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faveficarchive · 5 years

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Together

By Blue Dragon

Pairing: Mel/Janice

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Mel and Janice are on another dig with friends, and come to terms with the shifting nature of their relationship.

Staring out at the sun setting low on the desert horizon, Doctor Janice Covington pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of her jacket. This was her favorite time of day. The locals hired on to be diggers had all gone home, except for those few trustworthy enough for sentry duty, that is. The rest of the staff was either taking a breather before dinner or preparing for tomorrow's labors.

Hopefully, they'll get better, Janice thought as she lit her cigar. The day's labors were nothing to write home about.

It was the time of day where Janice was free to stand outside her tent in the meager shade, relax with a cigar and survey her kingdom.

Not that its much of a kingdom, she told herself, letting the thick smoke play in the air as she exhaled. But it will suffice. At least for now. She thought about that for a moment or two. "No, this is all I want. All I can handle." She muttered aloud. Looking around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, Janice chuckled. "Wonder if Gabrielle talked to herself. Guess I'll never know."

Janice relaxed after ascertaining that no one would be privy to this little habit she shared with both her father and mother. Thinking aloud was apparently a genetic trait. At least in her family. At least that was what her father told her. How could she know?

Shaking her head to free her mind of what ifs surrounding her family, she settled on contemplating the more recent past. Three months recent in fact. She grimaced at the memory of Ares and his "cursed" tomb. It had taken this long for the team to regroup, move the dig about two miles to the south, and get settled in. Surprisingly, the cover story they devised had worked and the crew was able to continue with their work unsupervised for at least the last month. The first two months had the Greek officials out to the sites every other day to make sure no more accidents occurred.

The cover story was that Smythe had held Janice, Melinda and Jack hostage in the tomb while his bullies searched it. Unfortunately, they didn't find anything. Also unfortunately, when one of the thugs opened a previously sealed door to another cavern, Smythe himself went to investigate. Too bad that the cavern was filled with natural gas and Smythe was a smoker. Apparently his cigarette caused a massive explosion. Janice, Mel, and Jack were barely able to escape with their lives. It was only fair, they were in a different part of the tomb after all and couldn't see what was going on.

The Greek officials said nothing condemning towards them. It wasn't their fault. These things happen. It was a risk in Archeology. Everyone knew that. They did warn Janice to be more careful about trusting certain people and to make sure that the caverns were aired out properly in the future. She agreed with appropriate humility, and all was well. The head of Greece's Department of Archeology didn't like Smythe anyway. He was happy it was "all above board" as he called it.

Getting Jack to agree hurt. A lot. She ended up bribing him with two of the Joxer Scrolls as he called them. She wasn't too much worried. Knowing Jack, he'd have them translated, put in a box and they'd be the archeological find of the next century when his great grand kids finally clean out his attic. With her luck, they end up being the basis for a cheap movie or radio program. What was it Ares had said? Idiocy was a family trait? Nope, She thought, nothing to worry about there.

The locals that had helped set everything up for the explosion eagerly went along with the idea. In exchange for an extra two days off, one with pay, of course. Most of them were just happy to be rid of the curse that had haunted the dig site. None of them realized that Smythe was cause of the curse. Then again, they really didn't care.

Convincing the rest of the staff and the students working the dig was also not a problem. She simply told them what she told the Greek officials. The senior staff members were all on a holiday anyway, playing around in one of the nearby villages buying supplies, getting laid, relaxing, whatever. Janice really didn't care what they were doing at that time, just that they believed her story. They did. After all, being able to talk her way out of anything also ran in the family. She did, however, tell two of her most trusted friends on the staff, Julie Waitreford and Roger Grant, the truth. They didn't believe her. She hadn't expected them to really.

Melinda, on the other hand, had posed a problem until Janice had her recite the story aloud. Janice had laughed hearing Mel's version of events. She could still hear the Southerner's voice in her head:

"Well, Smythe and his bunch of bullies accosted us and dragged us into the tomb. We found the Scrolls after Smythe had disappeared, and then found half of this round killin' thing that had belonged to Xena. Smythe showed up with the other half and tried to kill me. Dr. Covington saved me and we went into this other part of the tomb where all the torches lit by themselves. Then I was possessed by Xena so she could fight Ares, the God of War. The next thing I know was Dr. Covington helpin' me to my feet and then blowin' up the tomb to keep Ares from escapin'."

It still made Janice smile. After hearing for herself just how incredible the story sounded, Melinda agreed that the lie was better. Although she still didn't agree with the concept of falsehoods.

The dinner bell rang at that moment, tearing Janice away from thoughts of the tall, dark and enigmatic Southerner. She took one last look at her little kingdom, extinguished her cigar, put it away to keep it safe for later and went to wash up for dinner.

***

Dinner in the common mess type tent was a self serve affair. It was set up in a buffet style line and the staff, whatever field workers stayed at the camp, and their families could help themselves to whatever the cooks had decided to make that day. The kitchen was only open for three meals, and only for an hour and a half for each meal. It was a strict policy that if you missed out, you were on your own. Long ago, on one of her father's digs, Janice had learned never to wait and try her luck. She didn't appreciate missing a meal.

Janice grabbed a tray and walked through the line mindlessly gathering food onto her plate. She, like certain ancestors before her, didn't care what it was, as long as it was edible. She had that one, of several, advantage over most of her colleagues. She had found very few types of food that disgusted her in her travels. Most of the time she barely even noticed what she was eating unless it was either very good, very bad, or squid. Squid and sushi fell into the very bad, do not touch, I-can't-believe-you- want-me-to-eat-that category. She made it a point to interview the cooks closely to ascertain their feelings of seafood. If they believed fish should be cooked and squid should be used only for bait, they were hired.

Dr. Paul Stafford, Julie, Melinda, and Roger were already sitting at the "Round Table" when she finished gathering enough food to satisfy her appetite. She walked over and sat her tray down as Melinda was engaging Stafford in a conversation on Southern cooking.

"Really, Dr. Stafford, you must try some of our cuisine. Why I'd give almost anything to taste some of old Melba's hush puppies, turnip greens, creamed corn, fried chicken, catfish, black eyed peas, corn bread and white gravy. You just haven't lived until you've had a plate full of good ole home cookin' Southern style." Melinda finished by looking at her plate as if by sheer will it would transform into the food she was just describing. The rest of the party seemed satisfied by the food in front of them, and showed no interest in turnip greens. Janice was actually wondering what on earth they could be.

"My dear Ms. Pappas, I've actually been to the South. Mississippi in fact. I had to go and stay in this town, they called it a city, but still...Biloxi, I believe. They wanted to find the original site of the founder's landing. I was only there for two days before going to New Orleans, but they had the best shrimp. Its right on the Gulf of Mexico, and some of the restaurants catch their seafood fresh daily before dinner. It was marvelous. I could live without the hush puppies, but everything else was great. Especially in New Orleans. Now, that's a town that knows cuisine." Paul smiled kindly in Melinda's direction before returning his attention to his tray.

As Julie began her dissertation on her favorite meal, Janice studied her companions as she ate. The five of them were the top rungs of the dig's hierarchy, and commanded a table the undergrads and grad students working the dig had nicknamed the "Round Table" in reference to the sharing that went on there. Janice was not a control freak. She asked questions of her teammates and expected questions to be asked of her. In her mind, it was a group effort. Her tiff with Melinda over the discovery of the Scrolls was due to her distrust of the Southerner, and her disgust with what she thought was a spoiled, rich, naive woman-child trying to live off of her father's accomplishments. Xena's appearance straightened that out, but Janice still was not comfortable around Mel, and had only talked with her when necessary. She had only recently begun to warm up to the Southerner. More than warm up to her, if she would admit that to herself, which she wouldn't.

Straight across from Janice sat Paul. Dr. Paul Stafford was with the university funding the dig. He had actually arrived the day after Melinda. His mission, which he had chosen to ignore, was to spy on Janice. He chose to ignore it for two reasons. They were old friends from their days as undergrads and he had kept in touch with her enough after school to know that she did not share her father's moral views on the value of antiquities. He was a nice enough guy, intelligent, funny, compactly built with blond hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. Paul and Janice had gotten into a lot of trouble with pranks their senior year when the dreaded senioritis hit them both with a vengeance.

To her left sat Julie "Curly" Waitreford. She was nicknamed Curly in adolescence because of the unruly blonde curls that she insisted on wearing long. Julie was the camp's secretary and generally Janice's right hand. Her father had been one of Harry Covington's most trusted staffers, and her mother was the camp nurse. After Janice's own mother deserted them, Mama Waitreford took charge of a young Janice and her baby sister Amanda. Add to the mix of Julie, Janice and Amanda, Julie's younger brother Robert, who was the same age as Janice, the four of them raised hell on the digs. It was kind of fitting that the four paired off. Janice and Julie still worked together continuing their parents' work and Amanda and Robert were married just before Harry was killed in a cave-in.

"So Janice, what do you think?" Roger asked interrupting her train of thought. Roger had also been one of her father's closest friends and staffers. Both Roger and Niles Waitreford were the only ones who stayed with him until the end.

"I'm sorry Roger, I was thinking about something else. What do you want me to agree to?" Janice asked turning to face him.

"Poker. Just poker. It must have been some heavy thinking if you didn't hear the plans for your favorite weekend activity." He teased.

"Well, I'd have to say that poker isn't my favorite weekend activity," The group chuckled at Janice's innuendo, all except for Melinda who blushed faintly as was befitting a proper Southern woman. Janice cleared her throat after seeing that. "Yeah, sure, I'll play. Same as always? Here about 8 o'clock?"

The rest of the group nodded. Julie excused herself after making a comment about pretending to take a bath in her tent. Paul left a moment or two later heading in the same direction Janice noted. Roger got up to refill his coffee mug, leaving Janice where she didn't want to be. Alone with Melinda Pappas.

"So, Dr. Covington, have y’all ever been to the South?" Melinda asked, obviously trying to make conversation.

"Yeah. I flew through Dallas on my way to Mexico once or twice. Does that count?"

"My dear Doctor," Mel laughed. "We in the deep South don't consider Texas as being all that Southern. Its more Western with the Mexican influence and all." She stated gently.

"Sorry, I guess my US geography isn't what it should be." Janice looked down at her cup and silently begged Roger to hurry back. She wasn't good at small talk, and the beautiful Southerner made her nervous in a way no one else ever had.

"That's ok. I'll forgive ya for it. Its really an easy mistake to make because only Southerners bisect themselves further than the rest of the county." Melinda on the other hand was a master at small talk. It was a Southern art form that had prompted Mark Twain to scorn their favorite topic, the weather, by saying something like "everyone complains about it but no one does anything about it." Melinda never could remember the exact quote, but it was a favorite one of her daddy's.

"So what are you two ladies discussing?" Roger asked as he sat down. Janice hid a sigh of relief and was about to excuse herself for more coffee when Roger placed the pot on the table. He filled Janice's glass and reached over to refill Mel's but the Southerner just shook her head, declining his offer.

"Geography." Janice replied to his question as she reached for the sugar and proceeded to empty at least three tea spoons of the white powder into her coffee.

Roger looked to Melinda for an explanation, but the tall Southern belle just shrugged.

"Well, if ya'll will excuse me, I think I'm gonna go back to my tent and rest awhile. Evenin' Dr. Grant. Dr. Covington." Melinda rose, gathered up her personal belongings, and exited to her left.

Roger watched her leave and then contemplated his companion in silence. Janice just drank her coffee. Finally the silence became unbearable for the older man.

"Janice, honey, why do you avoid Melinda?" He asked as he turned his chair to face hers.

"I don't avoid her Uncle Roger. I just don't know how to talk to her outside of the Scrolls." Roger smiled at the term of endearment. He had adopted Janice as soon as he hired on with her father a little less than twenty years ago. Janice was only five at the time. It had amused her father and scandalized her mother. They did make an interesting sight, a little strawberry blonde imp with a nice base tan as was only befitting the child of an archeologist, and a six foot five black man chasing one another through the camp. For awhile, Roger would have sworn that he was only hired as a babysitter. He didn't mind, and he taught Janice a lot about life. After Ms. Covington disappeared a year later, the confirmed bachelor took it upon himself to assist Harry and the Waitrefords with the two kids she left behind. He made his vow to continue looking after his stubborn adopted niece at Harry's grave side.

"Just talk. She won't bite you."

"I know, but I'm not good at making small talk, and...well...I don't know." Janice continued to stare into her mug as if it held the answers she was looking for. She refused to admit her fear of falling for her.

"Little one," Janice smiled at the endearment and lifted her eyes to meet his. "You know we raised you best as we could..." He started unsure of how to continue. Janice saved him the trouble by interrupting him.

"I have never once, and I mean NEVER, regretted the way I was raised or by whom." Janice made sure to keep eye contact with her uncle. "You helped raise Amanda too, and she turned out fine. Even if she did marry Robert."

"Now Janice..."

"I'm just kidding. Robert's a nice guy and will keep her happy and safe. I'm just glad its her and not me he wanted. I can't see myself doing the whole marriage with children thing." Janice chuckled at the image. So did Roger.

"No, although I can see you happy with someone, but you'll never know if you don't open up to others." Roger dropped his eyes to his cup. "I will tell you that if I was younger, I'd spend a lot more time with Ms. Pappas. She's quite smart and very lovely" Janice almost inhaled her coffee.

"What, I mean..." She sputtered frantically looking for a way to turn this away from where she thought it might be leading. "Are you trying to tell me that you have the hots for our translator?"

"I didn't say that. And no, I don't. I just thought that maybe she'd make a good friend. That was all I meant." He covered a grin by refilling his coffee mug. "Why? Did you think I meant something different?" He asked innocently. She had never told her father about her preference for women. He had never asked, and as far as she knew neither her father nor any of his contemporaries knew. She was wrong. Harry Covington had never asked because he hadn't had to, neither did Roger. They knew it, accepted it, and got over it. It was just one more thing that ran in the family. "She'd make a great partner."

"How did you know?" Janice asked looking at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. "I mean other than the clothes, which is mostly because of the heat and for comfort and stuff like local customs..." Janice realized she was babbling. A nervous habit that also ran in her family. "Did Dad know?"

"Yes your father knew. No, it did not disappoint him. No I do not think less of you." He answered the questions her eyes asked. "Little one, as for how we knew, we raised you. We just knew." He answered vaguely. Roger Grant was not a coward by any means, but he felt this conversation would be more appropriate at a later date. Janice seemed to agree and let the matter drop.

"I, ah, I think I'm going back to my tent and get ready for the poker game," She said standing up and pushing her chair back underneath the table. "Be ready to lose a lot tonight, old man. I feel a winning streak coming on." Janice grinned and left him alone at the table.

Roger sighed and finished off his coffee before he too left the table and headed back to his tent.

***

Melinda Pappas sat on the bed in her tent contemplating the changes her life had gone through in a year. God, has it only been a year? She asked herself, taking a sheet of paper and using it for a fan. I really need to start dressing in something more appropriate for the climate. Mother would never make it here. No wonder Daddy never took her along. The paper fan helped a little, but not much. Mel let her thoughts return to her recent past.

Not long after her daddy died the year before, a week and a half after the funeral as a matter of fact, her mother and grandmother began planning her wedding. It didn't matter to them that Jason was stationed on a ship somewhere in the south seas, as soon as he got leave to come home, they wanted to have the wedding. They also disregarded the fact that Melinda didn't want to get married to Jason. Matter of fact, she didn't want a husband at all. When she first told her mother and grandmother that, they chalked it up to nervousness. She was only 18 at the time, so they decided to wait. She quit dating and began studying whatever her father would let her. That was how she learned ancient Greek.

A year ago she turned twenty-seven, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. She had been "dating" Jason for four years and her mother and grandmother felt it time to take the relationship down the aisle. Her father had gone to bat for her every time the subject came up, so had her older brother who was already married with children of his own. After Mel Pappas died, his daughter lost her edge. The matrons ignored Thomas, and to a certain extent Melinda, and set about making plans for the wedding. A week before Mel had hopped a flight to Greece, Jason's ship was sunk off the coast of an undisclosed island. There had been no survivors. The telegram had come four days after the event. Mel had allowed herself two days of mourning for an old friend, then packed and headed out.

She had actually found the telegram Janice had sent asking for Melvin Pappas's assistance shortly after her father died. He had left all of his books and papers to her instead of her mother. Upon reading the telegram and the note he had left with it, she understood why. It wasn't until Jason's death that she was able to find the strength to defy her mother and grandmother by taking her father's advice to flee the household.

What was it the letter said? Mel asked herself. She had it with her, but didn't feel like looking for it at the moment. She knew it by heart and could hear her father's voice so clearly it was as if he were reading it to her. The only way, you'll ever really be happy, my dear child, is to get out of this house as soon as you can. Greece is a good place as any to start. I know the young lady - Mel smiled at that. Janice couldn't really be called a lady, but her daddy always tried to see the best in others - who is running the dig. I dare say the two of you will get along admirably. She will at least help you to answer some of the internal questions you have about yourself and about life.

Now, here she was in a rough camp somewhere in Macedonia. She couldn't pronounce the name of the local village. “How come I can read ancient Greek, but I can't speak the modern version well enough to ask where the restroom is?” She pondered that for a moment before turning her thoughts to Janice Covington and why her father had advised her to find the young archeologist.

That woman is impossible She thought. Although, she has been getting better. And then wondered why she so badly wanted to befriend a woman that didn't seem to need more friends than she already had. And she wondered why her father insisted that she find Janice. What questions about life? She asked herself. Giving that train of thought up as being too philosophical, Melinda turned her mind to solving the problem of getting through Janice's emotional and mental walls.

Melinda Pappas didn't stop to think about why she was staging expanding her relationship with Janice into a full blown friendship as a battle. She just went a head and prepared a strategy, rehearsed it, worked the kinks out of it, got dressed, and headed out for the poker game. She was determined to at least befriend a certain gruff doctor of Archeology. Though her thoughts concerning the dig's director were not all that friendly or sisterly. Melinda didn't understand that either, but she was willing to make the first step toward finding out what her father had meant.

Melinda did know that drawing battle plans ran in her family; however, she had no way of knowing that none of her ancestors ever needed to attempt what she was going to. She also had no way of knowing that roughly two thousand years earlier, a petite strawberry blonde had set in roughly the same area plotting almost the same thing. The exception was that the Bard wanted in, not the Warrior. Never the Warrior, until now.

Neither Janice nor Mel realized that the Universe, in all its vastness has a twisted sense of humor, and when coerced by the Fates, cajolled by Time, and pleaded with by certain spirits and a forgotten god or two now residing in what has become known as heaven, it releases its power with irony in full force. As punishment for crimes neither woman committed that happened before their country of origin was even thought to exist, both Mel and Janice were forced to take on roles defined by their ancestors. The twist that made the Universe quiver with glee, and the Fates to laugh coffee through their collective noses was that the current players were not cast to play the original roles as defined by the first actors on the stage of life. The Bard had become the Warrior, and the Warrior a gentile Southern belle. Even the originals, resting on their halos in the Fields laughed and placed bets on the outcome with their friends. Neither Janice nor Mel would have appreciated the joke.

***

Janice Covington jumped out of bed. She stood in the center of her tent for a moment or two to let her thoughts catch up to her reflexes. The foremost question on her mind was why she was getting up. The answer was slow to appear, but when it did, it galvanized her into action. She had a reputation to protect, and she was not going to sully that rep by missing a poker game.

She ransacked her trunk to find a different shirt, preferably a clean one. Upon finding one and changing quickly, she grabbed her pile of coins saved for just this occasion, threw on her hat and ran to the mess tent. Janice slowed a few feet away from the entrance to compose herself before joining her friends and colleagues inside.

Paul, Julie, Roger, and (surprise, surprise) Melinda Pappas were already seated around the Round Table when Janice joined them. She took the seat nearest Mel, which had been conveniently left open. Janice peered around suspecting a conspiracy, but her friends just smiled innocently at her. That gave her curiosity a mighty tug, but she decided to play along.

"Ok, hotshot," Paul said to get Janice's attention. "I'm feeling lucky tonight. Think I might make back that money I still owe you from college." He reached around behind his chair and produced a bucket filled with water. "But first, I have a surprise for everyone. Close your eyes." He commanded setting the bucket on the table.

"Paul if I get soaked, I'm gonna kill you." Julie warned. Janice and Roger echoed the sentiment. Only Mel was close enough to see what the bucket contained and was not impressed.

"No one is going to get wet. At least not yet, so close those eyes up real tight." They complied and Paul set before each of them one bottle of German beer. Needless to say, Janice, Roger and Julie were very impressed.

"Now, then, I could only get six, and it cost me...well, lets not worry about that. Lets just enjoy the beer, game and friendship." He stated sitting back down.

Roger produced a pack of playing cards as Janice, Paul and Julie opened their beers. Melinda just looked at hers.

Well, I guess if I wanna fit in, this is one way. When in Rome and all that She thought as she struggled to open the bottle before her. Paul took pity on her and opened it with a bottle opener that had been sitting on the table.

"Ok, the rules are as follows," Roger said while shuffling the deck. "Maximum bet is twenty-five cents US or the local equivalent, dealer changes after three hands, the dealer is also in charge of calling the game, and if you get caught cheating..." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Then you obviously need more practice and deserved to get caught." The rest of the group laughed as he began dealing out the cards. "Five card draw."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Janice said after a long pull on her bottle. "Those Germans may be twisted sons of bacchae, but they do make great beer."

"Gee, Janice, don't you know," Julie asked as she assembled the cards before her in some type of order, "that beer is what Germans do best?"

Those at the table laughed, save for Melinda who tried to turn her grimace into a smile. She detested beer, and generally tried to avoid it. I guess its an acquired taste She thought as she took a smaller sip. Although she did have to admit that this one was better than the beer her brother drank. She soon found herself with another type of problem. She had no earthly idea what to do with the cards in front of her. Bridge she could play, poker was not one of her skills.

The rest of the group anted up and Roger prompted Mel to do the same. Mel noticed that the others were discarding cards and wondered if she should. She held a two of clubs, five of hearts, ten of diamonds, ace of spades and jack of clubs in her hand, staring at them as if they were Arabic. Taking a gamble, she placed the numbered cards face down on the table as she had seen Janice do, and waited. Soon Roger handed her three new cards before turning his attention to Paul.

Gingerly, they placed bets. Each one trying to feel the others out without looking like that was what they hoped to accomplish. Melinda kept an eye on Janice and mimicked her movements, except she refused to raise the bet any. After all, she really didn't understand what she held, and didn't want to be out that much change.

Finally, it was time to show hands, as the betting had begun to wear itself out. Paul and Julie showed only a pair each, one of threes and the other of eights. Roger turned his cards over with disgust. He really didn't have anything good to show, while Janice sat hers down with a smile.

"Three of a kind. Sorry fellas. Looks like this one is mine." She placed three nines on the table and reached for the pile of change. Roger stopped her hand.

"Wait a minute there little one, there's still one more hand to check. Melinda?" All eyes turned to the Southerner. Mel just shrugged and laid her cards down on the table face up. Janice let out a sigh of relief after seeing the pair of aces, jack, five and four.

"Yep, this one is all mine." She wiped the pile from the center of the table and proceeded to mix it with her own. Janice grinned the whole time. Mel shrugged again and handed her cards to Roger so they could be reshuffled.

The next two hands saw Paul winning one and Melinda winning the other. Dealership was then transferred to Janice as Julie went to the kitchen to fetch more beer. This time it was Greek and voted inferior to the German beer by all present. However, it was wet and it was beer so the grumbling didn't last too long.

The group talked as they played and drank. Mostly it was rehashing memories of digs gone by or voicing their hopes for the current site, even the occasional political discussion was started. Although that one was usually finished shortly before it could really begin.

Roger made the next beer run after Janice relinquished control of the deck to Mel. Mel was at a loss as to what to do. She didn't think that the others would be interested in bridge, so she did the only thing she could think of (with a little help from two beers): she dealt them all in a game of go fish. Julie and Roger were ecstatic with the choice as it was a break from the norm, however, Paul and Janice considered themselves avid poker players and grumbled at the choice.

Three hands later, Paul took control over the deck. Janice cheered, mainly because she lost all three hands of go fish, and volunteered for the next beer run. While she was gone, Mel took the opportunity to talk. She had been quite for most of the evening, nervous in Janice's company.

"I'm sorry for that game before, but I've never really played poker before tonight," She looked down at her hands while apologizing. Julie reached across the table and laid her hand on Mel's arm in a gesture meant to convey reassurance.

"Don't worry Mel, it was fun. Don't let Janice fool you. She's just upset that she lost." Julie told her with Paul and Roger nodding in agreement.

"I guess you're right, but I just...oh, never mind...its foolish and this is supposed to be fun. I guess the beer is just getting to me." Mel wanted to talk to someone and thought that Julie would listen, but she didn't want to do so in front of the others. Especially when she didn't know when Janice would return.

"Melinda," Julie tightened her grip on the Southerner's arm and looked her in the eye. Mel saw compassion and understanding there. "I know. Its tough, but its worth it." Julie would have said more, but she looked up in time to see Janice balancing five bottles of beer in her arms. Melinda didn't.

"What's worth it?" She asked before being clued in to the Archeologist's presence behind her.

"Yeah, what are you talking about. What's worth what?" Janice asked setting the beer on the table and laughing as it was snatched from in front of her.

"You are, you scamp. You're worth a pot of gold and the heart ache you give someone who tries to find it." Julie said unscrewing the top of her beer. Her eyes twinkled as Janice did something she rarely did. She blushed. "Seriously, I was just assuring Mel that all the effort we put into unearthing a dig is more than worth it."

Janice relaxed and sat down. Melinda hid a sigh of relief. She was not, by any means, a dumb woman, after all, intelligence ran in her family as well. She more than picked up on the hints that Julie had dropped, the innuendo placed out in the open, and the support of a willing ally.

By the time the evening was over, Janice had made good on her boast. She had won most of the remaining hands of poker and ended up with a good portion of the overall pot. With one annoying exception: Melinda had won the last bottle of German beer two hands before when Paul bet it in lieu of money. The poor guy had a horrible run of bad luck, and was forced to watch the remaining two hands as a spectator. They had adamantly refused to let him cash in more money. No one played with anything but the change they had collected between games. That was why they only played once a month. It kept them from getting into real trouble by losing part or all of their pay.

The last game had come down to Julie and Janice. Melinda had lost all but the beer and retired for the evening after the second to last hand. Roger pulled out early on while he still had some change left, and watched the two women go against each other. Julie had two pair, kings and fours, but Janice had three of a kind. To her chagrin, they were sixes. Roger and Paul teased her unmercifully about receiving the "unholy" hand.

After a few minutes of conversation while cleaning up and finishing what was left of their beers, the group dispersed. Janice was actually the last one to leave and smiled when she realized that Paul and Julie had walked back to his tent. She knew that they would probably see the night end and the sunrise together. A small part of her envied them, but the logical self denying part of her reminded her that she had too much to do to get involved with anyone.

As she walked back to her tent, she contemplated the choices she had made in her life. Satisfied with the outcome she dressed for bed. It wasn't until she reached up to turn out the light that she noticed the single bottle of beer on her desk. Getting up and examining it, she realized that it was the same bottle that Melinda had won an hour earlier. Janice placed the bottle in her desk drawer for safe keeping and went to sleep with a small smile on her face.

***

Days off were always done on a Saturday, and were done on a rotating schedule that had one fourth of the staff off at one time. Holidays were the only exception. Janice had adopted that from her father. It made sure that someone was always on hand in case of an emergency, and it kept the staff happy. Sundays were the one day everyone had off thanks to local law. The diggers had the entire weekend free. It kept them happy.

As a result of the relaxed schedule on Saturdays, it was generally a day to do inventory, clean the recent finds, catch up on paper work and do something other than manual labor for a change. Everyone, whether it was their turn to have a free day or not looked forward to Saturdays. Janice was no exception.

She had the chance to participate in her favorite weekend activity for as long as she wanted. Sleep. She slept long and hard on the weekends, making up for the long days and short nights the week before. When she finally did put in an appearance in the mess tent for breakfast (the only thing that could awaken her from solid slumber was food) only Melinda was there.

"Morning. Where's everyone else?" Janice asked as she sat her tray on the table and took her seat across from Mel. She was usually the last one to arrive for breakfast, which was served at a later hour on weekends, and the lack of Roger made her a little nervous. She figured Julie and Paul were worn out and still sleeping.

The tall Southerner had just finished her breakfast when Janice sat down. She hadn't been able to sleep very well the night before. Her sleep was plagued with weird dreams that she kept trying to remember over breakfast. She failed.

"Melinda?" Janice attempted to get Mel's attention, as the Southerner had yet to acknowledge her presence.

"What?" Startled blue eyes looked up into bemused green as Mel came back to earth. "Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Covington. What did you say?"

"I just asked where everyone else is." Janice was both puzzled and intrigued by the evidence of Melinda's wavering attention. The Southerner was usually on top of things as a rule.

"Oh, Dr. Grant was here earlier, but he left to go direct some grad students in proper record keepin'. Apparently they weren't doin' that great a job, and I haven't seen Dr. Stafford or Julie. Do ya think somethin' bad happened to them?" Janice almost lost the mouthful of coffee she was trying to swallow at Mel's innocent question.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine. Probably just overslept." She assured the Southerner. I'm sure something happened between them, not to them, but I'm not sure if it was something bad or not Janice thought to herself.

While Janice ate her breakfast, Melinda sat at the table drinking her coffee and furtively inspecting her companion. Janice didn't look quite the ruffian she had first appeared to be. The clothes were pretty much the same, and she still smoked cigars, but after Smythe's unfortunate accident, Janice had quit wearing the gun. Mel reasoned that the overall appearance hadn't changed too much, but her perspective had.

When Janice had been packing up the truck to move the Scrolls to a safer site, she had promised Mel that they would see this out together. She had kept her promise, hiring Mel on as the official translator and giving the Southerner a reason to stay in Greece. The hard part for Mel was that her idea of together was obviously not the same as the good doctor's. Janice had meant being colleagues, Mel had hoped for friends at the very least. It was that hope that kept her in the camp despite the homesickness and heat. She felt drawn to the young Archeologist like no one else she had ever met before.

"Melinda? Earth to Mel. Miss Pappas are you in there?" Janice was standing above Mel looking down on her and waving her hand in front of her eyes. Mel looked up to see a faint sheen of pink tinge the doctor's face as she stepped back and allowed the Southerner some room. Gods, she really has no idea how attractive she is Mel thought. Her eyes followed Janice as the shorter woman reclaimed her seat.

"Melinda, are you all right?" Janice asked, feeling much better with some space between them. Standing by Mel's chair and looking down at her had allowed Janice the opportunity to see down the sundress that Mel was wearing. Janice brought her hand up to wipe away any drool that may have made an appearance at the sight. She should register those breast as lethal. Anyone would surrender just to see them up close.

Melinda looked down at her lap and then back up at Janice. "Yes, I'm fine. I've just had a lot on my mind. That's all." Yeah, like how to catch you and what to do with you once I've got you The Southerner felt herself flush at the thoughts that were running through her head.

Janice did something then that Mel would have never guessed her capable of. She asked if she could help with the problem.

Yeah, I just don't know how to tell you that. Mel thought. Aloud she said, "That's mighty nice of you to offer Dr. Covington, but this is somethin' I need to work on. Somethin' personal."

Janice, thinking that it was jealousy over Paul and Julie's relationship, let the matter drop. Which was good for all involved, because at that moment the two entered the tent.

"See, Melinda, I told you they just over slept," Janice changed the subject (sort of, at least she thought so) and pointed out the couple to Mel.

"That's good. I'm happy for them. You know, that nothin' bad happened to them." The tall, self possessed Southerner began to ramble. "I think I'm gonna go work on the translations a bit more. I'll drop the preliminary notes off by your tent this evening. Is that ok?" She asked standing to her feet. Janice just nodded at the uncharacteristic ramblings the older woman evidenced. Mel nodded back and blindly rushed out of the tent.

"What did you do to her?" Julie asked as she sat down her plate.

"Nothing. At least I don't think I did." Janice replied before standing up. "I think I'm going to go review the new plans and get started on some overdue paper work. Enjoy your breakfast." She smiled and nodded to both Julie and Paul who had just arrived at the table.

"Do I smell bad or something?" Paul asked sniffing his shirt.

"No, why?" Julie asked with a slight grin.

"Then why did they both leave when we came in? I know you don't smell bad."

"Thanks. I think our dear friend and our translator are just experiencing a small case of UST." Julie informed him.

"UST?" Paul looked blank at the term.

"Yep, Unresolved Sexual Tension. Don't worry, I'll have a chat with Janice about it this afternoon."

"As long as you don't resolve it for her." He warned her. "Unless I'm invited." He added waving his eyebrows up and down in an imitation of the movies.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm just going to talk to her." Julie assured him.

"Shucks"

Seconds later, the kitchen staff was complaining of water stains on their table clothes. Which is amusing because the tables weren't covered, but they were relatively new to the English language, so it could be excused.

Paul had forgotten to put up the bucket of water from last night. Because of his comment, Julie deemed a lukewarm water dowsing as fitting. Moments after that, she was running full speed through the encampment with a very wet Dr. Stafford hot on her heels.

***

"Janice, can you spare a minute?" Julie asked as she walked into the records tent. Other staffers and various students were engaged in either cleaning vases or catching up on their field reports. Janice was hunched over a list of the recent finds from the site. It wasn't a long list. This site hadn't been that productive.

"Damn it! I know there's something here." The Archeologist began pacing, heedless of the others present in the tent. Julie had long since grown used to this habit and just let Janice rant.

"There has to be something here. Maybe on the South ridge." She continued on in that vein for several minutes, all the while pacing back and forth in front of the table. Finally she stopped and noticed Julie standing patiently in the corner.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Paul decided it would be funny to drop me in the stream outside." Julie told her. She looked, to Janice and the rest of the tent's occupants, like a dirty, half drowned rat. Her blonde curls hung loosely around her face and down her back, and she was covered in clay. She looked pitiful. Those not too awe struck by the normally composed woman's appearance found it hard to contain their laughter.

"So, was it?" Janice asked trying to casually hide her mouth behind the report she had been reading.

"Was what, what?" Julie asked shaking her head. That did nothing to improve the situation.

"Was it funny?" Janice managed to get the question out before laughing. Julie looked down at herself and started laughing as well.

"Seriously, Jan, can I talk to you for a minute or two?" The blonde asked. "In private?" She added after Janice had nodded and indicated for her to go ahead with the conversation.

"Yea, I guess so. We can go to my tent if you want." Janice answered as she led the way outside the records tent.

The trip to Janice's tent was quite. Both women were absorbed in their own thoughts, and neither felt like making idle conversation. Janice thought she had a good idea of what Julie wanted to discuss, the relationship between the camp secretary and Dr. Stafford was beginning to heat up. The Archeologist assumed that they would be discussing Paul.

Julie was pondering how to broach the topic she had intended to advise Janice on. That of UST. It was obvious to Julie, Paul (well, maybe not Paul) and Roger that both Melinda and Janice were suffering from it. Though whether it was over each other remained to be seen. They could both just be incredibly horny. She also could have been misreading the signals, but she doubted it. Something deep inside her was telling her that this time, it was different.

They ended up seated in Janice's tent with one of them on the bed, and the other at the desk. They set in silence for a few moments while each one thought of and discarded possible ways to begin the conversation. Janice leaned back on her bed and took the initiative.

"So, Julie, what's going on?"

"Uh, well, I really don't know how to start this..." She trailed off and lit a cigarette to hid her awkwardness with the topic. Janice sighed and lit a cigar.

"Julie?" Janice tried to get her friend's attention after moments passed with no other sounds in the tent other than the exhaling of smoke.

"Sorry, Jan, I guess I wondered off there for a moment. We've known one another for how long now?" The blonde asked.

"Longer than I can remember." Janice answered getting annoyed with the beating around the bush. "Look, Curly, I think I know what this is about."

"You do?" Julie raised her eyebrows in question. She thought this would take the petite Archeologist by surprise. "What do you know?"

"Its kinda obvious. You and Paul have hit it off extremely well." Julie made as if to interrupt, but Janice kept on going. "I love you both dearly, and if you're worried I might be jealous or anything, don't be. I'm happy for you both. Honestly I am. Just don't try to make me wear a dress to the wedding." She chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of it, but Janice, about Mel..."

"Melinda Pappas may be jealous a little, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. She hasn't known Paul all that long. I'm sure she'll get over it." Janice got out of bed and motioned to the front of the tent. "Now, let's get back to work. Shall we?" She extended an arm to Julie.

"But Janice, what about you?"

"What about me?" The Archeologist was confused by the turn in conversation.

"I mean, you can't do all this alone." Julie took her hand and stared her friend in the eye. "Honey, I'm worried about you. Solitaire is not a good game to play all the time."

"Thanks for the concern, Curly, but really, I'm fine. Happy even." The shorter woman shrugged. "Besides, I'm not alone. I do have friends you know. You are even one of them." Julie smiled sadly. She knew Janice was right, but she still felt she had to try.

"I know, but Janice..."

"Its fine. I'm fine. Let's leave it at that ok? Now let's get out of here before Paul thinks I've seduced you." Janice smiled as she deftly avoided the topic and started toward the tent opening.

"Well, he does have good reason to think that. You are a charmer when you want to be, Janice Covington." Julie laughed and headed out behind her friend.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't even try it a second time. Although it did work once."

"Yeah, but Janice we were only children. You were what, 16 and I was 18?" They both smiled at the memory of their long ago tryst. It was after the death of Julie's mother. Their combined tears had led to one night of misery turned to fumbling passion. It had only happened that once, and neither one of them regretted the act, denied it, nor tried to continue it. Even though Julie sometimes wondered if it would be better now that Janice had more practice. The closest they had came to it was after Harry Covington's death. Julie could now say that Janice was one hell of a kisser, but that was all.

"I think so. You were right. We're much better as friends. Paul's a lucky guy, and you're a lucky girl." Janice picked up her pace a bit before adding one last comment. "He's pretty good too you know. For a guy." At that she took off running. Julie was right behind her.

Janice made it all the way to the stream before Julie tackled her. Soon both women looked like dirty, half drowned rats. Their screams of mock outrage and laughter could be heard echoing through out the dig site.

***

Melinda, like most of the others in the camp had heard the screams as Julie and Janice ended up in the stream. She had gone to investigate, but soon realized her assistance was not needed. So she watched the two old friends frolic a bit before returning to her tent.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was jealous. Not of Julie really. She was well aware that the two half drowned rats were nothing more than friends, but she envied that friendship. She had began to realize that she wanted that type of bond with Janice, and it depressed her that someone else had been there before her.

It wasn't until she tried to get back to work that she realized she was jealous of Janice and Julie's relationship for more than Janice. She never had that feeling of freedom both women seemed to take for granted. They laughed, drank beer, played poker, did whatever they felt like they wanted to. I bet they bed whoever they want whenever they want, the Southerner thought a little ruefully causing herself to blush. Her experience with sex was limited to maybe three nights of fumbling with Jason. She still didn't understand the attraction so many had for physical acts of passion.

Her mother and grandmother had kept her under strict control while she was growing up. She wasn't allowed to do anything that failed to meet their approval. Melinda Pappas had a lonely childhood as a result. Obviously, they didn't. She thought about the Archeologist and the Secretary. Bet they caused all sorts of trouble. Yes, Melinda was envious of their freedom both past and present. The same way she was envious of her brother, for the same reason.

Visions of Janice as a child soared through the Southerner's mind. Her imagination compared her's with Janice's in various situations. Placing them both in Melinda's memories, she saw Janice defy the Southern Matrons, and herself cower in front of them. The edges of the visions were blurred, as if someone else were showing her these things, or trying to stop her from seeing them. Abruptly they stopped.

You aren't under anyone's control now, you know.' A voice said into Melinda's mind. You have gained your freedom. Let go of the past and embrace the present. You'll never live until you do.'

Melinda jerked out of her bed wondering just when she had fallen asleep. My goodness, what did that dream mean? With each second the dream faded back from her awareness, but the voice stayed. That voice, it was so like Janice, only softer somehow. Gentle.

Melinda put her head in her hands and sat that way for a long few minutes. Finally she decided the heat was getting to her mental state, and resolved to dress more for the climate again. No matter what her upbringing had imprinted on her.

With that in mind, she collected the notes she had made on one of the Scrolls, and went to go find Dr. Janice Covington.

***

Janice had just changed out of her now filthy clothes and was reaching for a cleaner undershirt when someone cleared their throat in front of her tent.

Damn tents. No doors to knock on. She looked down at the pile of clothes at her feet and grimaced. Julie, it was fun, but now I've really got to do laundry. Maybe I can send a few of the grad students into the village Monday to have it done.

"Come in," Janice yelled to the silhouette outside her tent as she put on the white cotton t-shirt and grabbed for a more decent shirt to wear over it. Melinda walked in just as Janice had located one.

Oh, my. Melinda thought as she walked in on Janice. The Archeologist was wearing a pair of khaki pants that had yet to be buttoned, and a plain white men's undershirt, no sock, boots or anything else. Her strawberry blonde hair had been washed but not dried and was pushed back behind her ears. God, she looks great like that, and so young. The Southerner flushed.

Janice, who had forgotten that Mel wanted to talk to her after the translator had reviewed the Scrolls, just stood there for a moment pondering the look in Mel's eyes. Is that look what I think it is? She asked herself before regaining her senses. She turned around, tucked in the t-shirt into her pants, and fastened them. Nah, it can't be, can it?

"Well, Ms. Pappas, what can I do for you?" She asked turning back around to find Melinda staring at the floor.

"Well, I thought that maybe you wanted to read the notes I've made on the Scroll I've been working on." Melinda shyly looked up at Janice and handed her the notebook. Janice dropped her shirt on the bed and took the notebook from Mel's hands.

"Thanks, here have a seat," Janice cleared the papers off her desk chair and indicated that Mel should sit there. The Archeologist stared at the notes in her hand a minute before looking at Mel. "Sit down, really, I don't bite. At least not too hard." She smiled at Melinda until she realized the joke fell flat.

"Maybe I should just let you read over those. We can discuss them when you're finished." Mel had no idea why she was suddenly shy. Janice had on more clothes than those pictures she had found in her brother's room once a long time ago. She had to admit that the Archeologist looked better than those Frenchwomen in the photos, and she shaved too. That was a big plus. It was just that the tank style shirt accented the younger woman's curves, and Mel had to admit, that she look sexy disheveled. The Southerner blushed again.

"Sure, if that's what you want." Janice told her. She was slightly confused about the Southerner's reaction. Maybe there's something in the Scrolls. "Listen, I'll find you when I'm done looking these over. Does that sound ok?"

Melinda nodded and silently left the tent. It wasn't until Janice sat down on her bed to read that she realized how she had been dressed when the Southerner had entered the tent.

"Now, that was an odd reaction," She said to herself. "You'd think she'd never seen anyone half dressed before." The blonde Archeologist shook her head and started to read the understated yet neat handwriting of the dig's translator.

The story in the most recently translated Scroll turned out to be the story of the Warrior and Bard's first meeting with a god. Morpheus, the ancient god of dreams. It was obviously written sometime after the actual event had occurred. Although how much time had passed was not certain.

"This was probably written after Gabrielle decided to become a Bard," Janice muttered aloud.

The Scroll was written from an uninterested third party point of view, but the language used suggested that Gabrielle was the author. She rarely made mention of herself, but Janice felt a grudging respect grow for her ancestor. According to the Scroll, the Bard (who referred to herself as either Xena's young companion, which made Janice raise an eyebrow at the implied relationship, or as the would be bride of the Dreamworker) had managed to keep herself alive and her blood innocence intact long enough to be rescued. It sounded like it was quite a feat, and the young woman had accomplished it very well. Janice was impressed.

Janice rested the notebook on her knee and thought about the tale. She wondered if Gabrielle had really been that humble or if she had written that Scroll before she had been associated with Xena for a long period of time. It’s a shame we know so little about her. Janice thought. After all, Boswell, the man who recorded Ben Johnson's life had his own biography. Homer had his, sort of. At least, he can be proven to have existed outside of spirit saying so She wasn't sure if her colleagues at the university would accept Xena's word of her friend's existence as fact since Xena was roughly 2,000 years dead.

All in all, Janice thought it was a good story and a believable one for her colleagues. The god in question never appeared, and it read like a ancient cult acting out a ritual. The supernatural overtones of the dreamscape would be over looked as creative metaphor by those that either refused to believe or had not been trapped in a tomb with Ares. Ares had turned Janice into a believer of the so called supernatural real fast.

The young Archeologist had first begun searching for the Scrolls to prove her father right. That had been a little over two years ago. She had just gotten her doctorate and was on a dig in Mexico when word of her father's death had reached her. She had made a promise at his grave side in Cairo that she would continue his work and realize his dreams for him. It took her three months to find a replacement for herself at the Mexican dig, and to arrange for university funding to take over her father's dig in southern Macedonia, with herself as the director of course. She tried to keep everything above suspicion, for she was, like her long dead ancestor, an honest, honorable person with a very persuasive will. The university had agreed and Janice stepped into her new position.

It wasn't until they had stumbled onto Ares's tomb that Janice had begun to wonder about the identity of the Scrolls' author. It wasn't until Xena possessed Mel that Janice saw Gabrielle as something more than a tag along. She had seen it in the Warrior's eyes (Mel's eyes as...never mind) as she told the story of Gabrielle. Xena had obviously respected and cared for her friend. To Janice that translated as the Bard was worthy of admiration. From all she knew about Xena, the Warrior didn't suffer fools (except for Joxer) and had very little patience (even with Joxer).

The conversation with Xena had made Janice curious about Gabrielle. Two years after assuming her father's work, Dr. Janice Covington had turned the search for the Scrolls into her own. Oh, she'd admit that she was half in love with Xena, which was why Melinda made her so uncomfortable, but now the search was to know her family, to know her history, to learn about her so-far-removed-I'm-not-sure-you-can-call-her-that grandmother.

"Its about time," A low voice sounded in her ear. "You finally figured part of it out. Congratulations, I won the bet. The next part is easier if you'll let it be." The voice was soft and melodic with a slight accent to it that sounded Australian for some reason.

Janice jumped out of bed and looked around her empty tent. "Some dream," She mumbled as she picked up the notebook from its current resting place on the floor. She tried not to think about the dream, which involved the Warrior, Mel, the Bard and herself. She sat back down on the bed for a moment before making up her mind to go find the Southerner.

"Maybe Mel can shed more light on Gabrielle," Janice told herself. She was aware of the perfectionist side of the Southerner. Mel would translate a rough copy of a Scroll, refine it, proof it, set it aside and work on another before going back to the previous one for a final proofreading. It was a slow process, but Janice felt it was worth it. She hadn't found any errors that first time when she had checked the translation to the original. Not that she would, Mel was infinitely better as a translator than Janice was. So, the Archeologist reasoned that Mel would have rough translations for at least two or three different Scrolls.

With that in mind, Janice grabbed her hat, lit a cigar, and headed out to find Melinda. She made it five feet outside her tent before rushing back inside, pulling on the other shirt she had abandoned hours previous, and then resumed her quest.

The distant thunder sounded suspiciously like laughter. It was the Universe enjoying its game.

***

After leaving the Archeologist's tent, Melinda decided she needed to talk to someone about her confusing thoughts and feelings. She had to admit to herself that she was attracted to Janice, but had no idea what, if anything, she should do about it.

She remembered Julie's comments from the night before and thought that she would be a good person to talk to. Mel had always thought women were easier to discuss matters of the heart with, she had found only two exceptions: she had always felt as if she could tell her father anything, and never trusted her mother. That lesson had been learned the hard way.

With the thought of a willing ally in mind, the Southerner began her search for the camp secretary.

***

Julie had been sitting outside under a piece of canvas trading laughs with Paul when she looked up and noticed Melinda walk by. The tall Southerner looked so sad and distraught that Julie pointed her out to her companion then whistled for her attention. Melinda turned, noticed the couple and shyly walked over to join them.

"Well, well, Ms. Pappas, what's the long face for?" Paul asked as Melinda gingerly took a seat on the ground.

"I'm just tired, I guess." She told him. Julie was not convinced that the Southerner was just tired and searched her brain for a way to get Paul to leave without being obvious.

"Why don't we play some more poker this evening?" the blonde woman suggested. She knew Paul loved poker and would volunteer to set up the game.

"That sounds good, but what are we going to bet? I'm all out of change." They pondered that in silence for a minute before Paul had a brainstorm. "How Ôbout we use matches and stuff like that. I'm sure I can get Roger to help me locate some stuff." He stood up and dusted his pants off, excited about the suggestion.

"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe Melinda and I can go to my tent and see what we can find there. How Ôbout you tell Janice to meet us in an hour?" Julie stood up and extended an arm down to Melinda and helped the Southerner stand. They both dusted themselves off and straightened their clothes.

"That sounds like a plan. See ya there." With that, he jogged back to the camp and Melinda followed Julie to the secretary's tent.

They walked in an uneasy silence, but once in side the tent's entrance, Julie motioned for Melinda to sit on the bed, as she took a seat on her trunk.

"Wanna talk about it?" The blonde asked quietly.

"I'm not sure if I can. I'm just so confused about everything."

"You're attracted to Janice aren't you?" Julie was nothing if not blunt. Melinda nodded and stared at the floor. "Is this the first time you've been attracted to a woman?" She thought that was what caused the taller woman's discomfort. Finding a difference like that, especially in someone with Mel's upbringing, was often tough for someone to face within themselves.

"It's..." Melinda brushed a tear off her cheek. "The first time I've ever really been attracted to anyone." She told Julie in a subdued voice.

"So, you've never been with a woman, sexually?" At Melinda's shake of negativity, Julie continued. "Have you ever been with a man?" Melinda nodded again, still looking at the floor. "Were you attracted to him?" God, getting this woman to open up is tougher than getting Janice too. At least Jan will spill everything once prodded long enough. She thought to herself.

"I was sorta engaged to be married before his ship went down." Melinda took a deep breath before continuing. "My mother was going to make us get married. I had been datin' him for about four years, just to keep them quite. He was a friend, and I loved him, but I was never in love with him. Never attracted to him, never enjoyed it." She was crying openly now, so Julie got up and held her.

"When my daddy died, he told me to come here and meet Janice, but I never really knew why until now. I think I'm falling in love with her, and I don't know what to do about. I don't know what to do." Julie just held her until the tears had run themselves dry and Melinda was ready to listen to reason.

"Well, that's a tough one. Lucky for you, Janice is...," She stopped to find a way to put it delicately, "She does appreciate the female form. She's more than worth any effort. I think you need to decide what you want. If you want her, you'll have to catch her. She won't chase you."

"Why not?" The Southerner asked as she unwound herself from Julie's embrace. She had been worried that Janice would be upset or offended. Or worse, not interested in her. That would hurt.

"She respects you." Came the reassuring response. "Janice won't try anything with someone she respects, unless they give her a clear signal to go ahead."

"Did you...are you...have you..."

"Yes," Julie cut her off "Once, a long time ago. And almost again two years ago, but we're better as friends. Janice... we..." She sighed. "I wish that...sometimes I wish it could be different, but I'm just not that way. Paul's more my type."

"Why not two years ago? What happened?" Melinda was curious despite herself.

"She passed out." A rueful chuckle accompanied that statement. "It was right after her daddy died, well, right after the memorial in Cairo. We went out and got completely drunk. I held her as she cried, and one thing started to lead to another. I did learn that she has become one hell of a kisser, even intoxicated." Melinda blushed and wiped the tear stains from her face.

"Um, don't you think maybe we should go join the others?" Julie asked standing up and heading out the tent.

"Julie," Melinda came up behind her and reached for her arm. "Thank you for that. I really needed someone to..." The camp secretary cut her off by giving her a hug. The startled Mel returned it.

"It was my pleasure," The blonde told her. "Now, go get cleaned up. I'll meet you in the main tent."

The two women parted ways. Neither one saw Janice Covington standing behind them.

***

Janice had fruitless searched the area around Mel's tent and the records tent before running into Paul. He had just returned from putting all the matches and rocks he had collected into little piles on the Round Table.

"Hey, there, boss. What do you say we play some poker tonight. We're gonna bet with something other than money." The blond man was enthusiastic about the planned game.

"Sure, Paul, that sounds great. Have you seen Mel anywhere?" Janice would not admit that she was concerned, but she was.

"Yeah, she went off with Julie. I think they wanted to be alone for a few minutes." Paul didn't see the curious look that crossed his friend's face. "Listen we're supposed to meet in about ten minutes. See ya there?"

"Yeah, sure. Say Paul, when was it you last saw those two?"

"Um, about an hour ago why?"

"I was just looking for Mel. Had a question about one of the Scrolls. That's all." She turned in the direction of her childhood friend's tent and called back over her shoulder that she would see him at the game.

The walk to Julie's tent was a short one, and when she got there, she saw Julie stride out of the tent looking slightly rumpled. Melinda followed her a moment later. It was obvious to Janice that Mel had been crying. As she watched the two women hug and listened to their conversation, she became confused.

That didn't really sound the way I took it? Did it? The Archeologist thought as she headed toward her tent. She thought best while she moved. Nah, Melinda probably cried out her homesickness on Julie's shoulder. That's all.

Janice was surprised by a sudden feeling of jealousy over that thought. And it had nothing to do with her childhood friend. That really surprised her. She ducked back inside her tent to think about it.

"Ok, I know I'm attracted to Mel, I mean really, who wouldn't be? But jealous over her crying on Julie's shoulder? Why? I mean, I like her..." Janice was pacing around her tent as she muttered her thoughts aloud. She didn't hear Roger enter. She didn't see him until she walked into him. "I know I like her...oomph."

"You need to pay a little more attention, little one. Are you alright?" The big man asked, rubbing his chest where Janice had collided with it.

"Yeah, I think so," She answered rubbing her nose. "What are you wearing under that? Armor?"

"Nah, chain mail. Its easier to conceal. You're about to miss the poker game. We're all waiting for you." He advised her.

"Go ahead and start. I'll be there in a minute. I hafta make sure you didn't kill my nose." She shooed him out.

"I'm sure its fine. See ya there," He chucked and turned to leave. "Oh, yeah, Janice? I'm glad you figured it out." He left before she could reply.

"Figured what out? That I like Mel, or that his chest is as hard as his head?" That got her started on another circuit. "I like her and I'm attracted to her. What am I going to do about it? Guess I could find out how she feels. Or I could just go for broke and let her know. What would Gabrielle do?" She wondered as she followed the trail from her tent to the poker game.

Little did she know, that the situation between her and Melinda was still causing the Universe to chuckle. Had she known, then she would have understood why the thunder she kept hearing never got any closer. Janice would also have benefited from asking what Xena would have done, ok, on second thought, no she would not have. The Bard had plotted the capture of the Warrior's heart. Janice was right to ask what her ancestor would have done.

In the Fields, the Bard got pinched for laughing at that. Everyone else got a glare. Warriors are a touchy lot. Even long dead ones.

***

When Janice entered the tent she noticed that everyone was in the same position they were in the night before. She again took a seat next to Melinda. This time, she was a little nervous. She had decided to approach the Southerner after the game to test the waters. She wanted to see where she stood before anything else.

The game was already in full swing, so she just sat back and waited for the hand to be played out. Sitting in front of her was a pile of rocks, a pile of matches, and a pile of chipped pottery. She pondered the pottery for a moment before she recognized it. It was what was left of the vases Smythe's men had broken when they attacked Mel three months ago. She had forgotten that an industrious undergrad had put all the broken pieces in a box. He wanted to see if he could put them back together. Janice had told him that he had a severe obsession with Humpty Dumpty.

"Um, Janice?" Mel felt she was taking a risk by calling the Archeologist by her first name. She was encouraged when Janice turned greenish blue eyes her way and didn't protest. "Can you tell me what I should do here?"

Janice looked around and saw no protest before she nodded and scooted her chair closer to Mel's.

"Let's see what you have." Janice leaned closer to peer at the cards and almost closed her eyes as her pupil's perfume hit her. It was a light fragrance, kinda like fresh roses and vanilla. For some reason, she had been expecting jasmine and leather with the faint sent of horse. It was disconcerting.

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, She noticed that Mel had the most elusive of all hands. A Royal flush in hearts. Not wanting her companions at the table to hear, she leaned even closer to whisper in Melinda's ear. Of course being that close to the translator was a secondary reason. Well, maybe it was the other way around.

"You should hold what you have there. Its an unbeatable hand. Keep a straight face and bet whatever they ask you to." She advised. It took a minute for Mel to understand what she had said. Janice's close proximity was a little distracting, as was the warm breath that tickled her ear.

"Have you ever had one of these?" She whispered back. Causing Janice to entertain several lewd thoughts about the translator. She just shook her head and backed off to a more respectable distance.

The others took their cards and looked at Mel in suspicion when she declined to draw any others. They understood why five minutes later when she won the pot and Janice patted her on the back. The Archeologist had a smile on her face, and Mel returned it when she looked up. For a minute, neither woman could speak. Roger broke the moment when he handed the cards to Janice and explained what each pile represented monetarily.

She looked around and saw understanding smiles on her friends' faces. Well, not Paul's he was a little oblivious about the whole thing.

"What do you say? Seven card stud?" She began dealing before they could answer.

The evening went along almost like the previous one. They drank coffee instead of beer, none of them were really big drinkers. They only indulged on occasion, and the monthly poker game was one of the few occasions they agreed warranted it. Paul still didn't win that much, but Melinda did. Between her and Roger, the others lost their rocks. Nobody complained, not even Janice. They just wanted another evening of fun and companionship. It was hard to find anything else to do in west of nowhere.

Once again, Melinda left before the last hand. The rest voted Roger the clean up man since he won, and since the only things to put up were the cards and substitution betting chips. They all put away their own coffee mugs. Most were taken back to the tents for the evening.

Janice went to Mel's tent after she had lit a cigar for courage. It gave her something to occupy her hands with. She used a cigar as a tool of distraction.

To her surprise, the Southerner was not in her tent. Janice, losing courage, went back to her own.

She had just gotten into bed and fallen asleep when she had a nightmare. According to her watch, only half an hour had passed since she left the poker game. She was filled with an undeniable urge to find Melinda. The urge was so strong that Janice only slipped on a pair of pants, her boots, and threw her jacket on over her t-shirt before she was outside her tent.

Some compulsion led her to the eastern part of the dig. It was an area as yet untouched by the diggers, and looked unpromising. Janice saw her quarry sitting on a little rise staring at the moon.

***

After leaving the poker game, Mel decided to walk around the camp a little. She needed to work things out in her head, and thought the peace and quiet of the dig site would help. She sat down on a little rise overlooking the eastern part of the dig and stared at the stars.

Wonder if they ever saw them like this? If they ever had time to just stop and stare at the stars? She wondered about the ancient Warrior and Bard. Nothing she had read about in the Scrolls so far had said much about their private lives. So far most of them had been about the first year of their acquaintance, and they really didn't even seem to be friends. Just companions without the company.

Kinda like me and Janice. I guess they grew closer over time. Bet we can too, we have so far. She assured herself, after all, things had been warming up between them over the past few days. Maybe when we find more Scrolls, we'll learn more about their lives outside Xena's heroic deeds. Melinda shared Janice's view that there were more Scrolls out there to be found. They just had to know where to look. She believed that the Warrior and the Bard had several years together, and that the Bard had written more than just the nineteen Scrolls they had found. Well, twenty one if you count the two that went with Jack. Three of those not counted in the nineteen were continuations of other Scrolls, and two more contained two stories each, those like the Marcus one were short and distant. That made for a total of 23 stories, twenty one of which they had, and ten of which she had fully translated. Who knew what she would find in the others.

Melinda was so deep in thought over the Scrolls, having cowarded out and not given much consideration to the reason she was on the ridge, that she didn't hear Janice approach.

"Nice night, mind if I join you?" She asked as she extinguished her cigar under her heel. It gave her something to do while she waited on Mel's answer.

"Sure, I mean no, um..please, have a seat." Seeing Dr. Janice Covington standing in the moonlight with only a t-shirt under her jacket and shyly staring at the ground, gave Melinda the answer she was looking for. Yes, she wanted the woman before her, she loved her, she was attracted to her, and she would fight for it.

"Thanks," Janice sat down beside the Southerner. She felt the change in the air flow around them and realized that the thunder she had been hearing all day was gone. The Universe was holding its breath.

"So, what are doing out here?" Melinda asked politely. Her heart was beating so hard that she would have sworn the Turkish forces could hear it.

"I came out to find you." It was said quietly, so quietly that Melinda almost didn't hear it, but then super hearing ran in her family.

"Did you have a question about the Scrolls?" She wanted a negative answer. She really wanted a negative answer.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?" Now Janice was nervous.

"Yeah, that's fine. Great. Its nice. What do you want to talk about?" Babbling didn't run in Melinda's family, but she was certainly doing that.

"Are you, uh, happy here, Mel?" The Archeologist asked her. Please say yes, please.

"I guess so. I'm not unhappy" At least not now.

"But are you happy?" Janice stressed. Seeing Melinda's shrug she continued. "What would make you happy?"

"You." It was a whisper. Janice barely heard it, and could have ignored it if she wanted to. She really didn't want to.

"I was hoping you would say something like that." The Archeologist felt the wind stir around them as the Universe sighed. "I've begun to like you a great deal. I don't want you to go anywhere like back home. Unless you want to, I mean."

"No. I like it right here. I'm not going to leave you Janice." Melinda promised. "We go together." It was a test. She wanted to see if Janice meant the same thing she did by together.

"Together." Janice reaffirmed. The Archeologist paused for a moment and then leaned over and kissed a startled Mel. "Was that alright? You're not going to flip or anything are you?"

"I'm fine. I don't think could do a flip if I tried." Mel quipped. This time she leaned in, Janice met her half way. They took their time, Janice kept all contact light. She didn't want to frighten Mel by going too fast.

"We have all the time in the world, right?" She asked. Mel, being a little short of breath, nodded. "Then let's take it slow and easy. Together." She promised again.

"Together." Melinda echoed. "Julie was right."

"How so?" Janice was confused by the sudden change in conversation.

"You are one great kisser." Melinda had the distinct thrill of seeing Janice blush for a change.

Janice stood up and brought Mel along with her. "Why don't we go shopping on Monday. We can take off and go to one of the larger villages. And I can get my laundry done."

"That sounds good." Mel stood up to her full height, and then took advantage of it by leaning down and kissing Janice. "Maybe we should go back and go to bed." She blushed again at Janice's upraised eyebrow. It had taken centuries before anyone in her family could do it, and Janice, although she didn't know that, wasn't going to let the skill go to waste.

"I know, separate tents. Separate beds. Shared dreams." Janice took Mel's hand and led her back to the camp.

Together. They both thought.

In the Fields, certain spirits were giving one another high fives, while two were claiming their rewards from each other. The Universe sighed again. The Fates warned it against sighing. That's how comets collide. It replied that this time, two hearts did. Two souls were rejoined. Together.

end

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #mel/janice #mel/janice fanfiction #author: blue dragon #mature #femslash #fanfiction

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alwaysd2 · 3 years

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me, frying tempura vegetables:

my mother: Oh you're frying the yams first! That's smart, frying it by the order of how long they take to cook!

me, frying yams first because I like yams the most: ...yes

#I also didn't want to prepare the shrimp so I told my mother I was going to fry the veggies first...#And had her prepare the shrimp while I fried...to 'save time'#Let the nerd talk

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hkbingo2000 · 5 years

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1) 家電用品Household Appliance

飯鍋Cooking pot/Rice cooker The cooking pot is a crafting station used to make the Bowl of Soup. 壓力鍋Pressure cooker You use a pressure cooker to save lots of time and energy cooking delicious food. 燉鍋Stew pot Stewpot is often used to cook stew meat. 電水壺Electric kettle I don't know how I ever lived without an electric kettle. 電磁爐Induction cooker oven The basic difference between an induction cooker oven and an oven is that they are used for different types of cooking. 烤箱 Oven Place the cake in the oven at 200°C. 抽油煙機 Extractor hood / range hood An extractor hood or range hood is a device containing a mechanical fan that hangs above the stove or cooktop in the kitchen. 消毒碗櫃Disinfect cupboard The utility model relates to a cupboard with damp proofing and disinfecting functions. 冰箱 Refrigerator/ Fridge Don't forget to put the milk back in the fridge. Top

2) 食材處理Process Ingredients 放入冰箱冷凍Chill Chilled foods, for reasons of safety or quality, are designed to be stored at refrigeration temperatures at or below 8ºC. 冷凍 Freeze Freeze dried vegetables are often found in food for backpackers, hunters, the military, etc. 解凍 Defrost Defrost the chicken thoroughly before cooking. 水漂洗 Rinse First apply shampoo to hair and then rinse thoroughly. 削 Shave Shaved ice is a large family of ice-based dessert made of fine shavings of ice or finely crushed ice and sweet condiments or syrups. 剝皮 Peel We should be eating our fruit and vegetable peel instead of throwing it away, experts say. 去鱗 Scale Mahalo cooking expert Eric Crowley shows you how to properly scale a fish. 去核 Core Core an apple and make apple rings with just a knife. 切除不要的部分Trim Trim off the leafy ends of the vegetable before cooking. 填裝Stuff He stuffs dumplings with meat sauce. 倒入Pour Pour the honey into the bowl and mix it thoroughly with the other ingredients. 瀝乾 Drain Drain off any liquid that is left in the rice. 瀝出 Strain Pour the sauce into a sieve or strainer and strain back into your saucepan.

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3) 切片處理 Cutting

切 Chop Chop up the onions and carrots roughly. 切成小塊Cube Cutting cheese into little cubes creates morsels just the right size for snacking or to use in salads and soups. 切丁 Dice Peel and dice the potatoes. 切片 Fillet fillet of beef 切薄片Slice Slice the mushrooms thinly and fry in butter. 切成細絲 Julienne Julienne-cut vegetables is just a fancy way of saying very skinnily-cut vegetables. 切成碎末 Mince Mince two pounds of chicken finely. 切碎 Shred Shred the lettuce and arrange it around the edge of the dish. 磨成絲或粉狀Grate grated cheese 絞Grind Shall I grind a little black pepper over your pizza? Top

4) 醃製處理 Marinate

攪拌 Stir Stir the egg yolks into the mixture. 翻面 Turn over/Flip Fried eggs are usually cooked without turning over. 調味 Season Drain the rice, stir in the salmon and season to taste, so that it has the taste you like. 醃泡 Marinate She marinates pork in vinegar and white wine. 浸泡Soak Leave the beans to soak overnight. 醃漬Pickle Grandmother knew how to pickle cucumbers. 搾Squeeze Cut the lemon in half and squeeze the juice into the bowl. 搗碎 Mash Mash the potatoes and then mix in the butter and herbs. 壓碎 Crush Add three cloves of crushed garlic. 弄成醬狀Puree Puree the strawberries in the liquidizer and add the lightly whipped cream. 裹上麵包粉 Bread She breaded the pork chop before frying it. 勾芡Thicken Thicken the sauce with a little flour. 撇去液體表面的漂浮物 Skim Skim the grease from a soup. 篩Sift When the cake is cooked, sift some icing sugar over the top of it. 打到起泡Beat To make an omelette you must first beat the eggs. 發泡Whip Could you whip the cream for me? 使混合Blend Blend the egg yoke and butter. 攪打Fold Fold whipped cream into custard 揉捏Knead Knead the dough until smooth. Top

5) 烹調方式 Cooking Methods

烹調 Cook Let the fish cook for half an hour before you add the wine. 水煮 Boil I've boiled some potatoes for dinner. 川燙 Blanch He blanches a tomato to peel its skin. 熬煮 Braise Once you learn the basics of how to braise meat, you'll be able to make braised beef. 滾煮 Poach Poached eggs can be eaten as they are, on salads or bread or made into eggs Benedict. 炒煮出水分 Sweat When sweating onions or mushrooms, you need to put a lid over the pan in which you are frying them in order to trap the condensation. 炒 Fry A basic recipe for fried rice is load up with meat and vegetables. 煎炒 Pan-fry Pan-frying beef is one of the quickest and easiest ways to prepare meat. 快炒 Stir-fry A quick stir-fry is one of the fastest, easiest, tastiest ways to make a last-minute vegetable side dish to suit any meal. 油炸 Deep-fry Deep frying a turkey may sound like a strange concept, but trust me, it doesn't come out like you'd think. 裹粉油炸 Fritter Banana fritters are good served with melted red current jelly, or toffee sauce. 切碎後再炒 Hash Hash Brown Potatoes are easy and delicious. 嫩煎 Saute Saute the shrimp 5 to 7 minutes, until they turn pink, while turning the shrimp over to cook them on both sides. 煎至金黃色 Brown Transfer to oven and roast chicken, turning occasionally, until golden brown, about 35 minutes. 炭火燒烤 Barbecue Their traditional sausages are delicious grilled or barbecued. 火烤 Grill Dad was grilling chicken in the back yard. 煎烤 Roast He roasts a chicken at 300 degrees for an hour. 以武火烤 Broil They broiled a turkey over charcoal. 煙燻 Smoke She had champagne and smoked salmon sandwiches at her birthday party. 燉 Stew This traditional stewed chicken dish begins with a browned, cut up chicken, that is slow cooked in a roux based gravy. 蒸Steam When I go home to visit my Mom, I always ask for this dish, Chinese Steamed Fish. 塗油脂潤滑Grease Grease the tins well before adding the cake mixture. 預熱Preheat Preheat the oven to 180°C. 凝固成形Mold Mold mousse in the fridge Top

6) 最後裝飾 Garnishment 搭配Garnish Garnish the dish with parsley before serving. 裹上糖衣Frost Leave the cake to cool before frosting it. 淋上糖漿Glaze Glazed carrots with honey. 淋醬汁Baste Baste the turkey at regular intervals. 浸泡醬汁Dip Dip the fish in the batter, then drop it into the hot oil. 塗Spread Spread bread with butter 灑Sprinkle Sprinkle a few herbs on the pizza. 加Add Beat the butter and sugar together and slowly add the eggs.

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blakpirl · 5 years

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Ireland 2019

(Long post ahead)

I don’t want to miss a memory of my first Euro Trip, which is why I have to harness my old self to create this blog. The last time I properly wrote something this is ‘I think’ about a trip to Georgia in 2017. I though hope I can give justice this time despite the noise in my head. However, this Euro nature trip has given a lot of clarity and steadiness to my mental/emotional being (haha. hope it lingers).

I consider myself as a frugal person. For many years, I held back to any out-of-the-country vacations because I feel like I can save the budget for something else. Nevertheless, it is also true that LIFE IS SHORT, if you have the means, you have to go for it, and there is no need to be guilty in treating yourself the peace you deserve. Therefore, with a little push from our cousins, we went for our first Euro Trip in the country of IRELAND.

This might be a lengthy page but if you are interested enough, you can stick around. If not, no need to feel bad, this page is mainly for my future self anyways. :)

Visa Processing

As I am a Filipino citizen, I have to obtain an Irish tourist visa to be able to tour Ireland. Luckily, our visa processing went stress-free and quick. You have to prepare AED 400 per person for the visa. Just in bear in mind, that the amount is NOT refundable even if the Irish Embassy rejects your application. Therefore, I recommend you to prepare all the necessary documents and have a little faith, and oh apply early in case of a long queue of applicants.

Ticket

By the help of our cousins whom we were traveling with, we were able to secure a nice affordable plane ticket to Ireland. However, you can purchase discounted tickets by booking ahead or reserving on a low season. We just got lucky someone got our back. :)

Arriving in Ireland

We arrived in Dublin in an August month, which is supposedly summer season. However, as they say, Irish weather is unpredictable. Even if the forecast says it’s sunny, a small umbrella might become handy anytime. The Irish summer weather is already the winter-like feel in UAE so this has become an inside joke for us. Our lovely host picked us up from the airport and we headed directly to the county of Bray.

Looking through the bus window, the country’s emphasis on nature is undeniable. There is no bore staring at the delightful and misty trees and greens of the beautiful country. Additional points on placing designated spaces in the bus for baby buggy (their term for stroller), wheelchairs and elderly passengers, so you can tell where to settle.

We have reached the host’s apartment around 7PM and the sun is still astonishingly high up.

We prepared for dinner, our host prepared a nice beef marrow stew (or bulalo!) perfect for the nice cold weather. :)

DAY ONE:

It was a pleasant sunny day (but of course it will rain – Irish weather!) and we walked along the streets of the County Bray heading to what they call the Bray Head. We walked pass the striking brick structures, picturesque old European streets and nice smell of freshly baked bread from the bakery.

Stroll with this little angel

Me, my husband and Zannah

We stopped by the seafront to feed the Swans and few other sea birds where I thought will eat my hand as well. The jingle of seagulls refreshes my inner senses.

Bunch of swans and seagulls feasting

We then walked straight to the Bray Head. We were just in the ¼ of the hill but the view already astounded me! We cannot miss posing to this beaut!

me and husband appreciating nature’s magnificence

emote-emote lang

emote emote jpn

the gang with the kiddos

We handpicked blackberries along the way. We took pictures of almost all trees, flowers, or rocks we spotted. However, the photos we took were an understatement of its actual splendor.

We descended from the hill to grab some lunch. Though we were not able to reach the top, it was still worth it! Something to look forward next time. :)

Super meaty pizza. And the servings here is not bad!

fried sweet potato. in short, kamote!

We boarded the train to Dublin to wander the capital city. This is where I saw flocks of people on the street. Compared to Bray, Dublin is busier but it has its unique beauty of course. We did a slight exploration. We passed by different architectural edifices, monuments, and stores. We bought souvenirs and beers along the way!

O'Connell Monument

goofing around in front of dublin central post office (post office not seen in pic)

the crossroads

We have gone back to Bray after the city tour. Our host arranged Bile-flavored goat soup (Papaitan!) and crispy fried deer for dinner. It is my first time to taste deer meat, it really is marvelous, and the host cooks fantastic too!

crispy fried deer meat

papaitan!

DAY TWO! – Dublin City Tour and Guinness Store House Tour

We woke up from a very comfortable sleep and proceeded to the city of Dublin for the lovely city tour. Below were the few attractions we saw while doing the tour.

St Patrick’s Cathedral

Built in honor of Ireland’s patron saint, St Patrick’s Cathedral is built on top of a site said to be where St Patrick would baptize new converts to Christianity. With over two hundred religious relics housed within its walls, it traces Ireland’s religious past through the years and is a stunning architectural site with vibrant stained glass windows, an impressive altar and cathedral tower. © https://blog.dublinpass.com

Jeanie Johnston Tallship and Famine Museum

Famine and immigration are a key part of Ireland’s history, defining the 19th century and shaping the future of Irish descendants. The Jeanie Johnston Tallship, a mid-1800s wooden ship that transported Irish immigrants to Quebec, New York and Baltimore, has been restored to its former glory and transformed into an exploration of Ireland’s past through its rich exhibits. © https://blog.dublinpass.com

Trinity College Dublin

Not only is this institution one of the most respected universities in the world, it’s also an important cultural landmark in Dublin. With a stunning library that aches with history, its shelves are lined with thousands of age-old texts including an exhibit dedicated some of Dublin’s most famous illustrated 9th century manuscripts: the Book of Kells and Book of Durrow. © https://blog.dublinpass.com

Below were some places we have seen:

· Ha’penny Bridge

· The Convention Center

· The Samuel Beckett Bridge

· The Aviva Stadium

· The Rotunda Hospital

· Famine Memorial

· Teeling Whiskey Distillery

Of course, not missing an opportunity to drink, we went down to the Guinness Storehouse stop and the guys rejoiced for excitement. We started with a short tour around the storehouse where the process of making the Guinness Beer was briefly illustrated. At the end of the tour, we had the opportunity to pour our ‘almost’ perfect pint of beer where we received a certificate for it! We stayed in the panoramic top floor and enjoyed our beers. It was a bit touristy during our visit, however, we loved the view and beers! Slàinte (translates “good health” or “cheers” in Irish)!

pouring our own pint

Slainte!

After a long day in Dublin, we went back to Bray and indulged in the Bamboo shoot with Shrimp in coconut milk soup our host prepared. Yum!

DAY THREE!

Another day in Ireland and it is time to visit some castles! We planned to go to Malahide Castle and Gardens to spend a family day.

We paced through a charming forestry-like path with lots of various trees, flowers, and greens along the way. I innocently thought that this path is already very majestic but not until we reached the actual garden and castle. We were blessed with a bright, nice day, the sun is up and the clouds were blue and stunning. We straightaway took a snap of the place and pose in front of the castle.

the princess in her garden

Picnic style, we devoured our lunch, coffee, and indulged ourselves in the overwhelming emerald sight and the breath of fresh air. It was like the sensation of sitting in your childhood garden just being calm, happy, satisfied and contented. You have the choice to go inside the castle but we did not opt. You will be toured around the castle though you can’t take photographs inside.

We mostly spent our entire day inside the garden as it is far from another tourist spot. We headed home early and enjoyed some shopping. :)

DAY FOUR!

It is another fine day! We headed to the Powerscourt Estate, House and Gardens to enjoy the No. 3 Garden in the World! Although this day was the gloomiest among all the days of our vacation, on-off rain and shine, still, the sight is captivating. We went through a little uphill walk through the charming town of Enniskerry to reach the gate of the garden. From the estate gate, a scenic, forestry vibe welcomed us while we continued our hike towards the Powerscourt garden entrance.

We kicked off by having our lunch while watching raindrops wash the mystic greens outside the cafe. It was not long enough when the sun shone again for us to wander around the gorgeous landscape. We started walking through the Italian Garden where various statues, fountains, green landscape, and flower gardens reside.

Few more steps through the lotus-filled pond and a little detour to the left will lead you to the majestic Japanese Garden. It is visible by its multi-colored trees, including the Japanese maple trees (with orange or red leaves), bridges and the small temple-figured shade.

Unfortunately, the rain did not permit us to go further to see the Pet Cemetery (few tombstones lined up where former estate families buried their beloved pets), and the tower valley (one tower sticking out from the enormous greens). Luckily, we have covered to best parts. Upon heading home, we have met Kevin (our cab driver). And he led us to the adventure for the next day!

Dinner at bray is a mouth-watering Isdang Paksiw by our beloved host.

DAY FIVE!

One of the most favorite part of the tour is our adventure this day. Our previous cab driver, Kevin, who also is an excellent guide, picked us. We headed to Glendalough, Wicklow.

Before reaching our destination, I cannot help but be amazed by the beautiful sight of County Wicklow. The vast field with several sheep on it, mountain views, humble Irish communities and the flowing group of pine trees gives my soul a fill.

Our first stop is the ever-magnificent Guinness Lake. The lake is situated in the middle of two Wicklow mountains which came from streams from Mountain Rivers. This same lake is used as a set for the famous “Vikings” series.

wild irish heathers blooming on the mountainside

After a few relaxing moments, Kevin took us to Glendalough. It is a nature park, entrance-free, showcasing the raw beauty of nature. We have walked from the visitor center to the Upper Lake. It is a pleasant hike filled with the nice nature-y ambiance of the place. And just when you think you’ve seen the best, wait till you reach the Wicklow Mountains side-by-side fuelling the life-filled lake (from the river streams). You can hike longer using another trail into the mountains if you opt to stay longer.

ducks swimming in the lake

A little drizzle to water this beauty. What a sight!

After that nice encounter, we went back to home bringing nice memories and enjoying a well-deserved dinner!

Just yum!

DAY SIX!

We woke up quite early. 4AM early. Because me and my husband will be taking a 3-hour drive to today’s tourist destination. The day started gloomily. At 6am, raindrops continue to fall. At 7am, no sign of Mr. Sun. At 8am, we passed-by a cafeteria but the sky is all gray! We kinda feel down along the way, good thing Mr. T, our lively tour guide gave us a little laugh.

Despite the rainy state of the day, I still enjoyed the great wonders of nature. It cannot be denied, rain or shine. But it actually became brighter for us. On our first stop, the Bunratty Castle, in contrast to the dull start, rays from Mr. Sun actually welcomed us. Our spirits were up and we enjoyed the brief moment in the castle.

We moved forward to our tour’s destination, the Cliff of Moher. We were so excited to see this place. Me and my husband are sorts of adventurous beings, so we always crave the daring! We finally reached the beautiful county of Clare. From the looks of it, we think we will have a very nice sunny and windy day.

As we jumped off the bus, we directly head towards the walking path to the Cliff of Moher. We hiked towards to visitors’ path but OMG the sight is heavenly! The splash of rough seas against the enormous rocks, the wind screaming behind my ears, the great blue sky, the green grass with sprouts of wildflowers, it’s mesmerizing! We climbed over the wall that separates the visitor’s path and cliff to enjoy the view more. One of a kind!

posing at O’Brien’s Tower

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We had a hangover when we returned to the bus. We recapped our photos and still feel high and actually exhausted. We grabbed lunch at St. Patrick’s Bar (Fitzpartricks Bar) @ Doolin. We enjoyed the seafood chowder and roast beef leisurely, enough to fill our tummies. Good thing our tour guide know when is the best time to come so as to not get stuck with the crowd of tourist. Thus, we have a good eating spot.

seafood chowder

Roasted Beef

Along the way, we stopped by The Burren, a region that is dominated by glaciated landscapes. The wind in the Burren is almost as strong as the Cliffs of Moher. We posed of what the guide called the “Baby Cliffs”.

thanks for our jolly tour guide for helping us take this picture

We had an exhausting but satisfying day. We slept off the bus till we reached the opening to Dublin. It was really an experience of a lifetime.

Reaching Dublin, my lovely college classmate meet us and had dinner together. And that is our last dinner in Ireland before we head back to Abu Dhabi the next day.

korean dining with wilengel and husband

Travelling is very refreshing in the mind. I feel like I am happier every time I set foot in a new place. It made me feel thrilled and excited on how many more places we can travel together and on how big and beautiful the world is. Thank You Lord for blessing us this travel!

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greecechef4-blog · 5 years

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Where To Find The Best Vegetarian And Plant-Based Food In Barcelona

When you think of Spanish cuisine, chances are that most of the dishes involve animal products. Known worldwide for their love of ham, fish and cheese, the Spanish didn’t seem particularly welcome to meat-free consumers. For years, vegans had to rely on plates of Padrón peppers, grilled vegetables and patatas bravas (hold the mayo!) to get by in Spain — but things are changing. Like most cosmopolitan cities around the world, Barcelona is experiencing the same transitions, and here the plant-based movement is not only growing but exploding. Here are my picks for the best plant-based restaurants in Barcelona.

FLAX & KALE

Teresa Carles is known throughout Spain as a veggie restaurant pioneer, and her latest Barcelona restaurant has set the bar even higher. Flax & Kale isn’t actually a vegetarian restaurant, it’s ‘flexitarian’: while 80% of the menu is vegetarian or vegan, the remaining 20% contains some form of oily fish, be it cod, salmon or anchovies. There are three Flax & Kale restaurants in Barcelona, although the newest (and, I think, the best) is Flax & Kale Passage, which offers gluten-free vegan pizzas, healthy Asian fusion cuisine and even boasts its very own Kombucha Lab.

Let’s start with the pizza, because it was the pizza that first blew me away. The crux of a good plant-based pizza is usually the “cheese,” but despite its rapidly improving taste and texture, this can still sometimes be hit-or-miss. Not at Flax & Kale. Here I had my first ever vegan four cheese pizza: plant-based cheddar, blue cheese, mozzarella and a Parmesan-style cheese cutely dubbed “parmigiano teresiano.” The cheeses were melted over a bed of San Marzano tomatoes, and it was gooey, creamy, stringy; I just wish I had a slice to present those who laugh at the very idea of vegan pizza. The gluten-free dough was also exceptional: crisp, light and chewy, it’s a blend of whole grain and non-wheat flours.

Also on the menu is “My Vegan Japanese Girlfriend Bowl,” something I ordered just because I loved the name so much. But happily, the dish itself was delicious: black rice and quinoa topped with jackfruit, green soybeans, onions and tomato, and innovative vegan “scrambled eggs” made from ackee. Another standout dish was the “BBQ Pulled Pork Bao,” where tender braised jackfruit perfectly replaced slow-cooked pork; the texture and taste really has to be experienced to be believed. Drizzled with vegan mayonnaise, chilli jam and fresh cilantro, these delightfully squidgy steamed buns were so satisfying that I had to order a second portion.

“Eat better, be happier, live longer” is the motto at Flax & Kale, and after dining here I can confirm that I left feeling very happy indeed – so happy that I’m wondering whether it’s foolish to fly to a different country just to eat at a restaurant there?

RASOTERRA

Tucked away in the narrow streets of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, vegetarian bistro Rasoterra is focused on slow food made with seasonal and local produce. On the menu, beside each dish, are denotations telling you which dishes are vegan, which are locally sourced and which are gluten-free. The best way to eat here is to share. You’re advised to choose five small plates between two, and the standout for me was the huitlacoche mushroom and avocado taco with bean cream, picked onion and green pepper. Nicknamed the Mexican truffle due to its earthy, pungent taste, huitlacoche isn’t really a mushroom: it’s actually a fungus that grows on corn, and it’s absolutely delicious.

The spinach croquettes with pine nuts, sultanas and vegan aioli were crispy on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside, and packed with rich, piquant flavours. Zucchini also features heavily during the summer months, be it in soups, pastas or salads, but the stuffed zucchini flowers are exceptional. This Italian staple has been given a Catalan twist, and locally grown zucchini is steamed til perfectly firm-yet-tender, and their delicate flowers stuffed with parsley and a creamy almond pesto.

Other popular dishes include the Trinxat — a traditional potato and leek mash (with the addition of tempeh), that’s shaped into little cakes, lightly fried and then topped with hot mole and charred cherry tomatoes. Rasoterra is a principled restaurant (it even has its own manifesto: “Behind each of our dishes, behind each and every one of our ingredients, there is a story. Stories about traditions, cultures, places, secrets, arts and crafts. Stories of love, dedication and passion….”) and it’s clear that extreme care is taken with both the preparation of the food and presentation of dishes.

BARCELONETA SANGRIA BAR

You can’t visit Spain and not sip some sangria, and luckily for those following a plant-based diet, one of the best vegan restaurants in town is BarCeloneta Sangria Bar. Just steps away from the beach, this cool bar serves up vegan versions of Spanish tapas, as well as plenty of raw food dishes. The selection of sangria is large, multicoloured and varied, and there’s a great selection of local organic wines, too. The most popular dish is the aromatic plant-based paella, which comes with succulent yet chewy soy-based ‘shrimps and prawns’, artichokes and mushrooms; it’s excellent — and the first time I’ve encountered a paella with mock-meat and not just veggies.

There’s also an array of traditional Catalan tapas that have been veganised: Las croquetas – mushroom croquettes with sun dried tomato sauce, Patatas BarCeloneta – grilled sliced potatoes with romesco sauce and curried lentil cream, and “Langostinos” a la plancha – veggie “langoustines” (made with soy, wheat and konjac) and baby onions in balsamic, grilled with fresh lime and truffle. Another delicious dish was the organic chickpea and tempeh skewers with eggplant and sundried tomatoes, sauteed and seasoned with tomato jam and sesame.

TERESA CARLES

I can’t write about the veggie food scene in Barcelona without including Teresa Carles. As mentioned, Teresa Carles is the brainchild behind Flax & Kale, and the original pioneer of Spain’s vegetarian restaurants, but it was her eponymous restaurant that kicked things off in Barcelona back in 1979. Located in the buzzing El Raval neighbourhood, close to Plaça de Catalunya, today the restaurant is the epitome of modern style, with exposed brickwork, wooden floors, and a stainless-steel station where you can grab quick juices or salads. It’s usually packed out (you’ll need to reserve a table in the evening) and the weekly changing menu includes plenty of vegan options.

The menu is varied: from home-made cakes and pasta dishes to seitan hamburgers, risottos and soups, there’s something for everyone. Favourites include the Teresa Goes to Tokyo Salad, (wakame, cucumber in asazuke, turnip daikon, tofu, mirin, golden sesame and soy), the Red Devil Raviolo (bicollo ravioli stuffed with aubergines and dried tomatoes, layered on baked eggplant towers with a soft leek cream), and tofu marinated with beetroot, mushroom scallops, spinach, wild asparagus, and mushroom and thyme sauce. Many of the vegetarian dishes can be veganized if you ask, and most of the desserts are plant-based: save room for the vegan black forest cake with coconut cream, chocolate pearls and cherry jam.

Selene Nelson is a UK-based food and travel writer. Follow her foodie adventures here.

Source: http://www.foodrepublic.com/2018/08/09/find-best-plant-based-food-barcelona-spain/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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berry-uglyduckling · 7 years

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Together After All

#p: fh

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ecotone99 · 4 years

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[RF] Foodie (~4500 words)

Warning: Contains some violence, as well as swearing and some mention of sex. I don't think this is very risqué, but I submitted it recently for a creative writing class. Most students liked it, but one guy thought I should've warned people before they read it. So I'm erring on the side of caution.

Also, some may consider this horror. I do not, and so I didn't tag it as such.

Foodie

Carol Wilkenson was a foodie. It was a title she wore with pride, the way other women her age might casually mention that they or their spouse were chiropractors or paralegals. Tell me about yourself, Doug had asked on their first date. Her answer was as obvious as it was immediate.

It was their twentieth anniversary. Carol marked it on the calendar in bold red sharpie, her mouth turning into a cheshire grin as she X’ed out the box. Today was not going to be just another Wednesday. Today there would be romance. Today there would be sex—and not just of the five minute variety. Today there would be a wonderful dinner, prepared by Carol, as she had nearly every night since her honeymoon. And perhaps most importantly: today she would cook not out of habit or familial obligation, as had happened every afternoon for the past few years, but with that elusive magic ingredient her mother always told her about: love. That invisible spice that makes everything smell; taste; feel more vibrant and linger in your memory for years after it happened; playing like a tableau vivant in your mouth. The spice that had for so long been scarce was ready to be recaptured.

Doug joined her for breakfast. He picked up the sports section. And said:

“Good news: the Bills are making the playoffs.”

She smiled. She thought he was joking. Then, he courteously thanked her for breakfast, as he had every day since their honeymoon, tightened his tie, and walked cheerily out the door.

It was only after the screen door screeched to a halt that Carol realized she had broken her honey dipper. Its neck lay strangled in two pieces, one of which bit into her palm. Some of her blood mixed with the honey remaining from Doug’s cursory oatmeal.

“Oh dear.”

Carol sucked on her palm (the honey and blood made it sweet and salty, like some exotic fruit), threw the honey dipper in the trash, and washed her hands, careful not to drive the few remaining splinters further into her skin. She bandaged the wound. Then, she woke up Meg and sent her off to school. Carol insisted that her daughter eat some kind of nutritious breakfast, but she only settled for the desultory Honey Bunches of Oats.

She wished Meg would eat more out of her comfort zone. But Meg did not share her adventurous spirit. A few years ago they had a trip to Bangkok for something involving Doug’s work. Carol didn’t remember exactly what. Doug brought the family along, which made it an exciting opportunity for Meg to learn about other cultures and imbue in her a love of food. But whatever they ordered (on big communal platters, common for Asian restaurants), no matter how exotic or mundane, Meg took one bite, slid her plate back, and said “I’m good.” And Doug was somehow worse; she shuddered to think of the memory.

“Have a good day!” she called out to the bus, which was patiently waiting with its STOP sign extended like an enthusiastic middle finger. Meg didn’t look back.

Carol hung her head and busied herself in the kitchen. It was still her anniversary, and she and Doug would have the best goddarn dinner the two of them ever had. And they’ve had many excellent meals. In Venetion diners and Parisian cafes. Black risotto and escargot. Frog legs and couscous. Cajun food that upset Doug’s stomach so much that he couldn’t handle a second bite. All the organic, orgasmic food they ate in all the wonderful, envious places they traveled. Before she made a pitstop in her local Walgreens. And that little plastic stick showed two lines, not one.

They stopped traveling and settled down. They couldn’t raise a kid on the go, in cramped hotel rooms and seedy bathroom changing stations. Still, Carol had loved her career as a photojournalist. It took her to all the places where the best cuisine was hiding. Some of her work was pretty well reviewed too, making waves in the small and esoteric community of photojournalism.

But that wasn’t compatible with a child. The last interesting thing she ate—interesting and good, not the Arbys that gave her food poisoning—was her daughter’s placenta. It was mostly made of blood cells, and was entirely tasteless. She finished it more for curiosity’s sake than enjoyment factor, but it only made her long for the savory, dramatic dishes of years past. As she had sat there, unenthusiastically consuming, she felt like a cow that chews its own cud. Then, there was Doug, who had walked into the kitchen at just the wrong time. He saw the placenta, opened from its styrofoam box that the hospital sent home, per her request, like a perverse McDonalds Happy Meal. Then, he had made a face—the same fucking face—as Bangkok.

Her daughter’s bowl shattered against the fridge.

“Fuck you!” she screamed at the picture of Doug, pinned with a magnet and now soaking in spilled milk. Like the milk puddling on the pool, regret immediately seeped in.

“Oh, God. I didn’t mean it.”

Unconsciously, she bit the back of her hand. Chewing it, testing the muscles and tendons as her fingers flexed. It was an unconscious habit of hers, like Meg when she bit her nails or Doug when he pulled at his tie. She never bit too deeply, just massaged the back of her hand with her teeth. Feeling her teeth grind across the heel of her hand, fleshy as a ripe apple and underlain with tendons taut like piano wire. Her habit was a strange one, but not unheard of. She figured it was the same self-affirming way an infant sucked its thumb; built from a natural yearn to find comfort using the only means at its disposal.

She heard that fingers snap with the same strength it takes to crack a baby carrot. It was an interesting thought: that such a precious instrument, the nimble and adroit hand, could break so easily. Dipped in hummus and eaten like just another Super Bowl dish. She wondered, fleetingly yet not for the first time, what human tastes like.

It was surprising that she didn’t already know. Over the years, she had sampled a king’s ransom of dishes. On her trip to Venezuela, building houses for those displaced in Hurricane Isidore, she was offered local meals from the grateful inhabitants: goat’s blood and guinea pig, the first of which was customary, the latter of which was a delicacy. She gratefully accepted both. Neither was particularly good, but at least she tried them, and that was the ethos of being a foodie, she had explained to Doug. Five years later, they went to the New York State Fair. Doug, hungry and unwilling to wait for their reservations at Le Pamplemousse, a fancy french restaurant twenty minutes from the fairground, bought a stick of fried butter. He offered her half. When she refused, he educated her on the ethos of being a foodie. She chewed. She swallowed.

In a moment of curiosity, she turned to Google for answers. What does human taste like?

After fifteen minutes of patient scrolling and several clickbaity headlines, she found out that humans tasted, strangely enough, like pork. You probably wouldn’t taste the difference if served side by side, the website explained. Is that a challenge? Carol jokingly thought. With her foodie taste buds, she was certain she could sniff out the difference. Not that she would ever try, though. As if.

While she thoroughly wiped the picture of Doug, Carol apologized to his image. She didn’t hold anything against her husband. Nothing. On the contrary, he had supported her in hard times. When her father passed. When she had her second pregnancy scare, this one (thankfully) false. And of course, his constant companionship to all those places—Marseille and Istanbul and Galway and Marrakesh.

The last of the ceramic fragments were deposited in the trash. The milk was puddled up with a dish towel, then thrown in the laundry bin. Carol got back to work.

Last month she was skimming through the Food Network and came across a fascinating recipe: hot and sour soup. She had always wanted to try it out, but never got around to it. Paired with her signature linguine and clam sauce—a dish that always appealed to Doug’s taste, the Wilkensons could have a perfect anniversary dinner. She went to the pantry, which was overflowing with jams and spices after twenty years of marriage, and selected her ingredients.

White pepper. Onions. Vinegar. Bottled mushrooms. Jarred olives. Some shrimp from the fridge. Mozzarella slices. Bits of chicken, diced like cheese. Eggs, but not too many; she didn’t want her final product to be too “slushy.”

As she mixed, chopped, sautéred, and cooked, she cheerily hummed All You Need Is Love to herself, a song that played at her wedding.

She finished the soup and went to work on the linguine with clam sauce, which by now was as habitual as brushing her teeth while Rachel Maddow gave her the news. She lingered in the pantry and brought out her spices—fourteen in all, although Doug admitted that he could only taste three. By now, she had calculated that it took two trips to the pantry for linguini, and one perusal of the fridge.

Spaghetti and bowtie pasta, finely mixed. Olive oil. More onions. A clove of garlic. Lemon juice. Parsley. A dash of Maruso soy sauce. A sprinkle of salt. Tomato sauce, but not too much. Minced clams.

Lastly, Carol went to the cellar and brought up a bottle of Château Margaux. At half a grand, it was the most expensive wine they owned, a wedding present from Doug’s childhood friend, some rich Wall Street guy named Joe, not yet humbled by the crisis of ‘07. Doug had stuck it in the basement, saving the bottle for a special occasion. Carol figured two decades was time enough at last, and stuck it in the fridge.

Oh dear! She thought with a start. I almost forgot the carrots!

She looked at the kitchen clock. It was three minutes short, but Carol realized it was nearly four. Where had the time gone? Doug would be getting back from the office around now. Meg would soon join them—she had soccer practice until five. A teammate’s mom was driving her home.

Carol cursed herself for the two hours she spent watching The Crown while letting the chicken thaw, then cook. As she hurried to chop the carrots, her mind wandered again to Olivia Coleman, venerable and austere as Elizabeth II. Carol was so far removed from all those ladies in the show, who would never burden themselves with housework (they had servants for that), but instead perform diplomatic duties, making speeches and traveling to foreign countries. To Carol, it was more and more unlikely she would ever work or travel again. After her stint as a photojournalist, she worked at home for a couple years, putting her English degree to use writing advice columns in a American Woman, a near-unheard of women's magazine. My boyfriend left, someone would write in. My husband’s not talking to me. She always gave some fancy variation of the same answer, which could be distilled to: Get a grip, girl! You’re a grown-ass woman. Take charge of your life.

Now she felt like a terrible hypocrite, an unemployed housewife with no career prospects, fussing over the thickness of Doug’s hot and sour soup. She paused from chopping carrots, bit her hand, then resumed the task. How could she have ever had the audacity to write such advice?

It had been 2007 when she quit the magazine, when Meg entered the terrible twos and ate up all her time. For the time being, she had said to Doug. But they both knew it was permanent. After an exciting and successful career as a photojournalist, anything less was cripplingly depressing. Better nothing than something less. And they both knew it wasn’t Meg’s fault. If it was, she would’ve had an abortion. She was an independent woman. Neither of their families were picky about things like that. It was just… they both knew—although neither he nor her said anything—that they’d have to stop traveling and settle down. Grow up. Move on with their lives. It was time.

It was time.

“FUCK!”

She looked down at her hand, spouting blood from the tip of her pinkie finger like a water balloon with a hole. The knife rattled against the cutting board. Blood trickled on top of the cut carrots like the decorative sauce drizzled over hors d'oeuvres at some fancy eatery. Carol knew from years of restaurant experience that this was called plating. The top of her pinkie lay with the carrots; just another delicacy.

She hurriedly covered her hand with a wad of paper towels. It soaked through.

She rushed to the bathroom and threw open the door above the sink. Toothbrushes and bottles of aspirin clattered into the sink as she found the bandages. Wielding her teeth like some disgruntled animal, she tore open the box of bandages, then struggled with the waxy strip, tears welling in her eyes and blank black painspots eating up the foreground.

When the bandage was on and she felt healed enough to move, Carol wiped up the blood. Much of it was dried and black.

Black as elderberries.

Carol looked over to the cutting board. The carrots lay there, all in a row, quiet as a crime scene. She used the knife, still bloody, to scrape the bleeding carrots into the trash. Then she stopped. The finger was still there, an unpainted nail like a postal stamp in the corner of the cutting board. It clung on by a sticky glob of blood. Carol recalled a time when she read Meg a book of scary children’s stories.

(Meg was really into that stuff as a kid, and Doug thought something might be off with her, as if she was destined to become the first female serial killer.)

As one story went, there was a boy who ate some soup with a toe in it. After dinner, he’s sent to bed. He’s later haunted by the toe’s owner. Where is my big toe? Where is my toe? Carol always thought that was the scariest of all the stories. But even still, gazing at the piece of truncated pinkie like a crumb of meat left on the plate, it looked kind of… appetizing.

She set the cutting board down. Then, moving quickly as to not regret it, she peeled the finger off the cutting board and threw it into her mouth, nail and all. It caught in her throat for a moment, and for a second she was sure she’d choke on her stupidity, but then it gave.

Down the hatch and ‘round the corner, she thought. Then, out loud, with an air of awed tranquility:

“Tastes like chicken.”

She laughed at her crack, then tended to the mess. She washed the cutting board, not caring about chopping another carrot. Doug will just have to go another day without any carrots, that’s all. He’ll manage.

Doug wheeled his Prius into the garage at 4:30 p.m. By then, the linguine was sizzling on a saucepan, and its tangy scent permeated the house. Carol was ecstatic.

By now, he would have remembered their anniversary. He must’ve felt horrible (just horrible!) all day at work, upon remembering, with a start, that today was December 2nd. He would walk through the door and drop to his knees, exalting her with compliments and pleas of “I’m sorry,” and declaring his commitment to marriage. And love for her.

And this morning? It was just a fluke. His morning coffee hadn’t yet set in, and he was groggy and disoriented. He had forgotten their anniversary, but only for a minute.

The door opened with an anticipatory groan. Carol breathed deeply. The smells of her fresh cooking intermingled in a miasma of spice.

“Hey,” he said, with all the gusto of a cottonmouthed telemarketer. Doug walked into the kitchen. He hung his coat. Slipped off his shoes.

“I prepared a nice dinner for us,” she said.

He said nothing, just trudged into the living room, sat on the couch, and flicked on the evening news.

Not even a “smells good.”

A minute passed. Carol saw a chime on her phone. From Meg.

“Meg’s at Amy’s house,” she told Doug. “Says she’ll be back at nine.”

“Okay.”

“We should eat without her, just the two of us.”

“Okay.”

She set the table and placed the linguine on a dish, carefully so, like an offering on an altar. She did the same with the soup, and stirred it lovingly. She blew into the steam as if in prayer.

“What’s this?”

“Hot and sour soup.”

When she saw the disgruntled look on his face, she added:

“It’s Asian cuisine.”

“Chinese food,” he said dejectedly.

“Doesn’t it smell good?”

“Yeah,” he conceded.

They ate like mannequins, miming out their movements as if reading from a script. Pick up fork. Stab bowtie noodles. Swallow.

“Anything interesting happen at work today?”

“Same old, same old.”

Test spoon in soup. Raise it to your lips. Swallow.

“You haven’t touched your linguine,” she says, once he had finished the soup.

“Sorry. Do you want it? I’m not in the mood for this stuff again.”

This stuff again. This stuff again.

Those words played in her head, round and round, heating up slightly, like the plate in a microwave.

“No, I’ll just put it away.”

She took the plate and ducked behind the kitchen counter. Retrieved a large tupperware. She tilted the plate—a move so simple yet to her as melancholic as the R.M.S. Titanic sliding into the Atlantic. Most of the plate sludged into the plastic. But some noodles remained.

This stuff again.

She took an oversized cutting knife and scraped them off, trying to get as much of the clam sauce as possible. The knife shined silver, the sauce was white as semen.

“It was good,” Doug said, and Carol couldn’t help but smile. She deposited the tupperware in the fridge, and, positioning her back to Doug to cover his view of the kitchen, discreetly removed another item.

“I’m glad you like it. But there’s more.”

With that, she heaved the full weight of her body against the corkscrew wine opener and popped the bottle of Château Margaux.

Pooompf!

Bubbles instantly fizzed up; tiny iridescent balloons in celebration. Like whitewater on a beach. Carol smiled, so lost in thought that she barely understood the words coming out of Doug’s mouth. They must’ve echoed three times around the kitchen before they reached her eardrums.

“Are you crazy?!?”

“Huh?” she was still smiling, pouring the green bottle into the first of two wine glasses.

“That’s Château Margaux!”

“I know,” Carol says, hesitantly at first. Then, with a firmer voice:

“That’s why I’m pouring it.”

“That was from Joe Briggasson. We were supposed to save it for special occasions. You just opened it. You ruined it.”

Carol couldn’t stop herself. As she spoke, she strangled the neck of Doug’s wine glass.

“Special occasions?”

She laughed, a hollow cackle that scared her more than him.

“Ruined it? Did I, Doug? Did I really?”

Anger crept into her voice in the same sneaky way she found herself humming along to a tune in the supermarket she didn’t know was playing.

“Yes, you did!” Doug said. “You’re supposed to sit on that for a few decades.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Doug.” Carol said, with mock sympathy. It was a tone unfamiliar to both Doug and herself. “I guess twenty years of marriage wasn’t enough for you.”

“Twenty years? Twenty...” he trailed off, head turned toward the calendar behind her. Red sharpie accused him. Red like blood.

“I told you, honey.” he said, getting his voice under control. “This morning. I said Happy Anniversary. You must’ve forgot.”

“Liar!”

Shmakkkk!

Carol looked down. Her hand had thoroughly choked the neck of the wineglass. It lay shattered, its glass spread out on the linoleum floor like petals of some deadly flower. Puddled with blood and $500 wine. It was the third time she cut her hand today. That’s a hat trick.

“Oh, Carol,” he said sadly, condescendingly.

“Here, let me help.”

The chair pushed back. He went into the kitchen, wearing a face of both sympathy and disgust. It was the look he wore in Bangkok. Bangkok. The beautiful city with the grilled octopus that Doug was too afraid to try and looked at her funny when she did, as if he had walked in on her performing fellatio on another man. The disgust he wore never left her memory. It was such a minor grievance, so silly that they never talked about it. One of those inconsequential peccadilloes that married people are supposed to forgive, and, if God forbade, forget. But still, like a bad stain, it didn’t seem to fade. On the contrary, it grew. Festered in her mind. Fed there.

She realized, then, that she hated Doug.

She looked at the knife, snuggled in its block of triangular wood.

“Are you cut?”

She didn’t answer. She bit her hand. Most of the wine remained in the bottle, still bubbling up. Up and up and up. Fizzing. Like grease on a skillet.

“Okay, not too bad.”

He inspected her palm. Only a few scrapes. Some blood, but nothing too deep. There was a bandage on her pinkie finger covering the nail, but it looked like Carol had handled that already. So, he crouched down and picked up some of the glass from the floor. Collecting it into a sparkling pile.

She couldn’t look at him. She bit her hand. She looked at the wine. Fizzing.

Like a snake’s hiss.

“I can’t believe this.” he said, head bowed, his balding hair displayed like a half-assed attempt at a monk’s tonsure. “Five hundred down the drain.”

She looked at the block of wood, knife nestled cozily inside. The wine bottle stood beside it. Then, without thinking, her hand left her mouth. She wrung the bottle by the neck and thrashed it against his head. It exploded in a hail of glass and colored fluid.

He doubled over.

“Fuhhh—”

Glass everywhere.

Blood, too, black as elderberries.

Wine, fizzing. Hissing like a snake.

He turned around, and she could see that he fell on glass. Some pieces twinkled to the floor. They sparkled like the spilled champagne. He raised his mangled hands defensively. Fingers bled like the carrots sitting in the bottom of the trash can.

“Carol…”

She pounced on him, driving the full weight of her body into her hand, which clutched the corkscrew wine opener like an epipen. It slid into his throat.

Then, everything was red.

For one fleeting infinity: that awful, scarlet ubiquity.

She blinked, and he was there again. Eyes glazed and trembling like spoonfuls of jello. Beads of sweat on his brow, pustules of blood, drips of wine, all pregnantly static. Lips parted, as if to taste. He managed to croak out one word:

“Whhhhhyyyyyy?”

And she—still draped over him like they were a much younger couple, faces inches apart, ready to do the deed—answered:

“Octopus.”

She twisted the spiral.

He sputtered; twitched; convulsed like having a seizure. She felt every movement. His hands fell sleepily to his side, parting the broken glass.

His mouth was a science project: a volcano oozing magma. Drops cascaded down his chin the way chocolate sauce topped an ice cream sundae. They pooled in his fat neck, which was resting, bonelessly, on the linoleum.

Carol uncurled her fingers from the twisted metal spiral. She looked at them—cut up and covered in both their blood. Like a wounded animal, she licked her fingers.

Finger-licking good, she thought, and released a hollow laugh. Then, she put her mouth to the back of her hand, chewing. Ponderous, but not nervous.

“Oh, Doug. What did you make me do?”

The room smelled sickly sweet, the fragrances of wine and home cooking still identifiable. Its sallange permeated the entire house, clinging like flies to a corpse.

She surveyed the kitchen—all that blood and wine and broken glass, some volleyed across the room—and saw the oven. She looked back to Doug’s volcano face. And knew, just knew, what to do. She kissed him on the lips, wet and still warm. Then she leaned back, licked the blood from her lips, and said:

“You look delicious.”

Meg came home at 9:15 p.m. She sniffed the air. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what, exactly. She shook her head. Meg had had her period this morning, and the smell of blood still lingered.

Her mother was in the kitchen, cooking, though that was usual for her. Even late at night, she always had something in the oven. With her mother, a bowl was always ready to lick, and a good meal perpetually at their fingertips. In recent months, she felt bad about turning down mom’s cooking, saying she wasn’t feeling the chicken parmigiana. In reality, she didn’t want to get fat. She didn’t want to have a nickname at school like Size-Forty Sandra.

But that would change. She would eat what her mother cooked. She didn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings.

Besides, as far as chefs were concerned, her mother wasn’t half bad.

“Hi, Meg. How was Amy’s?”

“Alright.”

“Did you eat yet?”

“Yeah, a little. Some chicken with Amy and her parents. But I have room for more. What do you have?”

“Let’s just say… mystery meat.”

“Sure, as long as it’s not octopus again. I couldn’t stand that when we went to Bangkok.”

“Oh, no,” her mother said, flashing her pearly whites like a walking, talking dental ad. “Much better.”

She plopped a steaming chunk of meat on a plate and turned around, looking radiant. Meg could not remember the last time her mom looked this happy. She looked ten years younger! Even in the wan light of the kitchen, her wrinkles seemed smoothed, her eyes sparkled with brilliance. There was a renewed bounce to her step as she set the plate down in front of her, all the while grinning ear to ear. To Meg, this seemed almost a comical sight. Because for all this renewed vigor and ebullient veneer, her mother had not noticed what was caught between her two front teeth: dangling there, like a fly entombed in a spider’s web, was a slim sliver of meat.

“Dig in,” she said, and Meg did.

End.

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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The NYC Dessert Delivery Guide added to Google Docs

The NYC Dessert Delivery Guide

Without friends to meet up with, it’s likely your evening confidants now mostly involve bulk quantities of chocolate peanut butter swirl ice cream. Give your bent spoon a night off, and order some dessert from one of the places on this guide. Alternatively, if you’re here to order a dessert for someone in your life - know that you’re an excellent friend and that there’s pretty much no better way to tell someone you love them without a smooch on the mouth.

All restaurants featured on The Infatuation are selected by our editorial team. The NYC Dessert Delivery Guide is presented by Uber Eats. In the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, supporting our local restaurant community has never been more important. Uber Eats customers can now give directly to the restaurants they love at checkout. 100% will go to the restaurant. Order now to support. See app for details.

Featured In The Ultimate NYC Delivery & Takeout Guide See all our guides the spots Brandon Jones Maman $$$$ 22 W 25th St

A quick story: the first time we ever went into Maman’s Soho location for coffee and a cookie, someone was crouching at eye-level with the cookies on display. This gesture said: “I see you, cookie, and you will be mine.” It was striking and kind of sexy. While you can’t mimic this approach in Maman’s bakery right now, you certainly should try it once their cookies arrive at your apartment. They also have DIY cookie kits available if you want to bake at home (or send someone a present).

Patisserie Chanson Patisserie Chanson $$$$ 20 W 23rd St

Unless you’re living with a French pastry chef (if this is the case, well done), you probably won’t be able to make anything that even closely resembles the desserts at Patisserie Chanson in Flatiron. Go to their website to place your order for things like eclairs, macarons, and salted caramel kouign amanns. They deliver all over Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens.

Order delivery Ciao, Gloria $ $ $ $ Sandwiches , Brunch in Brooklyn , Prospect Heights $$$$ 550 Vanderbilt Ave Not

Rated

Yet

After a brief hiatus, Ciao, Gloria in Prospect Heights is back open for takeout and delivery. If you couldn’t glean from the name already, know that they specialize in Italian pastries and cookies like biscotti and amaretti, but there are plenty of brownies and full birthday cakes, too. You don’t have to tell them it’s not you’re birthday until October. Go to their website here to place your order.

Mekelburg's $ $ $ $ Bar Food , Sandwiches in Clinton Hill $$$$ 293 Grand Ave. Not

Rated

Yet

This is an official motion to substitute all greeting cards with Mekelburg’s chocolate babka instead. It will save paper, it will save friendships, it will make everyone feel extraordinarily loved. You can go to Mekelburg’s website to send someone (or yourself) this new form of greeting card. Plus, both Brooklyn locations have tons of other things to stock your fridge with, like beer, kitchen staples, and sandwiches.

Breads Bakery - Lincoln Center $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery in Upper West Side $$$$ 1890 Broadway

We don’t want to start any civil disobedience among the NYC babka-loving community, but you should also know that Breads Bakery in Union Square and Lincoln Center have cheesecake babka available for delivery and pick-up during May (in addition to all of their other pastries, cookies, and sweets).

Contra/Wildair Contra $ $ $ $ American in Lower East Side $$$$ 138 Orchard St. 8.6 /10

We’re taking comfort in nostalgia right now, which explains why we’ve been re-watching Notting Hill with the intensity of someone who has been assigned an essay on it. It also explains the draw to the chocolate “dirt cups” with gummy worms on Contra/Wildair’s takeout menu. If you’re in or near lower Manhattan, you can order their desserts directly through Contrair’s website, but they’re also delivering to Brooklyn and Upper Manhattan through other online platforms.

Bien Cuit $$$$ 120 Smith St

If you’re looking for some external motivation to get through your workday, Bien Cuit’s chocolate croissants, blondies, and brownies should provide enough sugar and thrill to help out. The Cobble Hill, Midtown East, and Crown Heights locations of this excellent bakery are open for takeout and delivery. And when your boss gives you a “nice work today” message at 6pm, you can pat your belly and thank the fudgy brownie that knew you could do it all along.

Noah Devereaux Seba Seba $$$$ 7928 37th Ave

The 37th Avenue location of this Colombian bakery in Jackson Heights recently re-opened for takeout and delivery every day from 7am to 7pm. You can order everything from whole cakes and flan to empanadas loaded with juicy beef. Just call 718-478-4691 to place your order.

Martha's Country Bakery $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery , Dessert in Brooklyn , Williamsburg $$$$ 263 Bedford Ave Not

Rated

Yet

Maybe you’ve been scanning this guide for the word CHEESECAKE. Well, here it is again: CHEESECAKE. Martha’s Country Bakery has ten varieties available for takeout and delivery (as well as a ton of other different cakes, cookies, and pastries). You can call their Bayside, Astoria, and Forest Hills locations to place your order for pick-up or delivery, and order from their Williamsburg location online here.

Order delivery Noah Devereaux Dek Sen $ $ $ $ Thai in Elmhurst $$$$ 86-08 Whitney Ave 7.8 /10

In addition to their great Thai food, Dek Sen in Elmhurst has a bunch of over-the-top desserts that will make you feel like you’re about ten years old again, and the world is simple and good. Expect lava cakes, fried bananas with fried ice cream, homemade Thai tea ice cream, and rainbow cakes with tons of thin layers. You can place your pick-up or delivery order online or by calling 718-205-5181.

Order delivery Emily Schindler Milk Bar Chelsea $$$$ 220 8th Ave

An idea for a Zoom birthday: have everyone order matching cakes from Milk Bar and cut out slices from opposite sides to create the illusion that you’re eating from the same one. In addition to offering takeout and delivery in NYC, Milk Bar is shipping their cakes, pies, and cookies all over the country. You can place your order online.

Noah Devereaux Pies 'n' Thighs $ $ $ $ American , Southern in Brooklyn , Williamsburg $$$$ 166 S 4th St. 8.0 /10

You don’t need a reason to order yourself a slice of cherry pie. But here are two possible ones: you watched a few episodes of Mad Men where Betty makes mid-century Americana food (think meatloaf, shrimp cocktail, and jello salad) and gets jealous of her kids, or maybe you had a night terror about a monstrous cherry chasing you and you need to reclaim your relationship with the fruit. Either way, Pies ‘n’ Thighs in Williamsburg is prepared to deliver you the goods.

Comfortland $ $ $ $ American in Astoria $$$$ 4009 30th Ave Not

Rated

Yet

This Astoria spot has donuts, massive cinnamon rolls, and guava turnovers available for delivery and takeout weekdays from 10am to 4pm and weekends from 9am to 5pm. If you want to pair some booze with your dessert, they also have a bunch of to-go cocktails you’ll want to drink on your roof like a watermelon limeade slushie. Check their Instagram for more information.

Kate Previte Russ & Daughters $ $ $ $ Diner , Bagels in Lower East Side $$$$ 179 E. Houston St. 8.6 /10

In case you are deeply comforted by the presence of rugelach and black and white cookies, know that the LES and Navy Yard locations of Russ & Daughters are open for carryout, and their Jewish Museum store is also online. Russ & Daughter’s also ships nationwide, in case your cousin in Austin needs some chocolate babka right now.

Sugar Sweet Sunshine $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery , Dessert in Lower East Side $$$$ 126 Rivington St Not

Rated

Yet

You aren’t going to be one of those people that learns how to bake beautiful cakes during quarantine, it’s simply not your style. Luckily both locations of Sugar Sweet Sunshine on the LES are delivering cakes and other pastries all over lower Manhattan. You can place your order for cupcakes, puddings (their banana one is excellent), and whole cakes online.

Order delivery Orwasher's Bakery $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery in Upper West Side $$$$ 308 E 78th St Not

Rated

Yet

If you’re uptown and don’t want to wait for your oven to pre-heat to eat something sweet, Orwasher’s is open on the UES and UWS. They serve Jewish pastries like rugelach and hearty black and white cookies that you could feasibly use as plates for other desserts, as well as some great almond croissants.

Levain Bakery $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery in Upper West Side $$$$ 167 W 74th St

All of the slightly burned yet doughy cookies you’ve been making are...wonderful in their own rustic way. But, they’re not Levain cookies. If you want to get schooled in cookie anatomy (or make someone outside of NYC very happy), order a few to your apartment or ship a box nationally.

Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop $ $ $ $ Cafe/Bakery , Dessert in Greenpoint $$$$ 727 Manhattan Ave Not

Rated

Yet

If you’re in Greenpoint or Williamsburg and you want something sweet and celebratory (or, if you’re reading this on behalf of someone else and want to make their day), get some excellent donuts from Peter Pan. They’re open or pick-up orders, starting at 4:30am.

via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/new-york/guides/nyc-dessert-delivery-guide Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen

Created May 9, 2020 at 12:50AM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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mariecheco · 4 years

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22 hours in Atlanta

I left for the airport at 1pm, was in the terminal at 2, and on the plane at 3. Spirit flight left on time, arrived on time. i love to travel, i know by know that every time you get on a plane you are rolling the dice. Will TSA be backed up, will they want to check your bag, will there be traffic to the airport, will they leave late, or will the flight be completely cancelled. Things were coming together nicely. Blessings received. I wanted more then anything to be at the venue before doors. Landed at 530, that wasn’t looking like an option. I had to travel to my hotel because the venue didn’t have bag check. I wasn’t even originally going to get a hotel, i just wanted to see the show then maybe hang at the airport for a flight that leaves at 4am. People at work convinced me not to. I realize now that I can do this because they have suites at the airport, so a sit in is totally welcome. Next time.

There is no real way to prepare for what happens step by step after you get off the plane. I don’t know Atlanta’s airport. I dont know anyone that does. I had to figure out how to get to the show as early as possible and navigate Atlanta notorious traffic. I got off the plane and spun around, which way to run, terminal hop? Take a taxi or metro? Whatever jumps out first. It was the metro. It was so easy to manage you could have easily stumbled upon it. All trains from the airport head one direction. The direction you are going probably, north. And there was a train waiting. Yes! It’s was affordable, faster than driving, and guess what: $2.50. I ordered food at my hotel restaurant on the train, something with Georgia in the name. And arrived at 630. The hotel gave me complementary breakfast because they had to change my room around. Hell yes. The hotel had a free drink tasting in the lobby: a martini that tasted like shrimp cocktail sauce. I sipped on it while they grabbed my food. i regret not eating the green olive. The room was very nice. I wish i could always stay at Hiltons. It feels so good in their rooms. I joined their rewards program. It’s not affordable if you are fronting the bill and going on long trips. Maybe one day. The food was amazing. salmon, greens, and corn bread. I called my ride while I was eating and then waited outside for one minute. It was dark and 66 degrees out. There is no better feeling then the summer warmth in a cold Midwest season. Ever travel to Florida in the dead of winter? You know what i mean then. I believe i will be in Florida soon. Maybe my birthday. I have a fantasy of flying to Florida buying a guitar then returning it before i go back. I’ll probably stay home and record music that week. My favorite thing to do and the hardest thing to do: stay home.

I got to the venue at 715. 45 minutes later then i wanted. I asked someone in the front row stage right if he was saving a spot for someone. He gave me a disgruntled yes. There is a nice way to talk to people and a rude way to talk to people. I walked away and accepted second row center stage. The kind people that had been waiting since 5pm said they would make room for me when the time came. Front stage center. From detrioit. Flying spirit.

I packed only a book bag. It felt amazing to fly threw the airport with only a book bag. So used to the heavy suitcase. My dickies backpack did great for the 22 hour visit.

I talked to the kind people around me and enjoyed their southern accents. Front row center people are the best people. They were men and i noticed how easy it was for me to talk to them. There were two girls standing next to me and i didn’t say a word to. I have messed up reasons on why i think men want to talk to me. Working with Dr. Aziz I’m trying to reset my mind: talking to strangers is not always about sex. We are all people. People don't want to feel alone. Your presence is more then sex. You’re energy means something. Being there adds something. Truely. Isn’t it sad that I’m just learning that now? And not every girl is going to bite your head off. Don’t know how long it will take me to learn that lesson. I would love to have more girl friends. No pun intended.

Chelsea played a heavy looking Taylor acoustic that had a very tight grain and solid feel. The sound hole was blocked by a black cover. It looked like she barely touched the strings, but the resonated loud and clear. I love Chelsea Wolfe and this was the 5th time I’ve seen her, each time is completely different. I feel like my heart has hardened because I’ve been so turned off by acoustic music lately. Maybe she cracked it.

I made it back to my hotel exhausted. But couldn’t sleep. I messed with the temperature. Then slept an hour and woke up sweating. Then was up the rest of the night. Round 4 am i just embraced it and started making coffee and writing this. At least ‘id get to enjoy this nice hotel room. Around 5am i went downstairs looking for drip coffee. They didn’t start serving it till 6am. Then went back to my room and showered. At 645 i checked out and sat down for the breakfast. It was freaking incredible. I had their party food: cheese and meats. Then they had fried chicken and biscuit, something that was like sunny side up egg ham cheese and bread, and a slice of flat bread with a fruit parfait. It was the best breakfast I’ve ever had. Cranberry juice. I scarfed as much down as i could. Like a king. I hit the road and took the train to the airport. Once again hella happy with the metro service. It was the shit. I was a little nervous because it was about 30mins till boarding. TSA took about 10 minutes and I got to my gate right as they started boarding. That’s cutting it a little close. I decided that i wanted to get TSA pre-check at that point. This has been a hell of a year. Cali in feb, NYC in April, Cali in August; Portland in October, Boston/Maine in October, Atlanta in November. That’s 13 flights. I’ve also driven to Chicago, up north, and Pittsburg as well.

There is this little boy, i would say 2 years old, looking at me from the seat diagonal with literally the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. He is adorable. There is nothing cuter then a small child using an adult armrest. So adorable. Honestly this one of the highlights of my trip. Being around such radiant joy is incredible.

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healthbolt-blog · 5 years

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New Post has been published on Health bolt

New Post has been published on http://www.healthbolt.net/cooking/healthy-cooking-classes-charlotte-nc/

Healthy Cooking Classes Charlotte Nc

Contents

Healthy mexican comfort

Broccoli rabe. meal prepping

City – charlotte

Cook delicious grilled vegetables

Vegetables cook quickly

Fayetteville Technical Community College Public 2-year Fayetteville, NC $2,528 Basic Skills Education Program (BSEP), Military Certificate Programs, Online Flex Courses, Military training credit, Degr…

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Our hands-on classes teach cooks at every age how to make seasonal, flavorful meals at home. Our private events are designed for interaction and lots of foodie fun. Our corporate catering service moves lunchtime beyond the basics. Plus, we offer Saturday brunch, prepared meals for the family, and products that make healthy cooking a breeze.

Top 5 Healthy Cooking Oils Healthy Way To Cook Collard Greens chard and collard greens. leafy vegetables are rich in carotenoids, which are beneficial to keeping eyes healthy. With this in mind, I’ve gathered 13 Epic Leafy Greens Recipes to help you eat your way … Kale may be the trendy green, but collard greens are my favorite dark, leafy greens. They are hearty and delicious; I love them raw and cooked. How To Cook Beef Healthy Healthy Ways To Cook Brown Rice Rice is a healthy food when prepared properly … If you don’t have any, then green or brown will do. Definitely do not use r… Brown rice, once the darling carb of the health conscious, is often overcooked and mushy … and ripe for reinvention. Here you’ll find 17 recipes that’ll take brown rice to another level. With generous amounts of fiber, protein and complex carbohydrates per serving, brown rice is certainly a healthy food to have in your … try adding calories to the rice in another way. You may want t… How To cook healthy roast potatoes How To Cook Healthy Cube Steak No matter how you cook it, you’ll love this inexpensive and versatile cut of beef. Click “Launch Gallery” to see six easy cube steak recipes that I know you’ll want to try! How do you cook yours? I was going through my freezer and have two packages of cube steak. I’d love to go ahead and cook them but I don’t think I’ve ever made it before. I’d love to see any recipes yo… Cook until the meat is as done as you like—about 10 -20 minutes Cut in thin strips against the grain on a 45-degree angle to the cutting board. Serve with vegetable and carb of your choice. Season eac… Crock Pot Cubed Steak with Gravy I think my love for my slow cooker is pretty well known (well, at least to my family). It really is one of my most favorite kitchen appliances. It’s right up there with my stand mixer. It is the busy parent, busy worker, and beginner cook’s best friend. It can take a rather tough cut of meat, like what I am using in this Crock Pot Cubed Steak with Gravy recipe … Cube steak is a tougher cut of meat pounded to make it tender. We like it because it cooks quickly and is inexpensive–perfect for a weeknight dinner. Look for presliced mushrooms to save even more time on prep. Serve with: Mashed potatoes and grilled broccoli rabe. Meal prepping just means planning your meals in advance and cooking them in one big batch. It’s a simple tool that can make h… Cube steak is cooked for 2 hours until tender in this simple recipe. cubed pork steak is made by pounding a pork cutlet with a meat tenderizer or a specialized cubing tenderizer. The result leaves cube-shaped indentations on the meat’s surface. The process allows the p… Is easy cook rice Healthy I love to give leftovers a

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Xpress spoke with four young, successful chefs whose passions for cooking were first cultivated … collaborating with A-B Te…

Healthy Way To Cook Plantains Footnotes Editor’s Note; We have determined the nutritional value of oil for frying based on a retention value of 10% after cooking. The exact amount may vary depending on cook time and temperature, ingredient density, and the specific type of oil used. Black-ripe plantains are the sweetest. They can be peeled like a banana and make wonderful desserts. When peeling less-ripe plantains, you’ll have more success by cutting it in two to four sections, t… Batista remembers fondly how she would make … has her way, everyone will soon be eating healthier foods from ethical farms. … How To Cook Frozen Vegetables Healthy If you feel untethered eating-wise and uncomfortable in your clothes, and if you’ve sworn to yourself that you’d start gettin… We love this bright, healthy main-dish salad for … easy to put together when you have a stash of frozen shrimp at the ready … Who doesn’t apprecaite the convenience of frozen produce every once in a while? It’s ready to cook, requires zero prep, and there’s no risk of losing a finger while choppng away. Since it’s … Grilling vegetables is an easy way to add amazing flavor to the humble plants. Use these tips to cook delicious grilled vegetables. Move over, meat: it’s time to grill some vegetables. vegetables cook quickly and are so delicious with just the hint of smoke from the grill. Plus, you don’t have to … Place a sieve, steaming pot or bamboo steaming basket over the simmering water. add the frozen vegetables and cover them with a lid. Allow the hot steam to cook the vegetables all the way through. Frozen Vegetables Are Hot! Chill out: Veggies from the freezer are fast, easy and convenient Starchy vegetables. First, let’s talk about starchy vegetables. These are the veggies that will be the most forgiving as they often need a longer time to cook, but not all starches are created equal. Healthy Way To Cook Collard Greens chard and collard greens. Leafy vegetables are rich in carotenoids, which are beneficial to keeping eyes healthy. With this in mind, I’ve gathered 13 Epic Leafy Greens Recipes to help you eat your way … Kale may be the trendy green, but collard greens are my favorite dark, leafy greens. They are hearty and delicious; I love them raw and cooked. How To Cook Beef Healthy Healthy Ways To Cook Brown Rice Rice is a healthy food when prepared properly … If you don’t have any, then green or brown will do. Definitely do not use r… Brown rice, once the darling carb of the health conscious, is often overcooked and mushy … and ripe for reinvention. Here you’ll find 17 recipes that’ll take brown rice to another level. With generous amounts of fiber, protein and complex carbohydrates per serving, brown rice is certainly a healthy food to have in your … try adding calories to the rice in another way. You may want t… How To cook healthy roast potatoes How To Cook Healthy How To Cook Frozen Vegetables Healthy If you feel untethered eating-wise and uncomfortable in your clothes, and if you’ve sworn to yourself that you’d start gettin… We love this bright, healthy main-dish salad for … easy to put together when you have a stash of frozen shrimp at the ready … Who doesn’t apprecaite the convenience of frozen produce every once in a while? It’s ready to cook, requires zero prep, and there’s no risk of losing a finger while choppng away. Since it’s … Grilling vegetables is an easy way to add amazing flavor to the humble plants. Use these tips to cook delicious grilled vegetables. Move over, meat: it’s time to grill some vegetables. Vegetables cook quickly and are so delicious with just the hint of smoke from the grill. Plus, you don’t have to … Place a sieve, steaming pot or bamboo steaming basket over the simmering water. add the frozen vegetables and cover them with a lid. Allow the hot steam to cook the vegetables all the way through. Frozen Vegetables Are Hot! Chill out: Veggies from the freezer are fast, easy and convenient Starchy vegetables. First, let’s talk about starchy vegetables. These are the veggies that will be the most forgiving as they often need a longer time to cook, but not all starches are created equal. Healthy Way To Cook Collard Greens chard and collard greens. Leafy vegetables are rich in carotenoids, which are beneficial to keeping eyes healthy. With this in mind, I’ve gathered 13 Epic Leafy Greens Recipes to help you eat your way … Kale may be the trendy green, but collard greens are my favorite dark, leafy greens. They are hearty and delicious; I love them raw and cooked. How To Cook Beef Healthy Healthy Ways To Cook Brown Rice Rice is a healthy food when prepared properly … If you don’t have any, then green or brown will do. Definitely do not use r… Brown rice, once the darling carb of the health conscious, is often overcooked and mushy … and ripe for reinvention. Here you’ll find 17 recipes that’ll take brown rice to another level. With generous amounts of fiber, protein and complex carbohydrates per serving, brown rice is certainly a healthy food to have in your … try adding calories to the rice in another way. You may want t… How To cook healthy roast potatoes How To Cook Healthy Cube Steak No matter how you cook it, you’ll love this inexpensive and versatile cut of beef. Click “Launch Gallery” to see six easy cube steak recipes that I know you’ll want to try! How do you cook yours? I was going through my freezer and have two packages of cube steak. I’d love to go ahead and cook them but I don’t think I’ve ever made it before. I’d love to see any recipes yo… Cook until the meat is as done as you like—about 10 -20 minutes Cut in thin strips against the grain on a 45-degree angle to the cutting

Registered dietitian Katherine Shavo, will lead "Whole Grain Holidays" a healthy cooking and nutrition education class on November 12, 2013 at Let’s Cook Culinary Studio. More information at www.kshav…

Lining up plans in Charlotte? Whether you’re a local, new in town, or just passing through, you’ll be sure to find something on Eventbrite that piques your interest.

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demitgibbs · 6 years

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Coco Bambu: The Essense of Brazil in the Heart of South Beach

Coco Bambu may sound like the perfect moniker for a drag queen, but it’s actually a Brazilian restaurant chain that has developed quite a name for itself in the land of the Carioca. Featuring delicious scratch-made dishes, an extensive wine list, and lively Brazilian atmosphere, Coco Bambu promises to be “different than anything you’ve experienced before.”

Opened in 2017 at the corner of Alton Road and 10th Street in South Beach, Coco Bambu’s first U.S. outpost serves hard-to-find Brazilian delicacies in a relaxed, upscale atmosphere. The restaurant is massive, with outdoor seating, a huge bar in the center of the main-floor dining room, and another dining area upstairs. With room to seat hundreds at a time, reservations are recommended but not required.

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My husband Alan and I had the pleasure of dining at Coco Bambu recently to see for ourselves what the place is all about. I got things started with a Honolulu Caipiroska ($16) — think: Caipirinha but made with vodka instead of the traditional Brazilian cachaça. This version was made with macerated strawberries and pineapple with lime, ginger, and Belvedere vodka. The concoction was served in a tall glass over ice and was the perfect antidote to the oppressive heat and humidity we South Floridians put up with this time of year.

The appetizer menu has many highlights, including Sautéed Crab Meat ($21) and Coconut Shrimp ($18), but Alan and I decided to start things off with the Shrimp Pastels ($16) as well as the Crispy Calamari Rings ($16).

Coco Bambu got its start as a pastry shop in the Brazilian city of Fortaleza, so we were super-excited to sink our teeth into the pastels, which resemble little square empanadas. Made with a light and airy dough, the pastels were filled with shrimp and delicious cream cheese. One order has six pastels. If you aren’t a fan of shrimp, you can get them filled with lobster, beef, or just cheese.

The Crispy Calamari Rings were also tasty: no tentacles, all skinny rings, and served with a house tartar sauce, which was quite delicious. I spiced it up with their special creamy hot sauce that they serve on every table.

Diners have so many options for entrees that it was really hard to decide what to have for the main course. Coco Bambu offers individual options — that is, entrees that are portioned to serve just one person — and there are also family-style options that can be prepared to serve two or four. Fresh seafood and fish options abound as well as an impressive array of steaks, including bacon-wrapped Filet with Madeira Sauce for two ($82) or Picanha (sirloin tip) and Fried Rice ($58).

We decided we were going to split the Coco Bambu Shrimp ($41) for two as well as the Miso Sea Bass ($47). However, when we ordered, our waitress, who had made stellar recommendations up to that point, told us we were ordering too much, so we took her word for it and passed on the sea bass.

The description of the dish on the menu says: “creamy rice, peas, ham, mozzarella au gratin and shoestring fries.” It is served as a casserole with the creamy rice, peas, and ham on the bottom, the shrimp on top, and all of it smothered in cheese and topped with thinly cut potato sticks that get crispy and brown when they are baked. The piping hot concoction was more than enough for the two of us, and we both had some left over for lunch the next day.

Before we even ordered, I peeped the dessert menu and made sure we saved room for a sweet treat to finish the meal. It was a tough choice. Their signature dessert is Baked Cocada ($13), which is a cream coconut cake served with vanilla ice cream, and they also feature a homemade Creamy Banana Cake ($13).

But I was sold on the Dulce de Leche Lava Cake ($13) from the get-go, and I was not disappointed (Alan, on the other hand, was because I fought him off using my spoon like a sword). The delicious confection was a blondie-style cake filled to the brim with gooey dulce de leche and served with two scoops of vanilla ice cream. It’s a great twist on the classic chocolate lava cake and was the perfect ending to a delicious meal.

Coco Bambu features weekly specials throughout summer 2018. While the menu might seem pricey, portions are very generous, so a couple could easily get by with ordering an appetizer and an entrée and still leave satisfied. With daily happy hour pricing on drinks, Paella Night on Wednesdays featuring delicious fresh seafood over a bed of saffron rice for $27, and an all you can eat Feijoada ($27) from 1–3pm on Saturdays, you will not be disappointed no matter when you come.

Coco Bambu (955 Alton Rd, Miami Beach). Reservations recommended: 786-348 0770 or CocoBambu.com/USA.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/07/11/coco-bambu-the-essense-of-brazil-in-the-heart-of-south-beach/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/175814667870

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sandwichbully · 6 years

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Sandcastle, 23 June, and Colossal Cafe, 24 June 2018

The problem with being the sandwich bully - Is that what I am? I just thought it was the title I gave to this fuckjob blog but OK, whatever. The problem with being the sandwich bully is what happens when you have to deliver the negative review to the local business that absolutely nobody else has a problem with. I can slag off Subways and Chipotles all day every day eight ways from Sunday and nobody cares: Those are multi-billion dollar businesses that will not hurt from one bad review, especially not some dick-off number like Sandwich Bully. However, I stand to do greater damage to a local independent joint - or I would if this were a popular blog, I have no delusions regarding the small fry nature of this thing. And in that, you think my near anonymity would permit me license to say "Fuck this joint!" but it doesn't: Local business owners are concerned with how they're doing, what their public perception is; they Google their businesses not for the ego boost of the five star Yelp but to know what caused the two star complaint. At some point, they'll see me like I'm Tom Joad and they're my ma. And I'm also quite aware that one bad review is not going to shut a motherfucker down, is not going to lay off staff, is not going to result in a garden hose taken out to the garage in the middle of the night. I, as you may all understand by now, am a total jackoff. Nobody cares what I have to say. Well, until those two little words pop up: FOOD POISONING Yeah, that makes the meerkats pop their heads up out of their dens. "Food poisoning" in a local restaurant review may as well be "shots fired" on a police scanner, so I am super hesitant to use it but, in the case of last night's dining experience, food poisoning wasn't the only thing that me and GF were ultimately unhappy with. And as much as I don't want to write a shitty (pardon the pun) review about a lakeside snack stand, I'm also inclined to tell the truth. You don't come here for me to not tell the truth. Sometimes you come here for stories like the time I climbed a tree to get away from Magic Walter's drunk horny aunt who just got out of prison. Sometimes you come here for stories like the time Tim Evans got a DUI for passing out drunk in the Taco Bell drive thru. Sometimes you come here for stories like the time I had to drive my first ex's dad to the airport to pick up his mail order bride in a car without a working speedometer. Sometimes you come here for stories like the time I fucked a spy. But I assume you don't come here for lies. You come here for the truth. So here it goes. Also, this is the first hotdog post on a blog that claims that hotdogs are sandwiches.

Last night, GF wants to go get a paddle boat and says there's this place next to the paddle boat joint that we can get a quick dinner at and I say that, yeah, I've seen that place. Been meaning to check it out. I Google it and the little thing that tells you how busy it gets says about a half hour wait. How the - What are they - Is it like a Michelin star bistro or - Let me look at the menu. GF says, "They just do burgers and hotdogs." I says, "I can look at the menu, though, right?" GF tolerates this because - Actually, I don't know why she tolerates this. Maybe she just lost the receipt. So, red flag: Their menu link wasn't working last night but that wasn't a big deal. It's burgers and franks. How hard can my decision be once we get there? But in my effort to jab my phone with my thumb at least ten times trying to open the fucking menu, I forgot completely why I had tried to look at the menu in the first place: The half hour wait. We get there and GF wants to check on the paddle boats because the place closes at nine and then she sees the large stock of paddle boats and says she's not worried so we walk over to Sandcastle. Line's about five deep. I eye the menu and see the Nokomis Dog, a slawdog with hot peppers. We're on Lake Nokomis, why would I get anything else? And I like slawdogs. GF wants a BLT and to split an order of fries. We each get a beer. We're handed a little buzzy light up thing that'll tell us when our order is ready. We get a spot on the grass and then eventually some proper seating over looking the lake. And then? We wait. I'm not going to drag it out for dramatic effect: That half hour ETA Google gave me wasn't a joke. It seemed to take forever for our food to be ready. Actually, it kind of did. It took long enough that, though we arrived at about sevenish, we totally missed the deadline for the last paddle boat rental at eight while we were just finishing up our meal. Bear in mind the number of factors: We get there about sevenish, ish, we get in a five deep line with a bunch of Eden Prairie fuckos (likely in for a big night in the city) who don't know what they want while they are at the register - one guy changed his order at least four times and I wanted to kick him in the fucking nuts, then there was the part where Google warned us about the very real half hour wait but still, GF said it: "It's a hotdog and a BLT," which earns her the gold star: A hotdog and a BLT shouldn't take a half hour to make. So, all told, we're looking at roughly about forty minutes from arrival to getting our order. And that is ridiculous: I don't care how popular you are, I don't care what night of the week it is, I don't care about your prime lakeside real estate, I don't care about your first / summer jobs for underskilled teenagers, it shouldn't take forty minutes from the time you get in line to the time you get a hotdog and a BLT. When that happened to us at Broder's? I kind of got that. Upscale, out of the way, Italian eatery, safe money is on making a reservation. This is a fuckin' hotdog stand. Even if it does serve shrimp tacos, it's a hotdog stand. Now let's get to the hotdog. GF asked me how it was. I told her there was a lot of bun. The frank was skinnier than what I'd get from a pack of Babars, the bun was big and fluffy and overwhelming, the slaw was just cabbage and (I'm guessing) Hellman's, and whatever those pepperettes were, they weren't hot, they were slightly sour and not really interesting. Think I paid five bucks for it. There are still worse things I've paid five dollars for. [cough Arby's gyro cough] Asked GF about her BLT. She said, "It's kind of hard to mess up a BLT. I just don't get why it took a half hour." True, boo. True. Anyway, GF is a little bummed that we can't get a paddle boat but we go for a little walk around the lake instead. On the way back to the car, I tell her we're going to need to go right back to her place. She asks why and I tell her I refuse to use a park bathroom. And then a little knock at my backdoor and I tell her, "NOPE! Not going to make it!" and I hand her my bag and pinch-butt run to the men's room. One toilet. Flip-flop-shod foot with a toe ring visible under the stall wall. And I wait. And I try to look nonchalant like I'm not about to shit in the sink if Toe Ring can't move things along a little faster. Toilet flushes. A woman comes out of the stall. "I'm sorry -" I move by her. "- there was no toilet paper in the women's room -" "I'm really not bothered by this," as I enter the stall. "- so I had to come in here and squat -" "OK!" "- it's kind of gross in there." I've seen worse but we're totally laying down the toilet paper triangle. I hear a dad come in and ask his kid about the urinal. "Is that too high or do you need the toilet?" Before the kid can answer, I very audibly defecate and the dad realizes what's going on and asks the kid, "How about I just hold you up so you can go?” Oh, I'm sorry. You're squigged out by this story of acute onset diarrhea in a public place? Yeah, you just have to read about it. I had to live through it. Long story short, I get in the car, GF asks me if I'm OK enough for her to detour to Cold Stone Creamery, I tell her, "Uh..." and she says that's OK and we go back to her place where she gives me permission to Hiroshima her bathroom so long as I light the scented candle in there. It was bad. I then settle my stomach with a carton of Goldfish, salt content be damned. If I give the place any positive points, those points go to their friendly staff. But the food itself, discounting the ensuing carnage but still taking the obscene wait into consideration, was a let down. The frank was meh, the slaw was tangy but not really all that crisp (and also the most likely suspect concerning the gastrointestinal Nagasaki), the peppers were, uh, there, I don't know what they were doing but they were there, and there was a whole lot of fluffy white bun. It was the majority of it. It wasn't worth the money or the wait and I'm pretty sure I'd say the same thing if the My Lai Massacre hadn't occurred inside my guts.

By the way, you like how all those references were awful things the American military did to Asian people? Kind of like how we put them in internment camps? Like we're doing now to Latinx folks? Yeah, I'm using this space to say ABOLISH ICE. Even a dumbass sandwich blog in some backwater like Minneapolis has stronger political convictions than Taylor Swift. That was an unnecessary dig at T-Swift. I'm sure she'll shake it off. NEXT!

This morning, still with warbly guts, I show GF that latest Bon Appetit video of Carla Lalli Music doing a back-to-back chef with Miz Cracker. That makes GF hungry. We go to brunch at Colossal Cafe and I'm fully prepared to do biscuits and gravy, having looked at the menu before heading over there. (Sandwich Bully: Showing Up Prepared For Shit Like A Fucking Man Since - OK, So Really Only Like In The Last Year And A Half Did I Start Looking At The Menu Before Going Someplace But, Believe Me, It Saves Oodles Of Time Once You Get There.) The place is packed, it takes at least five minutes before the maitre d - who totally gave me Miss Tanner vibes (tell me you get that reference) - gets to us, I ask for a table for two outside, we're seated outside, we are assigned a harried but polite server - the kind that probably hates the shift but loves the tips - and we are right away brought GF's Coke and my English Breakfast Tea - described on the menu as "tippy", whatever the fuck that means. By the time our server makes a second visit, GF knows what she wants, which is what I had wanted: Biscuits and gravy. But, you see, they made the mistake of handing me my menu lunch side up and there it was, staring at me, singing in a Nina Hagen voice with a cacophonous orchestra behind her, "I fucking dare you to ignore me, motherfucker." Reuben, you cruel bitch-temptress, we meet again. OK. OK. You want to do this? You want to play? We can play. We can play all day. Reuben, Rachael, one time I saw you listed on the menu as a Rebecca, I don't give a fuck what your fucking name is or how you self-identify, you son of a bitch! You're going in my fucking belly! Kiss my ass! I got that with a Caesar salad on the side because the other two options were chips or "cafe salad" and I'm not trying to find out about "cafe salad". We got our orders in less than ten minutes considering there was an admittedly smaller but still full house - inside was elbow to elbow and the patio was brought to occupancy about five minutes after we were seated - and an advertised as Made From Scratch menu of entrées more advanced than hotdogs and shrimp tacos. Slightly, just slightly inconvenient wait to be seated, totally prompt reception of our orders. And how were our dishes?' GF didn't really describe the biscuits and gravy beyond "hitting the spot" and that she "needed that". She told me my sandwich looked pretty and asked what went on one, anyway. Colossal doesn't fuck around and try to make it "signature" with some weirdo variation. Instead, they corn their own beef (shredded on this sandwich, something I can't recall seeing before), probably ferment their own kraut, I'd be surprised if they made their own Swiss, they straight up tell you on the menu they make the thousand island in-house, and they bake their own black rye bread. I told her, "Corned beef, Swiss, sauerkraut, thousand island." I asked if she wanted me to cut her off a bite and then I was like, "Wait. We fucking kiss each other all the time. I am thirty seven years old. 'Cut her off a bite’? Grow the fuck up." I hand her the sandwich and she took a bite and she said, "Tangy." You know what? Pretty apt descriptor: Tangy. The thousand island and the kraut are a competent and balanced tag team, neither overshadowing the other, even though this is a Reuben so they would normally pretty much overshadow everything else. The corned beef is savory and paired well with the creaminess of the that's-not-Sysco Swiss and this is where I realize Swiss' place on the Reuben: When somebody uses a high quality Swiss. The creaminess of the cheese is meant to pair with the umami of the meat while the high-pitched lactic tang of Swiss is meant to bridge the flavor profile over to the sweet & sour kraut/dressing combo. I just never knew it, just always figured that it was meant for bullshit "stretchiness" factor or some other shit honky chicks Swifties dig. But that was because this whole time, people were handing me Sysco Swiss. Somebody took the time to use a premium Swiss and it's like, shit, now I get it. Like when I went to Broder's and had quality provolone. My entire life, just had Sysco provolone. Never knew. And here, a revelation: Swiss, good, quality Swiss, will prove to you that there is a true function for its presence on the Reuben. This, and I'm going on record here, Kafe Nasty, take a memo, upsets the Reuben ranking in Minneapolis. Tiny Diner has been the favorite for about a year now because of how smoky and complex their corned beef is. When you can make a meat that steals the show from the kraut/dressing combo, you lead the pack. But their cheese didn't bring much to the table except that stretch game. Colossal Cafe's Reuben changes things because their sandwich isn't meat versus condiments, the Swiss there is noticeable and in its presence creates a harmonious Reuben, the Reuben you didn't know about until now or, you know, did know if you've been there before me. It's a tough call because all Tiny Diner would have to do to have a perfect Reuben, one without competing flavors - this isn't some kind of metaphor, goddamn, this is real - is step up their Swiss game. Meanwhile, Colossal's corned beef is good, better than great, but lacks that smoky depth that Tiny imbues their brisket with. The call gets tougher when you consider that the elements play nicely together as they are. If you altered the meat's recipe would it still get bridged to the condiments via the Swiss? And that begs the question of whether better Swiss really would work at Tiny. Paradox! It's a tough call and that they make their ingredients from scratch puts - hold on to your butts - Cecil's on notice. I'm fucking saying it. Cecil's is on notice. (They admittedly have their meats shipped in.) Until I get this shit figured out in my head, every Reuben making motherfucker I know is unsafe. Reubens, Rachaels, you weird motherfuckers with Rebeccas, whatever those are, Rhondas, Randies, Robbies, RuPauls, I don't give a fuck. Everybody (who gives a shit about a next-to-non-existent lunch blog) is on notice. Colossal changed the game, OK? I'm sorry but y'all been fuckin' up on your Sysco crutch. My Caesar salad? Fresh greens, plenty of cheese, creamy dressing, crutons that were firm but not Cap'n' Crunching your mouth. Probably the best Caesar salad I've ever had. I'll say that. Not as big a deal as this Reuben, though. Then I got the itis and then I got the squitters because I wasn't done being sick from last night, so I laid down and watched a movie with GF that my first ex told me to watch but I was like "Nah." So I finally saw that. Go to Colossal, tell me I'm wrong. Also abolish ICE.

#2018 #keewaydin #standish #hotdog #reuben

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