Hot take I’m a massive tea drinker who breaks every rule. I don’t heat it to a specific temp. I don’t time it when I steep. I sweeten it (with monkfruit drops) before I taste it because no I’m not gonna taste something that was boiling three minutes ago how about YOU burn your tongue off. I don’t even much care if I steep it too long. I will mix and match whatever I feel like when I fill the steeper I’m just out here making experiments with tossing in lemon zest or a piece of ginger I don’t give a fuck. If I don’t think the tea is strong enough I grab a White Emperor (racist much) bag from the cabinet and toss it in next to the steeper. I like adding weird shit like cocoa powder or vanilla and not just to rooibos either.
I don’t even care how big the mug is I’m filling it to the brim if it’s not enough tea I’ll add more or steep it longer. I’m a fucking rebel.
I like cold brew tea just as much as hot tea. In fact, if I make hot tea and forget about it long enough to become cold, great. Now I have a cold drink. Delicious.
And you know what??????? I still think 90% of teas taste the same. I’ll still drink them but I don’t have much preference as long as it’s not green tea or peppermint because I’m very allergic to those. I mean I’m often allergic to a lot of the ingredients I sprinkle in but I mean peppermint literally melts my insides and leaves me bleeding for days but green tea turns me into an inflatable non-fun house and it hurts so bad.
But like. Yeah. I got a lot of things wrong with me, but my insistence to drinking something that I believe 90% of the time tastes basically the same??? Lmao.
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Kirigiri's profile says she hates coriander
Do you think she just really hates the flavor or is she one of those people with a genetic disposition that causes cilantro and the like to taste like soap?
Could see it either way. She lived in L.A. for a while when she was little, and considering how much cilantro is in Latino cooking...
I always forget about that fact, my real question about it has been what they’re technically referring to. Because coriander could also be the spice, which is used on curry, stews, and meats so she could find that in L.A. too. But it would be hilarious if she did think cilantro tastes like soap so I’d be 100% for that
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cilantro
Another deleted scene fic! This one takes place between Coushatta and Wiedersehen! Tagging @dolly-macabre, @lokisinsurrection, @seraphtrevs, @lady-writes-flanagan, @jugem13, @sword-day, @slainmanca and @cooked-out-euro-trash 🖤
READ ON AO3
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"You got a shovel I can borrow, Ignacio?"
They were on the road when Lalo asked, and Nacho gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter. All he knew about this man was his name. Salamanca. That was enough to set him on edge. They'd known each other less half an hour, and they were driving uptown now, and Nacho had no idea what to think. All he could say was, "In the trunk." Were they going to bury a body already?
Lalo's voice pulled him from his thoughts, saying, "Turn left here."
Nacho did as he was told. Just play the dutiful henchman, he told himself. His knuckles were white. You got this. Unsure he wanted to know the answer, he asked, "Where're we going, anyway?"
"The nursery."
That wasn't what he expected. Unable to stop himself, Nacho asked, "You got a kid up here?"
Lalo gave him a brief wide-eyed look before he laughed, a warmer sound that Nacho had expected. "No, man!" There was a twinkle of amusement light up his dark, dark eyes. They were softer than his uncle's eyes, and Nacho did his best not to fixate on that. "A plant nursery!"
That was what the shovel was for, then. Nacho tried and failed to fight back a sigh of relief. "For herbs," he realized aloud. "Because you cook."
Still smiling, Lalo aimed a finger gun at him. "Exactly! You couldn't pay me to cook with the dried stuff. Tastes terrible." He wrinkled his nose as he said it. "Gonna get some pepper plants, too, maybe onions." He turned his gaze out the window again, drumming his fingers against its edge in time with the song playing softly over the radio. He'd turned the thing on the moment Nacho had turned the engine over. "Might be here for a while."
Nacho's stomach sank. He asked, "Are you taking over for Don Hector?" He normally wouldn't have bothered with the title, but he didn't know Lalo well enough to know if that was safe or not.
"Could be," Lalo said. He didn't sound bothered by the idea, either. How could he be so immediately comfortable so far from home? "Might be here until Tuco gets out, unless I can find someone else to run everything until then."
Nacho's stomach may well have been in his shoes when they finally pulled into the parking lot of the plant nursery. It was just a massive greenhouse, and it smelled of fresh dirt even before they stepped through the doors. It was muggy inside, occupied by a jungle of plants and huge stacks of bagged soils and pots and watering cans.
"Gonna need your help moving shit," Lalo was saying as he strode over to the selection of herbs that sat against the back wall of the greenhouse. "There's a lot we gotta grab." When Nacho moved to follow him, though, he added, "Three bags of soil, loamy, organic."
It took a moment for Nacho to process the order, but they parted ways there. He wasn't sure what loamy meant, but he found a few bags of soil marked with the label among the piles of their like, hefting them up and carrying them over to where Lalo was kneeling to inspect beds of herbs.
He glanced up from the basil plant he was studying, grinning and saying, "Look at you!" He rose from his knees, dusting off his trousers. "With arms like that, we'll make a gardener of you yet, eh, Nachito?" Lalo reached for one of the plants, plucking a single leaf and crushing it between his fingers. He held it out to Nacho, asking, "What do you think?"
Though he hesitated, Nacho clutched the bags of soil to his chest, leaning in to smell the crushed leaf. He said, "It's cilantro."
Lalo lifted his eyebrows. "But what does it smell like?"
Nacho wasn't sure how to answer. He shrugged. "Fresh," was the best he could do. "Kinda citrusy."
Tossing the leaf aside, Lalo said, "Smells like soap to me."
"You got that gene?" Why did that make Nacho feel superior? He only smiled when Lalo turned away from him again to check out a sad-looking oregano plant.
"Whole family does!" The reply came on a laugh. "A few of us're actually mildly allergic to it, but don't tell 'em I told you."
Nacho wondered, briefly, if you could kill a man with cilantro.
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exciting news! the kel dor conlang lexicon is at almost 1000 words apparently!
some fav recent additions:
gadinai — (vb.) // — to celebrate uproariously; to riot; [colloquial] to really lose one’s shit
kayamassi — (vb.) // — to persist, to keep going; largely used for encouragement, esp. cheering for a favourite sports team: kayamassi ge!
kolmagel — (n.) // — atmospheric pressure-sense, housed in the sensory horns (kolmi); air pressure
kyaogheran — (n.) // — warm outer garment similar to a poncho or a greatkilt, often woven with symbolic patterns or embroidered to show clan or village loyalties
nolna — (n.) // — heat-inducing spices as a class; a plant which produces chemicals kel dor perceive as spicy (and other species perceive as disgusting)
tsipangiri — (vb.) // — to have faith in a person; to be emotionally intimate with someone, to trust them with the details of your life (compare angiri, to simply trust someone to do their damn job)
tvaoruni — (vb.) // — to be at a standstill, to stagnate; [colloquial] to be bored comatose
uani karaak — (n.) // — a spirit of the sea mist said to appear in the guise of one’s loved ones to lead unwary travellers into the sea
zaygeli — (vb.) // — to make sweet, to cover with sugar; [colloquial] to sweeten a deal, to bribe, to entice with rewards, to go out of one’s way to be nice (in hope of reward, it is implied)
zikulikan — (n.) // — ceremonial dances performed on festival days; different dances are performed by different groups, and those performed by the Baran Dao can last for hours or even days.
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