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#stoofvlees
askwhatsforlunch · 1 year
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Stoofvlees (Dutch Beef and Beer Stew)
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On a grey and dull Sunday, especially one where one couldn’t linger in bed and had to rise early, a hearty pot of Dutch comfort is a most welcome lunch! This slowly simmered Stoofvlees has tender and juciy beef chunks, slowly braised in beer, the gravy thickened with gingerbread. It’s absolutely indulgent and delectable. Even more so when served, as per tradition, with hot chips! Happy Sunday!
Ingredients (serves 4):
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 onions
2 fluffy sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
2 large whole cloves
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 kilo/pounds of stewing beef (like a nice chuck square-cut)
1 garlic clove, minced
1 teaspoon coarse sea salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
500 millilitres/2 cups amber ale (like La Trappe Bockbier)
500 millilitres/2 cups Beef Broth, warmed
60 grams soft gingerbread
Dijon Mustard
1/4 cup demerara sugar
In a large Dutch oven, melt butter with olive oil over medium-high heat.
Peel and thinly slice onions.
When the butter is just foaming, add onions, thyme sprigs, bay leaves and cloves to the Dutch oven. Fry, stirring often until onions start browning, about 6 minutes.
Transfer onions and herbs to a plate, and set aside.
Return Dutch oven on the stove, and add olive oil.
Cut beef into large chunks, and add to the Dutch oven. Brown, about 2 minutes on each side. Once the beef is well-browned, returned reserved onions and herbs to the Dutch oven, along with minced garlic. Cook, a couple of minutes. Season with coarse sea salt and black pepper. Cook, 1 minute more.
Stir in Bockbier, and warm Beef Broth, scraping the bottom of the pot with your wooden spoon, to loosen brown bits. Bring to the boil.
Meanwhile, cut gingerbread into slices, and spread Dijon Mustard generously on top. Place them, Mustard-side down onto the stew. Cover with the lid, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer gently, 1 hour.
Then, remove the lid, and stir in demerara sugar. Simmer, uncovered, 15 minutes more.
Serve Stoofvlees hot, with a side of Hot Chips, a Simple Potato Mash, or Cheddar Parsnip Mash, and a good Dutch or Belgian beer.
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bbqbastard · 4 months
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Heerlijk stoofvlees op de BBQ
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marikee · 6 months
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Sinterklaas stoofvlees met kruidnoten
Wist je al dat je heel lekker kunt koken met kruidnoten? Maak bijvoorbeeld deze kruidnoten stoofvlees voor een echte Sinterklaas sfeer bij het avondeten. Continue reading Untitled
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anothersmalllife · 10 months
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Stoofvlees-one of my favorite dishes
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nummymuffin · 1 year
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Delicious dinner last night at @swinggouda, with a perfectly rare/medium rare #swingsteak. Recommended! #diamanthaas #stoofvlees #goudsekaassoep #bananacake #chocolatesorbet #swinggouda (at Swing Gouda) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnzKgjgsFdw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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kleefkruid · 1 year
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My bowels have been at war with me for 3 days normal fiber isn't working I think I might need Sacred Oats blessed with holy water to combat the demons inside of me
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healution · 3 months
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Ik voel mij zieker worden met de minuut en ik weiger
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astermath · 10 months
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what’s your favorite food/drink? mines pasta and taro boba
oooh that sounds so good! I love sushi and mexican food, specifically tacos,, my favourite dish is stoofvlees tho, it’s the national dish of my country
as for drinks, I’m such a soda addict, like I’ll be happy with an ice cold coke any day. also lime iced tea <3
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polldermodel · 2 months
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Patat/friet met
Mayonaisse
Curry
Curry plus mayo
Ketchup
Yoppiesaus
Satesaus
Patatje oorlog
Dunk er veel meer voedsel bovenop op, zoals patatje doner, patatje stoofvlees, etc
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harley-sunday · 1 year
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August Rush [10]
Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.
Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)
Warnings: Language. Slightly NSFW. 
Word count: 6.9k.
AN: This is it, babes. The final part of this wild ride we all went on almost a year ago. I’m gonna miss writing for these two but I think the story I wanted to tell got told and it’s time for them to have their happy ending. I couldn’t have done this without my Devious Friend™, my editor-in-chief, and my greatest support. eL, this one’s for you, babe ♥ And for all of you - I meant what I said last time, please feel free to come yell at me in the comments. I would love to hear what you think!
Masterlist
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Despite the weather forecast predicting nothing but rain this race weekend, it’s actually quite nice when you make it to Spa on Wednesday and so you’re enjoying a walk through the paddock in your Alpha Tauri-issued team polo with your sunglasses on and an iced coffee in your hand. Something about the calm before the storm, you think idly. 
Spa is- It’s hectic. It’s the first race after the summer break and so there’s always a lot to catch up on, the last remnants of silly season still echoing through the paddock and some of the announced driver changes for next year raising a few eyebrows here and there. Like you expected, the news that your team has chosen to focus on the development of next year’s car has been met with very few questions and so, except for a press conference that isn't scheduled until tomorrow morning, there isn’t much for you to do except catch up with the other press officers and a few of your driver friends.
First stop is the Red Bull garage, where you find Max joking around with some of his pit crew, comparing tans and exchanging stories about their summer holidays. His smile grows even wider when he spots you and he gives you a quick wave, motioning for you to come over, “Hello.” 
You step into his outstretched arms without a moment’s thought, “God, I’ve missed you, Maxy.”
He hugs you closer, “How are you?”
“Good,” you tell him, before you let go and take a step back. “I just wanted to hear if we’re still on for dinner with your mom tonight?”
“She’s been talking about nothing else ever since she got here,” Max chuckles. “I think we’re staying in the same hotel, right?” He waits for you to nod before he continues, “Ok, so why don’t we meet in the lobby at seven and I’ll ask mum to meet us there? I think she wants to go to that restaurant we went to last year also.”
“With that housemade ‘Stoofvlees’,” you try, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. Your mouth starts to water just thinking about the dish, a beef and onion stew that Sophie convinced you to try last year and that you have thought about ever since. 
Max laughs, “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Perfect,” you agree with a nod as you start to walk backwards towards the pitlane, “I’ll see you at seven then.”
***
“Oh my God,” you roll your eyes and lean back in your chair, savouring the taste of your final bite. Holding your hand in front of your mouth then, because you still have some manners left, “That was so good!”
Sophie and Max share a look before they both let out a laugh and Max continues telling you about his holiday in Brazil, after you’ve already told them a little about your time in Mallorca, leaving out a few choice details of course.
Dinner with Sophie and Max is nice, it always is. You don’t get to see Sophie that often and when you do it’s usually just a quick hello in the paddock after quali or before the race and so to be able to sit down with her and Max and have a couple of hours to catch up is a small treat in and of itself. 
When Max excuses himself to go to the bathroom, Sophie leans forwards and waits until he’s out of earshot before she softly says, “There’s something different about you, Pip.” 
You smile and look down, trying to avoid her curious gaze because you know if she looks at you long enough you’ll just spill everything. Instead you trace the rim of your water glass with your fingers and shrug, “I’m just really in a good place, I guess. Work is going well and-”
“Hmm,” Sophie agrees half-heartedly, seeing right through your act. “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me yet, sweetheart. I know how exciting it can be to keep something to yourself for a while.”
“Yeah,” you nod and look up at her, smiling almost apologetically, “I think I should tell Max first-” 
She reaches over the table and puts her hand on yours, “Whatever it is or-” she smiles, “Whoever it is, I’m sure Max will be fine.” 
“I know. It’s just-” you take a deep breath.
“He cares about you so much,” Sophie looks up then and when you follow her eyes you see Max making his way back to the table. She leans in closer, squeezes your hand and whispers, “He’ll be fine.” 
***
During the drivers’ interviews on Thursday, pairing Pierre with Mick and Yuki with Fernando, you stay in the media room for all ten interviews like you always do, smiling when you see Carlos and Daniel walk on stage. 
You’re all the way in the back of the room but still Carlos’ eyes find yours and the smile he sends you makes the heat rise to your cheeks. Daniel is too busy cracking jokes with one of the journalist to notice anything but then Carlos gets asked what he did over his summer holidays, which he answers with a very vague, “Not much, I enjoyed having some time off while also making sure I kept up with the training schedule,”, and all of a sudden Daniel’s all over him with cheeky grins and cheesy winks that are meant to let everyone know that, as far as Daniel’s concerned, Carlos is not telling the full story.
For a moment you’re worried Daniel knows- Something, but- He couldn’t, can’t he? Still, you clear your throat loud enough to catch Daniel’s attention and when his eyes land on you, you tell him to cut it out with a miniscule shake of your head. 
He furrows his brows and you know he’ll give you shit for it later, but for now you’ve averted the crisis because the next journalist is already asking Carlos what he thinks of the weather forecast for this weekend and if he’s worried about the race being delayed.
***
“What was that all about, babe?”
You startle a little when Daniel’s warm breath hits your neck and so you curse quietly, which in turn makes him laugh, turning a few heads in your direction. You try to smile apologetically, knowing it’s best not to have the pinnacle of F1 journalism on your bad side.
“Bad conscience, huh?” He pinches your side and puts his mouth even closer to your ear, “So come on, spill the tea, what were you and Sainz up to this summer?”
“Nothing,” you whisper in his direction. “I just didn’t think it would be good for either team if they found out during a press conference that an Alpha Tauri employee spent their summer at a Ferrari driver’s house. There’s a time and place for that, Dan.”
Daniel sucks some air between his teeth, “Yeah, that could get nasty real’ quick, huh?” He slings his arm around your shoulder then and holds up his other hand, extending his pinky to you, “Pinky promise nothing happened?”
You don’t hesitate and hook your finger behind his, “Pinky promise.”
“Good,” he says and oddly enough it sounds as if he believes you because he nods to the podium then, “Let’s hear what these two have to say for themselves then, babe.”
You follow his eyes towards the podium, where Max and Charles are answering some rather boring answers about strategy and their expectations for this weekend.
***
Carlos finds you in the Alpha Tauri hospitality early on Friday morning, the paddock still relatively quiet and not too many other drivers yet around. It’s been your race week ritual ever since he moved from Toro Rosso to Renault and so you were already waiting with an espresso for him and a cappuccino for you. It’s weird, having to act as if you’re still just friends because God, you really want to kiss him. To distract yourself you keep playing with the charm on your bracelet.
He notices, of course he does, and says, with one raised eyebrow and a rather mischievous grin, “If you would just tell him we could- You know-”
“Carlos-” You add a dramatic sigh for full effect. “Later. Ok?”
“Later today, or-” Carlos lets out a laugh when you throw him a look, “What? I need to know how to plan my day, cariño. Can I kiss you? Can I not ki-”
“Carlos!” You put your hand over his mouth and look around rather panicked, hoping nobody has heard him. It doesn’t seem anyone did, “You are a menace, you know that.”
Carlos wiggles his eyebrows and nips at the palm of your hand.
“Oh Jesus Christ.” You let out a sigh and pull back your hand, “I will tell him after the race, ok? I promise.”
He pouts. Of course he does. 
You shake your head but can’t help but laugh, “Two more days, babe. You’ll manage.”
“Babe?”
Shit. You turn around and try your best to act cool, “Hi Lando.”
Lando seems unimpressed and points at Carlos, “What are you calling him ‘babe’ for?”
“She’s angry,” Carlos says before you even have the chance to come up with an excuse. When Lando looks between you and Carlos and back, looking more confused than ever, Carlos leans in and whispers, “Did you never notice she calls people ‘babe’ whenever she tries to get her point across even though she knows you’re not gonna listen?”
And, oh damn if that isn’t the truth. You just never knew he picked up on that.
Landos squints at you but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and just as you’re convinced he’s not buying it he starts nodding enthusiastically, “She does!”
“Lando!” You playfully smack his chest, “You’re supposed to disagree, babe.”
Lando’s eyes widen and then he lets out a cackle, “You’re literally doing it right now.”
You can’t help but laugh but throw Carlos a quick wink when Lando isn’t looking and mouth a quiet, “Nice save.”
***
While the first free practice is rather uneventful, FP2 has Max losing control of the rear of his car and spinning out at Malmedy, hitting the wall. Despite that he still manages to set the fastest time and so you’re not too worried about him or the car, although you still send him a text to make sure he’s ok. 
It’s nearing the end of the day and so you’re busy  gathering your things when you hear your name being called from outside the garage. When you look up and see your best friend standing there, waving enthusiastically, you can’t help but run over to her and throw yourself at her for a hug, “Hi friend!”
“Hi babe,” she hugs you closer. “I’ve missed you.” 
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit easily enough. 
She lets go then and puts her hands on your arms, “Now tell me, how are things with that boy toy of yours? I want to know everything.”
“Flo,” you warn through gritted teeth, a quick look around to make sure Pierre isn’t within earshot, “not here.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “During dinner then.” She looks at you expectantly, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, let me just grab my things-” you say and nod towards your bag and jacket. “I do want to get changed first though, so we’re stopping at my hotel first, ok?”
“Ok,” she echoes, the word dramatically drawn out, “but you're driving.” 
***
“So yeah, friends with benefits,” you conclude your story of your time with Carlos. 
Flo eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything.
“We’re just having fun-” you try again but it sounds rather unconvincing and you hope she’s not going to push it. You feel terrible lying to your best friend but you really want to tell Max first and so you add with a cheek grin, “-and great sex, so win-win.”
“Hmm,” she hums, leaning back in her chair, a glass of wine dangling between her fingers. “There’s something you’re not telling me, though.” A wicked grin then, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
“Counting on it,” you challenge her, holding up your glass. “Cheers, babe.” 
***
Saturday has a change of weather and all of a sudden you find yourself waiting in the garage, the first qualifying session delayed by fifteen minutes because of the rain that’s absolutely pouring down. You’re not really needed for qualifying but you like to show your support to both Yuki and Pierre and so you tend to hang around anyway.
When it’s finally time to get started, you find your way to the TV screens lining the wall and watch the first round of quali unfold with Pyry, Pierre’s trainer, standing next to you, absolutely towering over you. Flo is standing on Pyry’s other side, nervously chewing on the cuticle of her thumb as her eyes are glued on the screen. You know Spa holds some horrendous memories for her and that she’s not just watching Pierre but Charles as well and so you stand next to her and take her free hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Together you see Yuki getting eliminated after the first stint and Carlos and Charles stranding in Q2, while Pierre and Max advance to Q3, where a crash from Lando brings out the red flags after only a few minutes of racing, which means Max takes pole and Pierre starts sixth on the grid tomorrow. 
***
You’re in the media pen with Pierre once qualifying is over and zone out a little when he’s answering questions from Ziggo Sports because their reporter Jack has a very roundabout way of asking something that’s always rather simple. You can’t wait to get out of this cold and so you’re sort of daydreaming about the hot shower waiting for you in your hotel room. It’s then you see Carlos walking over to Sky Sports who are lined up next to where you’re standing and you can feel your heart skip a beat because God, he looks good. 
He catches you looking and throws you a wink, taking off his cap and running a hand through his hair, knowing exactly what it does to you.
You quickly avert your eyes and try to focus on Jack’s next question but it turns out the interview is over and thus so are Pierre’s media duties. You walk back to the garage together in silence, both of you lost in thought. Before he disappears into his driver's room to get changed, you remind him there’s a scheduled post going up on his Instagram in an hour or so and then  continue on towards the Alpha Tauri offices to collect your bag so you can head out and call it a day. 
You’re in a relatively quiet part of the paddock when you feel someone walking up behind you and before you can even turn around there are two hands on your hips, gently pushing you into a dark corner in between the Alpha Tauri and Ferrari garages. You gasp, ready to punch whoever has grabbed you but then you hear a low chuckle that you’d recognize anywhere and so instead you turn around and gently slap his chest, whispering a berating, “Carlos!”
“What?” He tries to act all innocent while grinning wickedly, “There’s no one around, cariño. And I really, really want to kiss you. If I have to wait until Sunday evening I won’t survive.”
You let out a giggle, hiding your face against his chest, “You’re so dramatic.”
“It’s why you love me,” he counters almost instantly. “Let me kiss you?”
“We can’t-” you try but you know it’s a losing battle when he puts his fingers under your chin and tilts your head back, making you look up at him. 
He licks his lips and lets his eyes fall to your mouth, “Please?”
You don’t say anything but instead push yourself up, brushing your lips against his, letting out a tiny whimper when he kisses back, hard. Soon enough you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, your hands sneaking into his hair, wishing you could stop time for just five minutes or so. 
Carlos has just slipped his tongue inside your mouth, making you moan a little, when you hear a manic laugh coming from somewhere close by.
Both you and Carlos pull back at the same time and you hold onto his arms as you look around him, trying to find the culprit. Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe they were laughing at something else. Maybe it’s-
It’s Pierre.
Oh shit.
You curse quietly and step to the side, rounding Carlos, arms outstretched to your driver as if any sudden movements will set something in motion you’re not ready to deal with yet. 
Pierre shakes his head, still laughing, and holds up his phone, snapping a picture, “C’est chaud ça, hein?”
“Pierre Jean-Jacques Gasly,” you warn him, using your best mom-voice as you slowly walk towards him, “don’t you dare. Delete that.” Dropping your voice then, hoping it will get your point across, “Now.”
It’s no use, his fingers are already hovering over the screen, his lips curled up in a manic grin, “Oh, this is so good-” 
“What are you doing?” Your voice is a little high-pitched but Jesus, if he puts any of this on Instagram-
It’s then he looks up and when he sees how close you are he tries to act very innocent all of a sudden, dropping his smile and shrugging, “Nothing.” 
You take a deep breath, trying your hardest not to panic, “Give me your phone.”
“What? No.” Pierre takes a step back and hides his phone behind his back.
“Cabrón,” Carlos says from over your shoulder, his voice low and a warning there that makes a shiver run down your spine. “Give her your phone.”
“I didn’t do anything stupid, ok? I just wanted proof. So I can collect my winnings-” He seems to realise his mistake the moment the words leave his mouth and he tries to cover it up by adding, “It’s not online, I swear.”
You look at him in shock, starting to connect dots you’re not sure you want to connect, “Winnings? What? Do you have a bet going on or-?” It’s then you remember your call with Flo, where she told you to figure things out before Spa and- You can’t believe Pierre and Flo would actually bet on you getting together with Carlos. Then again- You shake your head, figure you can worry about that later. Your first priority is getting Pierre’s phone and if he wants to piss you off some more by not giving it to you, fine. You’ll go get it yourself.
Out of nowhere you lunge forward, pushing Pierre against the back of the Ferrari garage and distracting him with a well aimed flick to his cheek-
“Oi!”
-and reach behind him, taking the phone and running back to hide behind Carlos. Pierre’s phone is locked but of course you know the code and so you pull up his last used app, a little surprised to see it’s Whatsapp, and open the most recent message thread, which is a group chat called “Chili and Pip 2021” and for a brief moment you wonder how many previous group chats there have been that they had to add a year to the name. You file that away for later because there are too many contacts in the group for it to just be him and Flo. Jesus. 
The last message Pierre sent in the chat is the picture he took, showing Carlos’ back and you behind him, looking absolutely livid. The message he attached a very eloquent, ‘Busted!’
“I can explain-” Pierre tries, and at least now he has the decency to look a little guilty. 
“I want you-” you point his phone at him, “-Flo, and everyone else in this fuckin’ group chat in my office in ten minutes,” you tell him through gritted teeth, stepping in front of Carlos then to make your point. “And I’m keeping your phone so you can’t pull any more bullshit, Gasly.”
“But-”
“Nine minutes and forty seconds,” you warn him, turning on your heels then and hold out your hand, waiting until Carlos takes it before you tug him towards the Alpha Tauri building.
When you reach your office, you can’t help but laugh, “Oh, this is going to be fuckin’ awesome.”
Carlos seems confused.
You let go of his hand and lean against your desk, “I know this is not the reaction you expected but- Ok. So. Honestly? I’m actually not surprised they made a bet out of it, I mean- It’s- It’s what we do. When Charles and Flo first started to realise that maybe they liked each other as more than friends, Pierre and I bet on how long it would take him to make it Instagram official so- I won, by the way,” you add with a grin. You wave your hand around, “Not really the point. Anyway, the thing I’m most upset about is that I didn’t figure this out sooner-”
“Why?” He looks at you like he’s afraid you’ve lost your mind, which honestly, after the way you’ve been rambling, you can understand.
“So we could have messed up their wagers,” you explain. “We could have pretended to have gotten into a big fight or- I could have made up a boyfriend, you know? Just, mess with them a little.”
Carlos visibly relaxes and nods, admitting with a shy smile, “Pierre once bet me that Charles would cry during his first podium.” He shrugs and his smile grows wider then, “He lost.”
You can’t help but laugh, “I should have known this would happen. Ugh-” you let out a frustrated sigh but then clap your hands together, “Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do-”
***
“Everyone here?” You look at Pierre, who nods. You’re not convinced, “Where’s Max?”
“Max isn’t in on this-”
Oh, thank God.
“-he doesn’t know anything about this,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall. “We know how protective he is of you and-"
“Ok. Thank you, Daniel.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when you see Daniel shrink back against the wall like a naughty schoolboy who has been told off by the headmaster. You’re leaning against your desk, hands resting on the cool surface on either side of you, and look across the room. 
All the usual suspects are here; Pierre, Charles, Flo, Lando, Daniel- You’re a little surprised to see Yuki here but then again, are you really? You know from experience that Pierre can be quite persuasive and so he probably bullied the younger driver into taking part. No, the one that surprises you most is Rupert, Carlos’ personal trainer. When your eyes land on him you shake your head, hoping it conveys your disbelief, “Really Rupert?”
He laughs and shrugs, “I’ve been seeing you two-” he says with a nod towards Carlos, “- dance around each other since his first year in Formula One, darling. I’m honestly surprised it has taken you this long to figure it out.”
The rest of the drivers in the room nod in agreement. Flo even has the audacity to throw you a look that says ‘Told you so.’
“Anyway,” you continue, focusing on Pierre again. “Since you seem to be the ringleader, Gasly, please explain what’s going on here?”
“Well, I-” Pierre runs a hand through his hair and looks at Flo for backup. 
“No. nu-uh.” She shakes her head, “This was all you, Gas.” 
His eyes widen in shock at the betrayal by his friend, “Do I need to remind you about-”
“You do not,” Flo bites back. “We both know what happened that night.” As always, they only need half a word to have a full conversation. Flo crosses her arms in front of her chest then, “You’re the one who created the group chat, non?”
Next to her Lando and Yuki nod but then Pierre throws them a warning look and suddenly their shoes are much more interesting to look at. Lando, at least, has the decency to blush.
“I can’t believe you’re going to let me take the blame for this,” Pierre says under his breath before he turns back to you. “Fine. Ok. So-”
You hold up your hand to get him to stop talking and shake your head, “I don’t need all the details. Just tell me who got it right and how much they won.”
Pierre shrugs, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “I did.” 
“Hey. No,” Yuki says then. “You said race day at Spa, Pierre. It’s not race day yet, is it?”
“Exactly,” Flo joins in. “So I won.” 
“No. No, no,” Lando jumps in and points at Flo, “You said before Spa. So technically you both got it wrong.”
You let out what you hope is a frustrated sigh, “Ok, so did no one get it right, or-” 
Charles shakes his head in reply, “No. But I think Pierre is the closest.”
“That doesn’t count though, does it?” Carlos says from where he’s standing next to you and when you risk a glance in his direction you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to laugh. 
“I guess not,” Charles agrees quietly, hanging his head.
“Ok, so then the money is ours,” you say with a shrug as if that settles it. “Perfect.”
A round of protests starts across the room, Pierre arguing that that’s not how it works, while Yuki suggests using the money for a new bet instead, and Lando saying that because you weren’t in on the bet you couldn’t possibly win.
From the corner of your eye you see Daniel push himself off the wall, drawing your attention with a quick wave, “Babe, it has been swell, but Michael’s waiting on me for some guided meditation or- Whatever. I gotta skedaddle out of here.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans then and pulls out a folded fifty Euro bill, reaching over Yuki to hand it to you, “I’ll make sure Michael pays you tomorrow, yeah?” 
“Michael’s in on this as well?” 
“Yep,” Daniel nods. “He had you down for Abu Dhabi, by the way-” he throws you a wink, “-So I’ll let him know he’s way off.” 
“Sure. Ok. Whatever,” you reply, not surprised. Daniel is just about to open the door when you call out to him, “Dan?” When he turns around you lock eyes with him, “Not a word about this to Max, ok?” You look at everyone in the room then, “I mean it, guys. He can’t hear this from you.”
A chorus of, “We know,” echoes across the room.
“Good.” A smile then, “Thank you.” 
“So,” Pierre starts hesitantly, testing the waters, “can we go now, or-”
“Well first of all, you are an idiot for thinking we would announce our relationship on race day.” You scoff, “Have I taught you nothing in our years of working together?”
Pierre hangs his head and repeats from memory, a mocking tone to his voice, “No important news during race weekends. We wait until we’re in between races before we put out personal news.”
“Exactly.” You push yourself off your desk then, “And second of all, it looks like you all owe me fifty Euros, suckers-” you hold out your hand and grin, “- so pay up.”
***
“I really should go see Max,” you tell Carlos once it’s just you and him, and an unexpected three hundred Euros in your back pocket. 
“Do you want me to come with you?”
You think about it for a second and then nod, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Ok,” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple. “Do you know where he is?”
“Probably still in the garage,” 
Carlos laughs, “Yes, I think that might be our best shot.” 
***
Sure enough you find Max in the back of the Red Bull garage, going over some data with GP. You walk up to him, Carlos waiting outside because even though they tolerate employees of the sister team in here, you’re not sure it would go over well if you invited one of Red Bull’s main competitors into the lion’s den.
“Max?” You smile as he looks up from the screen and nod towards the pit lane, “Can I talk to you for a second?”
He looks at GP, who nods, “Yeah, we are done here anyway.” Max follows you outside without asking questions and if he’s surprised to see Carlos standing there he doesn’t show it and instead looks at you expectantly, “What do you want to talk about?”
“So,” you draw out, hoping a few extra seconds will help you find the right words, “I have to tell you something. And I need you to not freak out-”
“I won’t-”
“You freak out, Max,” you tell him with a kind smile. “Remember when I told you I missed my flight from Amsterdam and caught a ride with that guy who was driving to Paris so I could take a train from there?”
“Yeah, but that was of course dangerous, Pip,” Max berates you, arms folded in front of his chest now. “He could have been a murderer, or-”
“Yeah, ok,” you hold up your hand to stop him. “This is not that, ok. I am not in danger, so-”
“I’m not going to freak out,” Max says with a heavy sigh, “but you are getting on my nerves. Just tell me what’s going on.”
You take a deep breath and risk one last glance at Carlos, who gives you an encouraging nod, that does nothing to calm your nerves, “CarlosandIareinarelationship,”
Max furrows his brows, “What?”
“Carlos and I,” you repeat, slower this time. “We’re together. In a relationship. It’s very serious, at least uh- For me it is. And I uh-” you know you’re rambling but you can’t seem to stop, “I think Carlos is serious about it as well. I mean, he gave me a bracelet so-”
“Pip,” Carlos puts his hand on your arm and shakes his head, a smile tugging on his lips, “stop.” 
You blow out a breath and look at Max, trying one last time, “Carlos and I are in a relationship.”
Max stays silent for a bit but then deadpans in that way only he can, “I of course know.”
“I-” you echo, confused. “You know?”
“Yes.”
“Ho- How?”
Then, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, “I saw you kissing in the paddock earlier today.”
“Huh.” You look at Carlos, still panicking a little,  pointing from you to him and back, “He saw us kissing in the paddock.” 
“Seems like he did,” Carlos answers calmly as if somehow he knew Max knew all along. 
“Did you know he saw us, or-”
Carlos shakes his head, “I did not but-”
You turn back to Max, “And you’re ok with this?” You’re not sure why you’re trying to self sabotage here but the question comes out almost on its own.
“Of course,” Max looks from you to Carlos as if he’s confused why you’re even having this conversation. 
“Ok.” You nod, relieved, “Ok. Cool. Uhm-” you look at Carlos and shrug, “Well, I guess that’s that then.” 
“That doesn’t mean I won’t seriously hurt you if you ever hurt her,” Max says then, looking at Carlos with that determined look he gets whenever he tries to get his point across.
“I know, cabrón,” Carlos agrees easily enough. He claps Max on his back, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
***
EPILOGUE
It’s after Abu Dhabi and its controversial last race, where Max beats Lewis on the last lap and thus wins the championship, after post-season testing, after a hug goodbye and a promise to stay in contact over the winter break to both Yuki and Pierre, and after a quick stop in Monaco where Max gets off his plane and wishes you safe travels, leaving you in the hands of his trusted cabin crew, that you find yourself on your way Mallorca once again. 
This time Carlos is waiting for you at the airport, standing a little to the side so as to not draw attention to himself, a black baseball cap drawn over his eyes, and his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You spot him before he sees you and you swear your heart skips a beat the moment he looks up and you lock eyes with him.
God, you’ve missed him. 
Sure, you’ve seen him just about every other weekend since you left Mallorca in August but other than some stolen glances in the paddock, your regular coffee dates, and some very spicy text messages and phone calls, you haven’t actually been with him and it’s gotten more and more difficult as time went by and so it takes everything you have not to run up to him.
Instead, there’s a chaste hug when he greets you, knowing the airport arrivals hall is too much of a public space to do anything but.
It isn’t until you sit down in the passenger’s seat of his car that’s parked in a far away corner in the garage, that he leans in and kisses you fiercely, tongue running between your lips almost immediately. You open your mouth greedily, your tongue chasing his into his mouth before you lick the inside of his cheek, savouring his taste.
Carlos pulls back then and mutters something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but can figure out the meaning of soon enough when he steps back and rounds the car, leaving you to catch your breath on your own. When he steps inside he throws you a look that makes you shiver but doesn’t say anything, instead starting the car and backing up out of the parking space.
You put your seatbelt on and turn towards him in your seat, whispering a quiet, “Take me home, Carlos.”
***
Carlos circles your nipple with his tongue, making your arch your back, and you can feel him smile against your skin when you let out a quiet moan. He’s cupping your other breast with one hand while the other has two fingers inside you, slowly scissoring you open as his thumb rubs circles over your clit. 
You haven’t even made it into the kitchen yet because he’s got you flush against the wall in the hallway, your dress pushed up to your hips and your panties discarded somewhere between the front door and here. “Carlos,” you sigh, your hands cupping his face and guiding his mouth back to yours, the kiss drenched in want and need and-
“I don’t care how we do it,” Carlos says against the corner of your mouth, “but I’m done hiding you from the rest of the world, mami.” He pulls back a little and looks at you, pupils blown wide, “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
You hum in agreement, throwing your head back so he can kiss his way back to your chest, your hands in his hair now to keep him in place. “All yours, baby,” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse. You cry out when he adds a third finger without warning, your eyes flying open when you feel him drag his mouth from your breasts to your stomach and further down, watching as he drops to his knees and laps at your clit, “Fuck, that’s it. Right there-”
He looks up at you and actually winks before he slides his hand behind your knee and pulls your leg up onto his shoulder for better access. 
The quiet whimper you let out when he pulls his fingers out of you is quickly replaced by a moan when you feel his tongue slide inside and he starts eating you out for real. You grip onto his hair a little tighter and grind your hips against his face, quietly pleading, “Don’t stop,” over and over and over again.
***
“Can’t we just stay here forever,” you muse quietly, your fingers ghosting over his chest, sometimes playing with the charm that’s hanging from his necklace. Behind the curtains the sky is a vivid orange, casting a faint glow into the bedroom that makes it feel like you’re in a movie. “I’ve saved up a nice bit of money and I’m sure you don’t have to work like, ever again-” above you Carlos chuckles, “-so I think we could make it work.” 
“Maybe. But I know mamà would kill us if we don’t make it home for Christmas, cariño,” Carlos reasons, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “so-”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly. You look up at him then, “Speaking of Christmas-I have an early Christmas present for you.”
Carlos raises his eyebrows, “Oh?”
You reach over him and grab your phone, pulling up the app you use for scheduled posts and angling the screen towards him, “I want to post this tonight. I’m done keeping you a secret.”
He takes your phone from you and scrolls through the five pictures you’ve edited, showing a curated timeline of your relationship since August, the first one a picture of him that you secretly took yesterday, when you were waiting on your food in a café in Cala d’Or, the rest of them selfies of you and him throughout the moments you shared together until now. His smile grows wider when he reads the caption before he looks at you again, “You sure?”
“Very,” you confirm easily enough and push yourself up so you can let your lips ghost over his. “We’ve waited long enough.” 
***
“Ok,” you refresh the page to confirm. “Done.”
Next to you Carlos nods, “Good.”
You’re on the couch in the living room, your feet resting in Carlos’ lap, both of you enjoying a glass of red wine. Before you even have a chance to lock your phone it rings, the name of your best friend popping up on your screen and you can’t help but grin when you show Carlos before you accept the call and put it on speaker, “Hi Maxy,”
“Pip-” his voice catches and so he tries again, “Pip, I think you made a mistake.”
“What are you-”
“You posted to your public account,” Max continues, panic seeping through his voice. “I don’t think- This should of course go on your private account. What if anyone- Oh Godverdomme” he lets out a shaky sigh, “you already have a hundred likes. You need to take it down, Pip, before-”
“Maxy,” you interrupt him with a smile, “breathe.” He’s still rambling and so you try again, “Max Emilian Verstappen, stop. Breathe. And go to Carlos’ profile.”
“But-”
“Do it.” You bite your lip to keep from laughing, Carlos already looking at you with a very bemused smile. In your head you count down, waiting for Max to understand, from three, to two, to one, to-
“Oh,”
“Yeah,” you agree easily enough, knowing Max has just seen the same caption with mostly the same pictures, on Carlos’ page. Except for the first one, where Carlos opted for a picture of you and Piñon sleeping together in the garden.
“So this was on purpose?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“And the team is ok with this?”
You let out a laugh, “Max, I love you but if you really think we posted this without running it by our bosses first I wonder if you even really know me.”
“Yeah, ok, that’s fair.” You can just imagine the way Max hangs his head. “Well, in that case I didn’t call.” 
You can hear him start to say his goodbyes and so you quickly say, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
It stays quiet on the other end of the line for a few seconds but then you hear him let out a heavy sigh that you know is fake because you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Of course. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Maxy,” you say with a self-satisfied smile. “I’ll call you on Christmas Day, ok? Love you.”
“Ik ook van jou.” He clears his throat then, “Oh and Carlos?” 
Carlos leans in, apparently not surprised that Max knows he was listening in, “Yes, cabrón?
“You’re very lucky to have her, mate. Don’t fuck it up.”
Carlos shakes his head even though Max can’t see him and looks at you with a warm smile, his hand wrapping around your wrist and his thumb rubbing the charm on your bracelet, “Never.”
Once you’ve said your goodbyes you put your phone on silent and toss it aside and when Carlos looks at you with a frown, you grin, “Everyone else can wait until tomorrow.”
“God, I love you,” Carlos mutters as he leans forward, swinging one leg over your hips so he’s lying on top of you, holding some of his weight off by resting on his elbows. He looks down at you and dips his head then, finding your mouth with his.
The kiss is different, slower, like you’re both desperate to savour every minute because you know there’s no rush. Not anymore. You let your hands run through his hair and when after a while he pulls back and collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin in regular breaths, you wrap one leg around his waist and let out a content sigh, feeling your eyes grow heavy when you whisper, “I love you.” 
“Te amo, mi reina.”
- FIN -
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foodies-channel · 8 months
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🍥 [Homemade] Dutch classic: Fries with pot roast. Patatje stoofvlees.
🍔YouTube || 🍟Reddit
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askwhatsforlunch · 1 year
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Winter Comforting Stews
And on cold days when you fancy something warming and hearty, these Winter Comforting Stews are just what you are looking for. Slowly simmered meat or fish, in a broth or thick sauce, but always fragrant and tasty! These few recipes, from all over the world, make one relish a a numbing chill!
Poulet D.G. (Chicken E. O.)
Stoofvlees (Dutch Beef and Beer Stew)
Spinach, Sweet Potato and Lentil Dahl (Vegan)
Potée Auvergnate (Ham Hock, Sausage and Vegetable Stew)
Bourguignon Stew with Cheese Dumplings
Poulet Basquaise (Basque Chicken)
Prawn and Trout Bouillabaisse
Sea Bass with Potatoes and Carrots in Saffron Cream
Burns Night Scotch Broth 
Petit Salé aux Lentilles (Ham Hock and Lentil Stew) 
Lamb Tagine
Sweet Potato Chicken Curry
Hearty Chicken and Dumplings
Chicken Mafé
Beef Stew with Fluffy Dumplings
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queer-crusader · 8 months
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I'm not from the u.s. ask: 4, 16, 24!
4. favourite dish specific for your country?
Bourgondisch stoofvlees!!! I know Burgundy is perhaps more Belgium/France than the Netherlands, but the south gets a little bit of Burgundy stew, as a treat 😌 it's basically beef stewed in beer until it's soft enough to melt in the mouth, with flavouring ingredients like butter, onion, laurel leaves, cloves, mustard and apple molasses (a common Dutch bread spread - we like our sweets here. Not me tho, I've got too much eastern Europe in me for that. Still, the apple molasses are definitely good in this). Put it on some potatoes (the Belgian way is fries of course, my personal choice is a good fucking mash) and you'll be in heaven. I've found this recipe, but it's in Dutch - hopefully your browser will translate it to English.
As this food isn't like, exclusively Dutch, I will give an honorary mention to boterkoek, which is like a rich, velvety, melt-in-the-mouth type of sort of shortbread. Super simple to make, super rich and tasty. Just beware, I've found some people aren't as fond of the buttery texture. Here's a recipe; my personal tip for authentic flavour is vanilla, and a royal pinch of salt
16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?
The weed stereotype bores me to fucking tears. Yes we have legal weed shops, they're called coffee shops. No, not everyone smokes weed. Literally do not care. Weed tourists (yes a real term) annoy us to no end. On the flip side, the cycling stereotype? 1000% correct. This is, together with Denmark, pretty much the safest cycling country in the world. If we see someone wearing a helmet they're likely a tourist. The country is also fucking flat and tiny so cycling is easy. People here regularly go on cycling holidays. The Tour De France is perhaps one of the biggest sporting events on TV alongside football (tho I don't like it personally). We have parking buildings just for bikes that can store up to 9000 of the fuckers. Yes, these get filled up. Everyone here cycles
24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?
Like any other country, we joke about our neighbours! In our case, the Belgians get the worst of it (tho the same goes for vice versa)
Thanks for asking!! Feel free to send more of these
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greencheekconure27 · 7 months
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Somehow every time I make stoofvlees (Flemish beef stew) it turns out I didn't make enough stoofvlees. :((
I really need to make it more often, stuff's good.
If I'm gonna spend 4 + hours on a dish I might as well commit and make a huge pot of it, it's not like it ever didn't get eaten.
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kleefkruid · 1 month
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Not from the US ask game 4 and 11?
4. favourite dish specific for your country?
Is it cheating if I say the beer? No dish-wise I'd have to go with stoofvlees, because it takes such a long time so you know it's done with love if you go eat somewhere and you get served it. (also I'm the only one of my friends who knows how to make it properly + has the patience and I like the praise shhh)
11. favourite native writer/poet?
Oh hmm I really don't have a favorite of anything so I'm just going to take the easy route and say Paul van Ostaijen because the typography based poems are still interesting to non-Dutch speakers
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jacky93sims · 1 year
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Hi Jacky! Could you maybe try to make some belgian food like vol-au-vent, Carbonade flamande (stoofvlees) & fries (from a frietkot)?
I would highly appreciate it, thank you!
Sure! :)
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