Oh I am loathing this American-ification of everything.
I got an early appointment in the city tomorrow and I figured hey, why not treat myself to breakfast afterward. And since I hate walking into a place, seeing the menu and thinking "nope" and having to walk out again, I figured I'd look it up online first.
I've looked through the menus of ten cafés now and only found two that actually have... normal German breakfast.
Every other place has shit like avocado toast, "breakfast bowls" (stop putting all foods into one bowl I am biting you, meals belong on plates), American pancakes with maple syrup, bagels, porridge, hummus (for breakfast?!).
And look, I am not objecting to also including trendy American foods on your menu, but if these are the only options you offer and I can't find a single traditional German breakfast on your menu, then that is just... devastating, to me.
If you're a gimmick café that is specifically American cuisine, that would also be different, but a regular, German café needs to offer a regular, German breakfast.
It should absolutely include at the very-fucking-least the most basic German breakfast platter - bread rolls, hard-boiled egg, marmalade, butter, wurst and/or cheese, and the option to pay more for salmon or a croissant. That's the basic "I am going out to have breakfast at a café" menu. The one on every breakfast menu, for as long as I can remember going out for breakfast.
I can acknowledge that for reasons beyond my personal taste, people really love avocados. But if your menu includes three variations of avocado toast but not a single cheese or wurst option - and you are not an explicitly vegan place, like, there is bacon on this menu too - then something is just really, really fucked up here.
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It was my grandma's 90th birthday party on Saturday and we had a buffet with all sorts of stuff. At the end, there was some leftover salmon and prawns (among other things) which I wrapped and took home.
Bought some puff pastry (because I've made my own before and it is far more time than I currently have), cream, and spinach to make it into a pie. I'm quite happy with how it turned out :)
Despite her age, my grandma always bakes (and then loves to complain about how much it makes her knees hurt afterwards!). One of my favourite things she does is salmon tarts whenever she has leftover salmon. That was the main inspiration for this recipe.
Ingredients
- Puff pastry (I used two packs of premade stuff with a little left over)
- 1/2 onion
- 1 clove of garlic
- a bag of fresh baby leaf spinach
- a fresh salad tomato
- leftover poached salmon, smoked salmon, and prawns (shrimp)
- thyme, salt, pepper
- Worcester sauce (Lee and Perrins is the best)
- 300ml of double cream
- a bit of cheese (optional)
Recipe
1. Preheat an oven to gas 4 (177°C/350°F).
2. Line a pie dish with puff pastry, leaving a little extra around the edges to account for shrinking. Put a sheet of baking paper on top and cover with baking beans (I used split peas because that's what we have). Put this into the oven and set a timer for 10 ish minutes (you want the pastry to be partially cooked).
3. Finely dice half an onion and add to a saucepan over medium heat. Grate in some garlic (or mince it if you aren't as lazy as me!). Fry until translucent.
4. Add a bunch of spinach and allow it to wilt. Dice a tomato and add it too.
5. Add salt, pepper, thyme, and a dash of Worcester sauce along with around 300ml of double cream. More can be added later to taste.
6. Once simmering, add the salmon and prawns (I also had a little tiny bit of smoked salmon) and heat through.
7. By this point, the pastry should be partially cooked. Remove it from the oven, remove the baking beans (O.E), and pour the sauce into the pie. Turn the oven up to gas 7 (220°C/425°F).
7.5. Before giving the pie a lid, I grated a bunch of red Leicester on top of the filling as I was slightly short of filling and didn't want the lid to sag. This is optional, but experiment with whatever you feel might work.
8. Lay more puff pastry on top of the pie and crimp the edges. You can also score the top to give it a fancy pattern, and egg-wash to seal and glaze if you can be bothered (I couldn't).
9. Put the pie back in the oven for a further 10-15 minutes, or until the pastry is golden.
10. Leave to cool before serving, and enjoy!
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So I haven't made many garden updates because of my mental health, I went into survival mode for a bit, but now things are looking up, so I have things to share!
The garden has started producing zuchinnis monstrously, I've somehow managed to get more than 6 zuchinni plants which is a Mistake and I should have known better. I've ran out of ideas so I've been looking online for recipes and then I found this video, which I believe is the most sinful video ever created, if you're into women and wanting to get severely tempted then and only then watch this.
I've managed to get poisoned again, nobody is surprised, but this time I didn't do anything except eat food that was more than 24hrs old, I thought it would be fine, it didn't taste like it went completely bad, it was more like, on the edge. I think it happened because I put raw chives in it, and it was like, a blended soup, so maybe I just shouldn't do that. It took me 2 days to recover, I'm alright now.
The rest of the garden is doing so bad it's kinda funny, I haven't been taking care of it like usual, and I've found myself not having enough seeds of everything I've wanted, like green beans, peas, potatoes, so I've decided to plant what I have, only to get seeds, without actually eating those things. I also want to learn to grow potatoes and onions out of seeds, I've never done it before but I'm very excited at the prospect! My potatoes are not currently flowering but I saw a big field of potatoes and they all had flowers, so I'm planning to just sneak in there and steal a few potato fruits - nobody here is growing potatoes from seed anyway and the fruits are very poisonous. (I will not eat them don't worry).
I've gotten a decent harvest of garlic, I'm very happy with it! I got above expectations amount of chamomile, and I got gifted a whole lot of thyme. I'm in the process of drying strawberries for winter and I love how much I've got already. Next zuchinnis to get harvested will get dried too, and then finally, I'll dry cherry tomatoes as well. I can't wait to have a stash of dried goods again, they were invaluable last winter.
My tomatoes are looking pretty bad this summer, and that's not usually the case, I wonder if it's the bad weather, or I just haven't done enough fertilizing this year. I've gotten a few tiny ones from my balcony, where I'm having a few dwarf tomatoes grow, but they've also been doing bad, and they seem to be dying already. Peppers are still tiny little things and I only hope that eventually they start to grow properly. Beans, on the other hand, are doing great, they've taken their space and they're ruling their lands, climbing up to the skies and creating tons of produce. I'm checking every day to see when I can start a harvest, I would absolutely love some beans.
I feel like this year is a preparation more than a great gardening year; the beans will fertilize my soil, the lessons I've learned about planting in strawberry beds will help me do a better job next year, the tiny amount of green beans and peas I've planted will give me the seeds to plant big amounts next year, and if I learn to grow onions and potatoes from seed, the next year I will have more than enough, and I will have the knowledge to keep producing these things forever, without ever having to worry about seeds again.
If anyone has recipes for zuchinni that only require potatoes, flour, garlic and spices, I'd love to know! I have poisoned myself with soup so I have to hit the pause on that. Once I get tomatoes and peppers it will be pizza time!
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"I'm not leaving you behind! It is my duty," he hissed. "I swore myself-"
"Your swore yourself because you had no choice, Percy." Her eyes were endless dark, devoid of feeling, of life. "You had a price to pay for your mother's life and this was your only offer." Her thin fingers cup his face through the bars. "You didn't choose to be my protector." She gave a weak laugh that made his stomach plummet to the floor. "You're not even my guard yet, not really."
Like a phantom, her touch slid down his cheek. He caught her wrist before her fingertip stopped gracing his skin. He could feel the rounded edge of her fingernail poke against him. Silence held fraught between them.
"Bianca-"
"Percy," she cut in, voice so sharp it cut him to the core. "I want you to survive. You're free. Take advantage of that, and go. Now."
"I can't go back without you," he said, quickly. She didn't fight his hold, but still his grip tightened. As though the harder he held her, the more she would stop protesting her escape. "You are-"
"Dead." Her lips thinned. "I'm dead, Percy. I was dead the moment they got their hands on me and I will be dead before either one of us even makes it beyond these walls, but you-" Her voice cracked, eyes watering.
He shook his head. Blood pounded in his ears. He didn't want to hear what she was going to say, wanted her to stop, wanted it all to stop. Just for a moment.
But it didn't, and neither did she. With a deep breath, she carried on, "You can make it. You can live. But only if you leave without me, so go."
His lungs burned. She inhaled so deeply, spoke so forcefully, and it made him hold the air in his chest until he couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't breathe, maybe she would. But his chest ached. Self-loathing wedged itself like a rock in his throat as he let go. The sound of his own breath was like nail on chalkboard.
"Percy," she whispered. He shook his head and leaned in closer. Although tears hadn't yet fallen, her eyes were still wet. They glistened like the night sky. Her forehead pressed against the bars.
He looked away. The brick wall to his left was growing a fair bit of moss in the corner. "What's our star again?"
She laughed. It was a watery thing that choked him where he stood. Memories of standing the long grass, moonlight shining off the river, while she read her books beside him. Every so often, she'd look up at the night sky and search for the brightest star that month. She'd tell the stories behind the constellations. Or at least the stories from her kingdom. Any time she told a story, a fantastical myth, she'd follow up that her brother knew more - Nico, the quiet prince with a voracious appetite for legends and monsters.
Then, if she could spot the brightest star that month and if she recalled, she'd tell him what it meant for the people born that month. At least, in their hemisphere anyway. The stars were different elsewhere. Sometimes she'd crack open the newspaper, the stark image of her father, and read aloud the horoscopes.
He still remembered the incredulous sound she made when he told her they shared the same birthday. She'd dragged him to the library to refresh her memory on their star. Then argued furiously that he did not share the same traits as her.
It was a silly thing. She didn't believe it. He didn't either. But it was the first time they hadn't played the stiff act of royal princess and her knight-in-training. Not Percy holding his tongue and following strictly one step behind. Not Bianca doing her best to pretend he wasn't her shadow.
Awkward civility and stiffness carried thick between them from the moment Percy had been casted into his role. But that night, with the sound of yelling and laughter still echoing in their ears, they made an agreement. They didn't have to be the best of friends, but they sure could be casual with each other. After all, they were going to be stuck with each other for the rest of their lives.
At least... they were supposed to be.
Slowly each finger detached one by one until all that was left was his palm pressed against her wrist. Then that fell away too. Still he couldn't bare to turn his head and face her.
"Leo," she said. "The lion. Strength, pride, loyalty, confidence."
A stabbed orange toy on new year's day passed through his mind. "Sacrifice."
It was quiet for a beat. Then, "Yes." His heart hammered so fast he could feel it in his throat. "The lion represents sacrifice."
What was he supposed to say? He wanted to run, to turn the lock with the key he stole, take her and run. Run far and fast. But deep inside, he knew she was right. He could get by undetected. No one cared about a child knight, not even yet passed his training. He could blend in and slip out. Even if he got caught, they wouldn't nearly put in as much effort to get him back as they would if she were with him.
She was right.
She was already dead.
He swallowed thickly and met her eyes again. The night sky glistened back at him and he thought of constellations and warm handshakes and kind agreements and silly arguments. Breath caught in his throat. "I'll miss you," he whispered, voice hoarse.
Her lips twitched. "I'll miss you too." She blinked, and one tear slid down her cheek. He tracked the wet trace it left behind until it welled up at the bottom of her chin and dripped to the floor. "Will you do me a favour?"
"You're my princess," he said. "I would do anything for you."
It was a weak smile she gave before she spoke. The sight of it crushed him. "Tell my family I love them." Her breath escaped from her shakily. She pushed back her hair. A classic move to hide the nerves that drove her hands to tremble ever so slightly. "And take care of Nico. Please."
"I will," he promised.
Her smile strengthened ever so slightly. But the tears fell fast now, one right after the other. Her face tilted away at the first streak. He immediately turned his line of sight back to the brick wall. Weakness, sadness, grief - she hated being seen with any of them. He always respected it. Look away until she was done. Don't speak, don't ask her anything, don't help her. Just look away and stay silent unless she calls out.
So, even as his mind's eye was trapped in the wet track of tears on her skin, the hitched sound of her breath holding in a cry, he turned and headed back for the dungeon's door. The doorknob twisted in his hand. The door cracked open.
"Percy."
He held stiff. "Yes?"
"Don't forget the bracelet."
Heat burned at the back of his head. In his pocket, the bracelet felt heavier than the weight of the world. When he had first arrived, she gave it to him. When he refused to take it, insistent that she could deliver it to Nico herself, she shoved it into his pocket herself. Like a ghostly stain, his thigh still tingled with the forceful and firm press of her hand. He was sure it always would.
"I won't."
"Stay safe," she said, a princess in a dungeon ready and waiting to die.
His heart shattered. Still, he kept his head held high. "I will."
Then, without another word, he left the girl he had spent the last three years training to protect. He was meant to die for her. It was the role he had accepted the night he and his friends had stormed the castle and pleaded for help with his dying mother. He didn't argue. He didn't plead. Without hesitation, he swore his life away for hers. Without hesitation, he swore his last breath would be hers.
Yet she was the one embracing the eternal coldness to come. She was the one breathing weakly so he could breathe strong. She was trading away her life for his. She was the lion, giving a mighty roar before the dawn of a new year. She was the sacrifice, held down by chains with a glistening sharp blade raised above her head.
But he wasn't the one lowering it upon her neck. No, he was the cold breath of winter. The first drop of snow. The wilting grass. He was the barren wasteland that drove her out into the open. He was the starving masses desperate to live. He didn't have to drop the blade. He didn't have to use his own hands to spill her blood across the ground. His survival was her end. And that made him her killer anyway.
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