the only time she seems open. Relaxed. He looks forward to their little appointments, even if half the time he doesn’t know what to say or how to act.  

She crinkles her nose as she looks around the space. For a moment his heart skips a beat. Is something wrong with it? 

“I don’t know how you breathe through all this dust. If a human worked in these conditions they’d probably get black lung.” 

Relief floods him at the comment. Then embarrassment. Ancestors, he cares too much about her opinion.  

“Black lung is caused by scarring to the lung tissue. Most dracanoids are resistant to minor scarring and damages.” 

“Resistant,” Adalyn corrects, “but not immune.” 

Her concern is sweet enough, endearing enough, that his smile softens. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Her ears turn pink, and she turns away. “Did you want some lunch?” 

He follows her out into the mainway, sheds his footwear, and steps into the stream. The water is icy and he grits his teeth before dunking himself and rubbing the grey dust away.  

Curiously, Adalyn doesn’t watch, instead unpacking their blanket and lunch with careful movements, barely sparing him a glance. It’s his second clue that something is up, as most afternoons she can’t keep her eyes off of him, much to his pleasure.  

Dripping, but clean, Slate joins her at the makeshift picnic, sitting cross legged across from her. He eats the food with gusto, hoping the sounds and motions can convey what he struggles to do so with words. When Adalyn produces a flask of coffee, still hot, he almost swoons. 

“A female after my own heart,” he mutters, sipping at the brew. He misses the way she stills at his words. “So what are your plans for the day?” 

She shrugs before drinking from her own flask of tea. “I was just going to explore. Maybe experiment in the kitchen later. Do something different for dinner.” 

Something in his chest warms. “I’ll look forward to trying it.” 

She huffs. “Don’t be so enthused. I could end up poisoning us if I go too wild.” 

“I’m not worried.” 

Adalyn is silent for a moment, a strange expression flitting across her face. When she speaks next, her words still roll with the same cadence and volume, but Slate can’t help but feel that there’s something missing in her tone; some of the warmth behind her eyes has waned. 

“Is there anything I can eat that you can’t?” 

Grateful for the change in topic, Slate takes a moment to consider. “Not really. I think some red dragons can’t eat ice. But otherwise, we’re pretty good at digesting things, even if they’re not particularly nutritious.” 

“What do you like to eat?” 

Slate bites back a smile. He enjoys Adalyn’s curiosity. Her willingness to learn, and to hear him talk about the things she likes. She never makes it seem like he’s being boring. Even if there’s the occasional moment when he wonders if her mind is elsewhere, or she’s veiling some display of emotion. 

“I like all kinds of foods. One of the benefits of living so long and so richly is that I can travel around and try different things. I adore coffee. Though that might be because it’s mildly addictive. I like fish when it’s simple and game when it’s extravagant. I’m not very experienced at cooking many of these things, but I like different spice blends from Shad and the different grains they cook with. I like fruit and berry pastries. Cocoa from the Isles. I prefer my eggs cooked through, and I like the texture of toast when it’s a bit too crispy. But mostly I like variety. Being surprised by my food, or changing things up occasionally.” 

He reigns it in when Adalyn stares. There’s an indecipherable look on her face once more, and he pauses, suddenly self-conscious.  

“I’m not boring you, am I?” 

Her look softens. “I asked.”  

Slate drops his eyes. Suddenly overcome with the urge to reach out and touch her, to cup her face, to lean in and taste her breath; he schools his features into neutrality before pulling out another practiced smile. She’s just being friendly. Polite. 

“Lunch was wonderful. Thank you, Adalyn.”  

She smiles back, soft, but with that shadow of emotion from earlier, the one he can’t quite place.  

It’s enough that he finally frowns. Reaches out and touches her hand. “Is something wrong?” 

She hesitates, and he waits, giving her the time she needs to find her words. She seems to be thinking hard, conflicted. Eventually she lifts her eyes to his. Bites on her lip.  

“It’s silly.” 

“I won’t laugh.” 

She looks away again. “Will you... show me how to take apart and clean your armour tomorrow?” 

He tries not to frown. He has to wonder if she’d changed her mind about what she was going to say. Why look so torn over such a simple request? 

“Of course. Is that all?” 

She struggles to meet his gaze again. Shrugs. “Yes. I just... I like spending time with you.” 

Something in his chest warms. His face too.  

“I like spending time with you too, dearest.” 

She rolls her eyes at the endearment, but the tension is barely diffused. She still looks uncomfortable. 

He’s not sure what to say to make it better. Instead waits, hoping that she’ll break the silence. 

After a while, she does. “I’m just- worried.” 

He tilts his head.  

She shrugs again, trying to downplay the moment. “When you finish the Spire and I move out, what if I don’t get to spend any more time with you?” 

He blinks. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. At least, not as something to worry about. He’d been toiling away in the keep, eager to gift Adalyn with her own space and not considering how she might feel about it. Does she want her own quarters? Will she like living by herself? He hadn’t even thought to ask. 

Looking at her now, vulnerable, hardly able to meet his eye, the previous warmth in his chest dissipates, and fractures. He’d messed up.  

He flounders for the right words to fix his mistake. To reassure Adalyn, and make that doleful expression go away. 

“I- uh. Of course you’ll spend time with me. You have a knack for tracking me down. And I really enjoy our lunches together.” 

Her expression barely changes. She just nods, and looks away, before making to stand. 

Slate winces and grabs her hand. Stands with her. Blurts the first thought to pop into his head. “I could build a bridge? One from the tower to your Spire? That way you can visit me whenever, and won’t even have to walk the whole keep.” 

Her face is blank for a moment. Then he watches as she goes through the effort tilting up the edges of her lips. Summons a spark to her eyes. “Sounds difficult.”  

He agrees. “A secret tunnel would probably be easier.”  

The smile twitches. “Probably more romantic too.” 

He blinks again. Latches onto that train of thought with clawed hands. “Do you like romance?” 

She looks away. “I don’t know. I haven’t really tried it.” 

There’s a precipice in front of him. A vulnerability he’d yet to show Adalyn. Yet to show anyone really. And while he hesitates to step over it, looking at the cracks in his wife’s composure, and their linked hands, his decision to speak is easily made. 

“Neither have I.” 

She turns to regard him, face still mostly blank. “You... haven’t?” 

“Nope.” 

He watches her weigh her words. Shift her weight. Consider the implications.  

“I see.” 

Adalyn no longer looks quite so melancholy, and it’s a balm on his nerves. But now that the desperate grab for reassurances and comforts is done, he shifts uncomfortably. The silence grates on him, and he wonders what next he should say. 

Adalyn saves him the trouble when she floors him with her next question. 

“Would you like to? 

Slate blinks. Looks sharply at the woman only to find her staring at her feet again, arms wrapped around herself. 

“Uh,” his heart is beating too hard, “I hadn’t considered it.” There’s another tense silence. “Would you?” 

Despite asking the first question, Adalyn still has the gall to look surprised. She meets his stare, eyes wide for a moment, before looking away. She packs the picnic blanket. Puts their dishes away, slowly, while she deliberates on her answer.  

Finally when she stands, she holds her basket in hand, almost as if she’s ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She makes herself meet Slate’s eyes. Composes her expression into one of neutrality again. 

“Yes. I think I would.” 

His mind blanks.  

He doesn’t have it in him to consider the implication of her words while she still stands before him. To consider the surge of... something... in his chest. To get a grip on his emotions and form a coherent response.  

But she stands there, waiting for him to reply.  

In his panic, he settles on an abrupt change in topic. “Tomorrow then, I’ll show you the armour.” He smiles. Starts backing away, before giving a little wave and turning. His steps back towards the Spire aren’t measured. He practically flees the scene, head reeling.  

When he’s out of sight he pauses to lean against the wall and lets himself just marinate in the mix of adrenaline and surprise.  

He can hear her still, lingering in the main-way. After a moment he listens to her footsteps fade into the distance, and he lets himself breathe again. 

Adalyn wants romance.  

Even thinking the words surprises him. Makes him haunted and hopeful. She might be open to advances. She might want somebody else. She might have been speaking on an entirely hypothetical level. And because he ran like a coward he’ll never know, unless he can muster up the nerve to pry further. 

Slate abandons the central column and starts working on one of the outer walls. They still need to be taken out, and there’s not many mistakes he can make while doing that. He resummons his claws, still in a daze, and resumes his work, though not grounded in the slightest. 

With enough monotony of motion he’s able to push the emotions down and focus on his work. Thought’s still swirl but he’s able to get lost in it, until he is sore and stiff and thirsty. He goes to take a drink and finds his skin empty. He lets out a long breath as the echoes of his labour fade away. It has probably been a while, and he resolves to take a break. To head to the main-way and refill his skin.  

When he makes it to the cavern, he catches sight of the sky and curses. The moon is high, and he bemoans how late it must be. Time just keeps getting away from him.  

He shifts and takes flight, making a direct beeline to the Tower. He lands on the balcony, trading his wings for his human form. 

He’d missed dinner again. Not only that, but Adalyn is already in bed, and her breath indicates that she’s sleeping deeply.  

Damn it.  

Grinding his teeth at his latest mistake, he fills the bathtub and sheds his clothes. When he’s no longer the colour of chalk or tasting grit in his mouth he dries and dresses, and empties the tub. 

Spying dinner on the table, he’s hit with a slew of emotions. Gratitude and adoration. Guilt and sadness. He needs to fix his timepiece. Or pull his head out of his ass and start making time for his wife. If he doesn’t, the next few decades are going to be incredibly stilted, and it would probably be his fault. 

Walking past his desk, he pauses when he sees Adalyn’s binder sitting open, a handful of papers poking out. He’s sure she didn’t have nearly as many when she first moved in and unpacked. Curious, he examines one. It almost looks like a blueprint. It’s a birds-eye-view of a room. Or perhaps not a room, judging by the lack of walls or doors. Those are... garden beds. Pots. Plant names. Has Adalyn been planning a garden? 

Unable to dampen his curiosity, he slides the other sheets into view. There’re recipes, to do lists, shopping lists, more blueprints. He skims the to do list, written in Adalyn’s tidy print: garden supplies, write Rin, meet with G&G, see jeweller. On the other side is another list, self explanatory: 20x small pots, 10x large pots, 5x crates soil, old garden cuttings, 1x load fertiliser, spade, watering can, water barrel... The list trails off, instead devolving into loose sketches of a rudimentary irrigation system. Slate is impressed.  

He puzzles over the next page. Adalyn had drafted a blueprint – two blueprints, of similar design. It’s not up to industry standard, but it’s legible. Slate doesn’t know what to make of the design. Apparently half of the building is to be hewn from the mountain, and a protruding half to be built from wood? He decides to ask about it later. 

He sits down for dinner, considering her plans and altering his own. Glass. Wardrobe. Rail. Timepiece. Pots. Soil. Fertilizer. His list is growing. The trip he’s been putting off is starting to look more and more needed, and Slate sighs, wondering if he should just get it over with. It could certainly be a pleasant surprise for Adalyn. 

When he finishes cleaning up for the night he hesitates at the foot of the bed. He should just go and lay down on the chaise. Sleep off the fatigue that is starting to cloud his mind.  

Instead, he finds himself laying down beside Adalyn and watching her for a moment. He almost immediately wishes he hadn’t as he sinks into the mattress and muffles a sigh. It’d be the only perk, giving Adalyn her own quarters. He’d missed sleeping in the bed.  

It seems kind of dumb to him. That humans reserve sex for the bedroom. It makes him self-conscious whenever he enters the space. Is he bothering Adalyn by being here? Is he pushing her boundaries too much? It’s not like she’d say much if he did. Fuck, she’d even offered to share the bed with him, that first night. He’d declined, if only to make sure she wasn’t rushing into things. And she hadn’t asked him back since.  

Adalyn rolls. Her back slots against Slate’s chest. Her head rests on his arm. Slate freezes. Scarcely breathing, he waits for her to wake. To jerk away. To do something. Anything.  

She doesn’t wake. As the minutes tick by, Slate relaxes fractionally. Lulled by her warmth and lured by her gentle breathing into lowering his guard, Slate lets his eyes close. Inhales deeply. 

Just a few more minutes. Then he’d leave. He’d go and sleep on the chaise. Would stop smelling her hair like a depraved pervert. Would pull away from her touch. 

Just a few more minutes. 

--- 

“Dearest Adalyn 

I need to pick up some supplies from Cheywyn. Unfortunately, I won’t return until tomorrow morning, if things go according to schedule. I’m saddened that I’ll be missing our midday meal, but look forward to returning to you. 

Fondest regards 

Slate” 

She’d woken from a pleasant dream this morning. Warmth against her back, and a hand entwined in her hair. Slate’s absence was not unusual. She’d stoked the fire, started breakfast, and had sat at the table, relaxed and looking forward to the day. Then she’d seen the note. 

Adalyn sips her tea on the balcony, eyes trained on the horizon. The letter is clenched in her fist.

Next

#the wyvern's bride #vaya writes #monster romance #wyverns #dragons #tetaro #exophilia #my writing #oh my god this was so long because i wanted to put his pov in this chapter #fuckkkkkkk #fun fact the pov is largely unchanged from the draft #but i had to rework much of the prior conversations and interactions #please validate me #this writing is top notch and the best thing you'll ever read and im so incredible i already know yuo'll love it but also tell me #so i can hear it #pls

[bomberqueen17]

instant pot rice pilaf sorta?

So this is one of my comfort-food recipes which I'm not sure I've related here before, but by request I'm writing it down properly with quantities and such.

This is, for me, an Instant Pot recipe, but you can adapt it for stovetop pretty easily. If you do it on the stovetop you can make it more risotto-like by stirring it a lot and such. Consult a decent risotto recipe and adapt.

You can use any kind of root vegetable, pretty much any kind of meat you like, and either white or brown rice for this. Use whatever stock you have. The leafy greens are optional.

Dice an onion. Melt fat (oil, butter, lard, bacon grease, like 2-3 Tbsp) in your Instant Pot on the "saute" setting (I do mine on Normal, but there's a lot of variation in individual pots how intense that is. You want it to lightly sizzle but not burn) and dump your onion in until it's as done as you like. (I want it to be clear, maybe just browning a little at the edges here and there, but you can go browner if you want.) 1a) IF YOU WANT TO USE MEAT you can do that. If I'm using lamb shanks, I will brown them first before adding the onion. If I'm using ground meat I will cook it after I've started softening the onion. You could throw in cooked leftover meat too, or if it's in your stock that's fine. Really this dish does fine without, but it's also a great way to stretch a small amount of meat to be a whole meal for several people. A lamb shank, a pork chop, a ham hock, some short ribs, a chicken leg-- some skimpy cut with a bone is ideal for this, but you can also use bulk sausage or ground meat or chicken breast or whatever you want, just adjust cooking times.

Dice carrots or beets while this is happening (or both). I'm a bit inspired by Central Asian plov, which is traditionally made with finely-julienned yellow carrots and like a whole lot of them, but I love beets in this. Set your diced root vegetables aside for right now. I'm going to say you want like, a cup or so of diced vegetable.

Put in your rice, stirring it around until it's all coated in the melted fat. I'm going to say to use 2c of rice. Let it cook for a couple of minutes.

Optional: throw in about 1/4 cup of white wine to kind of deglaze the pan, scrub up your rice in case it stuck at all (you need it not to stick or your pot will give a "burn" notice and not finish). Do this quickly, don't let it sit too long.

Throw in your root vegetables.

Add stock. I use Trash Stock, which I make in the pressure cooker out of all my leftover bones and vegetable scraps. You could use salted water, you could use canned broth, you could use whatever you like to cook rice in or whatever you make soup with. Follow the guidelines from your Instant Pot-- both white and brown rice are recommended as 1:1-- but I would be generous with the liquid, this always turns out a little dry for me because I think the root vegetables absorb water. I made this just now with 2c brown rice and a scant 3c stock and it was not watery at all. If you're using stock that is not adequately salted you'll want to throw some additional salt in. I also season with thyme, as that's the primary herb in plov, but you can really put in whatever herbs you like with whatever root vegetable you picked. I once made an incredibly intensely rosemaryed risotto that was actually pretty incredible. Use what you have.

Cook according to your Instant Pot's guidelines for the type of rice you're using, but on the longer side. I used brown rice, which IP said was "20-22 minutes" so I did it at 22 minutes on high pressure. White rice is only like, I forget, 3-5 minutes? Do it for the longer end, because you want those beets/carrots done through. (If you're using meat, then cook it however long the meat needs, if it's longer than what the rice needs. If I'm doing lamb shanks or something bone-in, then I use water instead of broth because the bones will make it be broth, I am more generous with the water, and I let it cook 25 minutes at least regardless of the rice. Shanks are fantastic because they're so tough otherwise, but have so much collagen they give a really velvety finish.)

When the pressure cook cycle is over, release pressure on the pot, and then dice up some leafy green-- spinach is great, mustard greens are great, I used some of the greens from my beets because I had them-- and I only used a scant cup, maybe even less, but if you have good spinach this is a great way to cram a ton of it into something-- and throw your leafy green in, stir it well, and then stick the lid back on. (if you've got shanks or some other bone-on meat, you'll need to take those out, pull all the meat off, throw it back in, discard your bones or better still put them in your freezer bag for later trash stock-- stir the meat back in along with your leafy greens, and put it on keep warm if it's had too long to cool off.)

Cut a few chunks of a lovely soft cheese, I recommend chevre. Once the leafy greens have wilted (really stirring them in should be plenty, or a minute or two with the lid on and the residual heat from the Pot), then dish your plov into bowls and top with crumbles of cheese. (For a more risotto-like variant, stir in a pat of butter at the end and top with Parmesan or similar. It's gonna depend on your flavor profile.)

sorry if this is real wordy, I really have tried to make it be Concrete Amounts but it's more a technique than a recipe, I always cook in story-frameworks like this because I just can't follow directions anymore, LOL.

#cooking #recipe post #comfort foods

[leggeteconme]

Reasons you need this herby pea soup and pesto-ham grilled cheese in your life:

1. It’s delicious. The combination of flavors is unreal.

2. It’s cheap. No fancy produce or expensive ingredients required. Everything can be bought for very little cost.

3. It’s quick and easy. Unlike most soups I make, there’s no roasting or anything that takes a lot of time. Sauté and blend. That’s about it.

4. It’s packed with protein. I use bone broth to bulk out the protein from the peas, and the ham and cheese give you even more. And it’s balanced with fats, carbs, and produce, giving you the perfect hearty and well-balanced meal for the end of a long day.

Now the recipe ^^

Pea soup ingredients:

• Olive oil

• Chicken bone broth

• As much butter as you want

• Herbs of your choice (fresh or dried, pretty much everything goes with peas so pick what you like)

• Salt and black pepper

• Onion of your choice (I always go for yellow onion and shallot)

• Lots of garlic (I use a whole bulb because I have problems)

• A lot of peas (~6 cups)

Step 1: Chop your garlic and onion (save the scraps for vegetable stock!), and sauté in a generous drizzle of olive oil over medium high heat.

Step 2: Season garlic and onion with salt, pepper, and herbs to taste. Add peas and butter, and cook until heated through. Cover with broth and blend until smooth.

Grilled cheese ingredients:

• Good white bread (doesn’t have to be fancy, this loaf was $1.99, but fresh baked goes such a long way)

• More butter

• Mayonnaise

• Pesto (homemade is best, but my basil plants haven’t recovered enough from the last batch for me to make more, so store-bought is just fine!)

• Two types of shredded cheese: one for flavor and one for meltiness (I’m a diehard swiss and mozzarella girl)

• Smoked ham slices

Spread a little mayo and a generous bit of pesto on one side of each of two slices of bread. Add one type of cheese to each slice and a few slices of ham to one side. Cook in melted butter over medium heat until the cheese melts, flip the sandwich together, and cook until golden on both sides.

Cut that sandwich in half, ladle up the soup, and dive in :)

#food #healthy food #cooking #recipe #soup and sandwich #pea soup #grilled cheese