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blackbelliedwoman · 1 year

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Mama Jiu week fic:

In honour of Mama Jiu week 2020 :)

Emptiness

Summary :

Patching some pieces of the past, to the present.

Shen Jiu went into labour several hours ago. While he’s held hostage by this beautiful but horrific feeling called “nostalgia”, he can’t help but lets his head be filled with messy thoughts.

Extract :

It grew on him like some vivid tints on a bland canvas. Slowly expanding its way from his heart to his brain. Recalculating the whole purpose of his life from every corner of his frame. And this new feeling taking shape tingles every pore on his skin.

For the first time in his entire life, the desire to keep on living submerged his being. Or rather, the desire to keep on trying to sustain this body he never wanted to, in the first place.

Partway between a scream and a groan, Shen Jiu's voice raises as he doubles over. Mere seconds after the last one fell, another contraction hits him, forcing his nails to seep in the hard mattress.

Now that he finally decides to remain among the living, the thing lodging in his belly says the perfect opposite?

Being an entire jerk for eight months straight wasn’t enough as it appears.

From making him spew out everything that even a grain of rice couldn’t pass down his oesophagus, to laying thrice into a pool of blood. Was all that not worth it? Why would this thing, at present, makes him suffer as if he was pierced by thousand arrows in a row?

No time to wonder: it’s Luo Binghe's offspring after all.

Shen Jiu straightens his neck when a little hand rubs his back. The corridors of his individual wing have been quite noisy from dusk to dawn. If it wasn’t for Shen Jiu’s breathy lamentations, it was the servants carrying bowls of white congee, boiled water and heavy quilts to replace the bloodstained ones every so often.

Of all these helpers moving in and out of the room, this tiny hand could belong to only one. The smallest bean of all the servants he knew in the Wolf clan. The youngest child, if he recalls well, of the Rat clan. Six-balls.

“Please, don’t hold your breath Third spouse.” Pleads the kid while passing a trembling damp cloth on his forehead, “Please, keep on breathing.” He adds before his voice rises again, “At least if Third spouse wants to die, this lowly beg Third spouse to die when Young Master is here! ”

“Shut your silly trap.” Orders Shen Jiu, shutting his eyelids tight to condone the pain from taking the entirety of his pallid face.

Six-balls slaps both of his palms on his mouth.

Of course, to Shen Jiu's hugest misfortune, it doesn’t last long. Does Six-balls even go short on saliva? Strangely enough, it’s reminding him of a certain someone. “Third spouse doesn’t want to lie down? Maybe it will appease Third spouse a little.”

After a quick cold glance, Six-balls finally gets it: he should definitely zip it. Or not.

“Does Third spouse need me to fan his face ?”

The kid’s fingers slightly tremors when a weak yelp unsettles itself from Shen Jiu’s lips. The pressure on his pelvic area increased, stretching hurriedly to his back as he finds himself asking Six-balls to put him back to bed. He should have listened to him sooner. Maybe he was true, maybe laying down would ease his pain. Or walking would be better? But he tried to walk right now, and apart from awaking spurts of cramps in his lower parts, it lead to nothing.

The child grasps the big man's arm and then, forcefully draws it to his side. Failure. Shen Jiu is not moving an inch. Another tentative. Tentative which, obviously failed too since Six-balls falls back. Why is he even counting on a seven years old body to help lift not only his body but also a miniature human inside?

“This one will go ask for help!”

Soon after, the sound of footsteps lighted out.

Eyes closed, Shen Jiu tries to slow his breathing. Mimicking the content of the book he read. He starts by inhaling deeply, holding it for a while, and then emptying both lungs as if blowing on a candle. His teeth clench. It. Does. Nothing. Not even easing the sensation of his limbs getting ripped off him and less with making him think about something else.

Does the kid really wish for his death?

It’s true he never wished for this in the first place, however, this type of punishment is too hard on him. And strangely enough, he’s finally happy he’s never done this kind of thing with Yue Qingyuan. This thought swept in a tinge of remembering.

#archive of our own #ao3 stuff #svsss #mamajiu #shen jiu #luo binghe #svsss fic #mpeg #ok now i sleep #goodnight #pregnant shen jiu #lbhxsj #mamajiufic #writing #creative writing #mxtx fanart #mxtx #fic writing #bingjiu

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cryptocurrancy · 1 month

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savoryalchemy · 3 months

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Congee Recipe: Comforting Rice Porridge for a Nourishing Meal! 🍚🥣

Discover the ultimate congee recipe—a comforting rice porridge that's customizable, nourishing, and perfect for anyoccasio! 🍚🥣✨

Cook Time: 1 hour 30 minutes

Ingredients: 🌾 1 cup long-grain rice 🍗 4 cups chicken broth 💦 4 cups water 🧄 3 cloves garlic, minced 🧅 1-inch piece fresh ginger, grated 🧂 Pinch of salt 🥄 Soy sauce, to taste 🌱 Chopped green onions, for garnish 🧅 Fried shallots, for garnish 🌿 Sesame oil, for drizzling

Recipe :

Asian Cuisine : https://lnkd.in/eg2fYwAk Comfort Food : https://lnkd.in/e5ANCNbv Congee Recipe : https://lnkd.in/eEMS8mXD Easy recipe : https://lnkd.in/eZ7zQfdi Homemade Goodness : https://lnkd.in/e3iGcWu7 Nourishing Meal : https://lnkd.in/er6Krq7i One Pot Meal : https://lnkd.in/eVC5QEtK Rice Porridge : https://lnkd.in/eBUT9wWM

#foodphotography #foodenthusiasts #foodiecommunity #foodlove #foodlovers #joinusnow #comfortfood #foodinspiration #CongeeRecipe #RicePorridge #ComfortFood #NourishingMeal #AsianCuisine #OnePotMeal #HomemadeGoodness #EasyRecipe

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downtoearthmarkets · 4 months

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January is historically the coldest month of the year here in New York. With the onset of chilly weather comes a peak in the cases of seasonal illnesses as people spend more time indoors and the cold, dry air lowers our resistance to viruses. So, if it seems like you and everyone you know is currently sick, was recently sick or is in the process of recuperating from being sick, it’s most likely not your imagination as these types of illnesses are cresting right now. Getting regular exercise, adequate sleep and consuming a diversity of fresh, unprocessed, nutrient-dense foods, such as those found in the farmers market, is fundamental to boosting your immune system and keeping you as healthy as possible throughout the winter months. But, when you’re sick or under the weather, incorporating these traditional, food-based therapies featuring wholesome ingredients can help you feel better and get you back on your feet faster. A Better BRAT The BRAT diet is an acronym that stands for its four food components -- bananas, rice, apple sauce, and toast. This diet used to be recommended for people, especially children, experiencing gastrointestinal symptoms like vomiting, diarrhea or gastroenteritis. Due to its restrictive nature, the original BRAT diet should be considered a temporary solution and is no longer recommended for extended periods of use beyond a meal or two. Instead, when mild tummy troubles arise, medical professionals now typically suggest consuming a greater variety of bland foods that are gentle on the stomach, along with plenty of fluids and electrolytes. If a bland diet is what the doctor has ordered, congee (Asian rice porridge) makes an excellent choice for an easily digestible, yet nutrient-rich, meal that has been used by the Chinese as a stomach remedy for thousands of years. Congee is made by boiling rice in a large amount of water or stock until the rice softens almost to the melting point, and the broth thickens with creamy rice starch. Adding small quantities of nutritious, stomach-friendly flavorings including minced garlic and ginger, and toppings such as shredded chicken breast will add extra appeal and goodness to your congee without aggravating your digestive system. Gather all the ingredients you need at the farmers market this weekend to make this deliciously warming and soothing Ginger Chicken Congee recipe from Food and Wine Magazine:

1 cup Great Joy Family Farm long-grain white rice, rinsed

7 cups Yellow Bell Farm chicken stock or homemade vegetable stock

One-inch knob of Jersey Farm Produce ginger, peeled and sliced thin

Optional: 3 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded (Yellow Bell Farm, Roaming Acres)

1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt, plus more for seasoning

1/4 teaspoon sesame seed oil

Fresh cracked black pepper, to taste

Sliced green onion from the farmstalls, for garnish

Chicken Soup for the Cold While a steaming hot bowl of chicken noodle soup isn’t necessarily a cure for a common cold, it can help relieve its uncomfortable symptoms and defrost you after spending time outside in the “common winter cold”! Not only will the vapor from homemade chicken soup relieve nasal congestion, the broth will rehydrate you, the noodles will provide instant energy-boosting carbs, and its nutritious goodness will feed your entire immune system.

Trisha, our long-time Larchmont Farmers Market Manager, shares her trusted recipe for healing chicken soup that can be made with either rice or noodles, depending on your personal preference:

Ingredients

1 whole chicken (Yellow Bell Farm, Roaming Acres)

3 cloves garlic (Jersey Farm Produce)

2 medium-sized Great Joy Family Farm purple or orange carrots

1 large leek (Jersey Farm Produce)

1 red onion (4E Green Farm)

1 large rib celery plus handful of leafy celery tops (Great Joy Family Farm)

1 bunch of parsley (4E Green Farm)

1 cup Great Joy Family Farm fragrant long grain rice or 1 cup La Trafila fresh pasta

Instructions

Roast chicken, when cooled, remove most of the meat but be sure to leave some on!

Place chicken carcass in a large pot filled with water.

Add garlic cloves (minced or whole), roughly chopped leek, celery, carrots and red onion to pot.

Season with salt, pepper, parsley and start a low simmer for 3-4 hours.

Taste occasionally, add seasoning if needed.

When done cooking, remove chicken carcass and remove its remaining meat.

Add chicken meat back into the soup. Add cooked rice or noodles.

Garnish with fresh parsley.

Serve piping hot!

Of course, consuming a diversity of fresh, healthy and delicious farmers market fare all year-round is the best way to make an ounce of prevention worth a pound of cure! But, as the ancient saying goes, 'Let thy food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food', so, if need be, we hope these tried-and-true food-based remedies come in handy during peak virus season. In the meantime, we look forward to seeing you ready to ward off the ‘cold and colds’ by bundling up well and heading out to the markets this coming weekend.

#downtoearthmkts #farmersmarket #shoplocal #buylocal #eatlocal #localfood #farmersmarkets #eatdowntoearth #agriculture #harvest #healingfoods #letfoodbethymedicine

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lanierecipes · 6 months

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40sandfabulousaf · 9 months

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大家好! Pa and I liked the kungpao tofu at the vegan cafe so much, we returned to try their bean burgers with roasted sweet potatoes. The latter was done perfectly and weren't too sweet. We'll visit the vegan cafe again because I have my eye on their bibimbap. After the meal, Pa craved ice cream and waffles, so we went to an ice cream cafe and shared 1 serving of it; seems like ages since I last had dessert that isn't fruit!

youtube

Unpolished rice congee is my favourite way to eat whole grains. I revisited the vegetarian stall which sells it and ate my fill of tau kwa (firm tofu), vegetarian duck, Chinese spinach and hairy gourd. I also introduced YL to unpolished rice fish congee at the place which I brought Pa and K to; when she tasted her first spoonful, she squealed with delight. It is THAT delicious. We had a good catch up and promised to meet again.

Although I start my mornings with coffee, I try to reduce my reliance on it for the rest of the day. Healthy and tasty alternatives are readily available, which makes achieving this easier. It's not that coffee is bad; I'd just been drinking too much and became over-reliant on it when things got stressful at work. Dou jiang (soya bean drink) is a good substitute when I need a pick-me-up and its natural fragrance is quite addictive. Some retail businesses also offer unsweetened options; I may introduce Pa to 1 of them soon.

The craving for tomato egg noodle soup was so strong this week, I had to eat some or it would drive me demented. There's something about steaming hot, flavourful and tangy broth, large fragrant clumps of egg and slurp-worthy QQ (springy) noodles that's incredibly satisfying. If there's 1 meatless meal that hits the spot every single time, it's tomato egg noodle soup. Also this week, I forgot about meat and that's okay. Meat keeps me warm and it's way too hot now to eat any.

youtube

Plant proteins have been incorporated into my meals at home and sometimes when I dine out. The long and short of this series of posts is: many of us who eat moderately healthy here don't eat fast food, pasta and dessert (except for fruit) often; we don't eat avocado regularly either. Fish, yes, tofu, yes, lots of veggies, yes, and rice, congee and soup noodles. This isn't a Mediterranean diet; it's ours and we deserve to be proud of it because it's just as good and our people live just as long as those in Europe. 下次见!

#Youtube

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effyeahtombraidergirls · 10 months

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Vietnamese Chicken and Long-Grain Rice Congee The comfort food of many Asians, congee is a hearty porridge made with rice and broth that is often overlooked. When you're feeling under the weather, try this recipe because it's flavorful, healthy, and really simple to make.

#vietnamese chicken #comfort food #peoples #recipe #lot #weather

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musings-on-aching-flowers · 2 years

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Hua Cheng, Xie Lian, and their relationship with food

I see a lot of media where Hua Cheng is depicted as swallowing down Xie Lian’s creative concoctions and pretending not to find it disgusting, smiling to hide a grimace, having no taste buds to speak of etc etc

But Xie Lian’s cooking (and, for better or worse, his incredible creativity in the kitchen) is another aspect of Xie Lian as a person. And Hua Cheng loves him for who he is, not in spite of perceived flaws like poor kitchen skills. Just. As a whole, realised individual, brimming with quirks and personality.

All this to say, Hua Cheng loves Xie Lian’s food. Not despite but for its interesting flavours and inexplicable textures because it just endears Xie Lian to him further - how wonderfully quirky and personal Xie Lian’s cooking is, as something he genuinely enjoys doing and constantly seeks to explore and innovate in, even if nobody else is appreciative of that innovation. He loves that his attempt at hand pulled noodles is both somehow crunchy and too soft, and tastes oddly burnt although it’s soup: it’s utterly unique and entirely too endearing and he just loves Xie Lian all the more for it - of course he’ll eat it all and ask for more.

On the other side, I think Xie Lian is capable of making conventionally ‘edible’ food. Like, food that isn’t on the poisonous side of dangerously unpalatable; probably safe, easy, generally bland things like congee or just plain rice. His food was apparently ‘more edible’ than that of his mother’s after all, even though what we’ve seen of present canon events seems to directly contradict that statement (a la the ‘aptly names’ Toppled Phoenixes).

Growing up as not only royalty, but the beloved God-pleasing Crown Prince of Xian Le, Xie Lian’s palate and tastes were refined and spoiled growing up, to the point where steamed buns were undesirable to him - I forget exactly what his 17 year old mind said about the steamed buns in the amnesia extra but it was nothing positive, to say nothing of how he’d rather go without eating than to lower himself to eat them during his first banishment. After taking hard fall after hard fall, and being on the run for so long, he was forced to get used to a simpler fare, which became even simpler once Mu Qing left. And when his parents ‘unburdened’ him as it were, all that was left was his mother’s horrendous cooking, nevertheless made with love, and he eats every last grain of rice.

Making a living and cultivating alone over the course of 800 years meant that often, Xie Lian was eating food generally considered inedible to stay upright, whether that be stale and moulding buns or straight up garbage scraps. But whenever he had the chance, I like to think one of the ways he re-cultivated his joie de vivre was to experiment in the kitchen like his mother before him, who despite making horrendously bad meals loved every step of the process - the love and care involved in feeding your loved ones. Maybe to feel connected to her, maybe to understand his mothers feelings on cooking, or maybe because Xie Lian is his mother’s son, he joyfully experiments with his cooking - deviating from safety into the wild unknown, holding the memory of his mother’s love for him that she tried to express through cooking too. Perhaps his food making ability worsened with his fortune, perhaps he was never gifted with it in the first place but despite all of that, Xie Lian loves, and he loves to cook, and he wants to cook for those he loves.

Hua Cheng’s ability to eat Xie Lian’s food means the world to both of them - Xie Lian because this is the first and possibly only time someone has shown true appreciation for his cooking, something he loves doing, and encourages him to continue no matter how disastrous the result: and not only that, he appreciates Xie Lian’s genuine desire to improve and respects it by taking it seriously, giving him advice with every new concoction.

As for Hua Cheng? Well, he gets to experience his gege in all his imperfect wonderful glory, eat his ridiculous cooking that is a perfect representation of him, and love him fiercely through it.

#tgcf #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #dianxia #hua cheng loves gege's food #xie lian's food #xie lian's cooking #im so bad at tagging sorry #gege #xie lian's mother #tgcf meta #my meta

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secondhand-trash · 3 years

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A/N: it’s been a long time without any new bentos but its back uwu I know we usually clown osamu a lot in this series but this one is kinda where we give him the appreciation he deserves hehe also its winter and I just have to write about something winter related so enjoy ouo

Warning: sickness, Osamu being baby

Word count: 2375

(click here to see more of Osamu’s bento)

(taglist in the notes, please go to the link in my bio or send me an ask to be added to the bento taglist uwu)

Winter in Hyogo was lovely, by all accounts. Not too chilly, but cold enough for the gentle sunshine gracing on your skin to feel like a blessing from the universe when you walked on the streets.

It would have been a flawless season if you were to be given the luxury of staying underneath your thick, fluffy futon every morning after waking up until your body was sufficiently warmed up and the worst hours of the day had passed before you finally had to leave the comforting confines of your bed. But alas, you wouldn’t get paid for staying in bed and before the day that such a magical occupation becomes a reality, you still had no choice but to give up on the blissful warmth of your blankets at unholy hours in the morning before leaving for another day of sitting still in a cold office with nothing but lifeless documents as your company.

You let out a sigh as the blaring screech of your alarm kept ringing, shutting your eyes tight to relieve yourself of the soreness lingering behind your vision before turning it off in frustration. The room was still dark, and it would not be until you were ready to leave the door that any light would shine through the curtains.

That was winter work days for you, always making the offer of early retirement all the more tempting.

Rolling to your side, you sucked in a deep breath to brace the impact of what was to come before lifting up the corner of your futon that you would certainly miss throughout the day. The chilly air broke through the trapped heat within the layers. You shivered as you hastily searched for you cardigan that draped at your bed side table, slipping your toes that were numb from the cold into your room slippers. Osamu shifted in his sleep at the sudden evasion to his warm little bubble, curling up uncontrollably at the sudden loss of his heat source as you left the bed.

Wait, Osamu?

“Samu?” you called out for him gently, putting your hand on top of his body that was wrapped up by the blanket that he now occupied entirely.

“Hm...”

There was a whimper that came from beneath the layers, hoarse and muffled as the man barely moved.

No wonder why it was so quiet this morning. Osamu was rarely up later than you, always out of the bed at the first alarm to start preparing for the day. You had taken being woke up to the smell of warm breakfast and the sound of pan sizzling for granted with it being one of the few motivations you had to actually open your eyes.

But right now, he was still in bed with seemingly no intention of waking up. You walked to his side of the bed, clutching your cardigan closer to your body as you bent down to push down the blanket that was covering his face just a little. His brows furrowed at the miniature, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead as he clenched his jaw. His face was flushed but his lips looked dangerously chapped, the few strands of his bangs that had fallen down matted to his forehead.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, the clear nasal in his voice making it sound like there was something stuck at the back of his throat as he spoke.

“8:30.” You replied, rubbing your hand along his arm as you took in his expression.

He shuddered at the time, kicking away the blanket but seemed more tangled up by it under his attempt as he shifted and tried to get up. “Shit... that’s so late. Why did I miss the alarm?”

You did not miss the way he nearly fumbled the moment his feet touched the ground, leaping forward to hold him by the shoulders before he could fall.

You had expected it when you saw that he didn’t get up. Osamu rarely misses his alarm, and the number of times this had happened as a careless mistake on his part was near none after he had the responsibility of Onigiri Miya on his shoulders.

But you knew your guess was correct when you pressed your forehead against his as he slumped over you. He was burning up, his face and his entire body as it laid on yours despite it being difficult for you to hold up his much larger frame. However, the person who was basically a human furnace in your hold was still struggling to stand back up straight as you held him there.

“Osamu,” you said, patting his back and trying to urge him to lay down, “go back to bed.”

“No...” he replied stubbornly, but ended up sounding more like a child who was trying to sound serious with his voice coming out weak and shaky.

“You are sick, I won’t let you get up like this,” you peeled off his hand that was latched onto your forearm, the lines between your brows deepening when you felt how he was sweating from his palms.

“But-”

“Miya Osamu.”

He let out a defeated whine, succumbing to the way you coerced him back onto the mattress as the dizziness weighing on his head finally took over. He was still mumbling about all the things he needed to do today under his breath as you tucked him back under the covers, reminding you to contact the staff that was supposed to come to work this morning as you reassured him again and again that you would get it figured out for him.

He spoke slower and slower as you fixed the pillow underneath his head, words melting into near incoherent slurs before he finally closed his eyes back up.

You did not move away until you saw the heavy breathing returned to a steady pace, even though the loud inhales indicated that he was still having a hard time. Sighing as you relaxed your hands that had curled into fists at your side when you hadn’t paid attention, you pressed your finger to your own forehead where it felt like his heat was still lingering on your own skin.

You had gone back to work as usual after spending too long pacing around that morning to call for a day off completely, but managed to file in to leave early. Just the thought of a sick Osamu being alone at home had you shifting in your seat. What if he woke up while you were gone and tried to force his wobbly body to handle chores? You had never packed up your things as quickly as you did when the clock finally strike at the hour when you were allowed to leave, dashing out near immediately the moment you finished off the work at hand.

Osamu was still deep in sleep by the time you got back, much to your relieve. He seemed slightly more at ease now than he was when you left the house, the cooling pad on his forehead sufficiently absorbing the heat emitting from him. It had been a long while since you last saw him so vulnerable, his lashes fluttering at his eyelids jumped at the way your finger brushed against his cheek when you reached to check his temperature.

“Mm...you’re home,” he fought his eyes open when he sensed you moving away under his half-woken state.

“Don’t go...”

You forgot how needy he always was when he was feeling unwell and how weak you were against his glassy eyes. Patting the back of his head, you tried to appease him as you cooed, “Let’s try to get you something to eat first, I’ll be back soon. Ok?”

He did not seem to be happy about the suggestion of you leaving his side, but still, let you go with a whine. Grey eyes stared at you from behind hooded lids, his cheeks squishing against the pillow as his hands curled and released at the corner of the futon he was grabbing onto. “Ok...”

When was the last time you ever stood in front of a stove? You were not completely useless in the kitchen by all means, but the long period of having all your meals being taken cared of by someone who not only knew what they were doing but found so much love in doing so had reduced you to nothing but a clueless cloud as you stared at contents in the fridge. There sat the jelly you had got for Osamu, which apparently was recommended to feed to patients for increasing appetite and reducing heat according to the articles you looked up on your way home. But other than that, it was a territory of unknown to you.

There were several Tupperwares labeled with different dates in Osamu’s scribbles. He had always been smart when it comes to domesticities, making sure that the best before was always marked clearly on the package of everything he bought. The drinks and soda cans were always refilled, which you had clearly taken for granted because the suddenly empty space stood out to you more than ever before. There were a few plates stacked up at the corner with sticky notes on the side and you felt a hollowness in your chest when you saw what it said.

“Monday’s bento.”

Oh baby boy...

You clasped your hand together as you gathered your thoughts, not giving yourself the room to stand around doing nothing. There’s a patient waiting for you in bed, and you couldn’t just let him suffer through a fever with an empty stomach.

You rolled your sleeves up, bracing the winter cold that graced against your arm, before searching in your sea of memories of all the times someone had taken care of you when you were sick.

The sweet smell of rice gathered in the steam, warming up your body with each inhale. You lifted up the lid tentatively and was pleased to see the all the grains had already melted together into a soft, fluffy cloud. The strings of egg added a tint of flavour to the otherwise bland congee. It was all starting to come together, and you let out a relieved sigh to know that at least he wouldn’t have to starve. The mess around the counter was evidence that you had to stumble through each step, the ingredients that you choppily diced up still lingering around the cutting board.

You thought of the way Osamu always out so much effort into making sure you were well fed each day and all the thoughts he had put into each bento.

The sheer cheesiness and absolute embarrassment that followed what popped up in your head made you shiver. Since when were you the type of person who could even think of things like that? But still, your hand moved to pick up the knife that was put to the side with the other reaching for the scraps that were left from the cooking.

He would probably like this a lot.

You hope he would like this a lot.

“Samu? Are you awake?”

The creek of the door was met with a soft whimper. The man on the bed swung his arm over to the side so his still heavy body could move with him, a small smile crawling onto his face when he saw you.

“Took you long enough...”

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I cooked anything,” the wooden tray landed on the bedside table with a clank. He tried to get up on his own, but the shaking of his arm had you rushing to help him at once. He looked sheepish as you lifted the cover of the pot, mixing everything together with the spoon before handing it to him.

Osamu was always touched by food, but maybe the lack of taste in his mouth all day had done a number on him when he had to choke back the urge to sob when he smelt the warm steam filling his nostrils the moment you opened the lid.

“Is that a heart?” he was grinning ear to ear as he pushed around the congee with the spoon.

“Yes,” you huffed with a defeated laugh under his knowing stare, “now hurry up or it’ll get cold.”

He looked up at you, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he pouted.

“Feed me,” he demanded, his voice sweet and like a kid as he held out the spoon in his hand.

You knew he would be all over it. You let out a soft tsk as you took the spoon back in your hand, sitting on the small space next to him on the bed as you scooped up some of the rice.

Osamu felt a warm swell in his chest at the way you carefully blew against the congee, one hand cupping beneath the spoon before bringing it to his lips. His head was still pounding, and the dryness felt nearly painful as he had his first bite of real food of the day but he loved, simply loved the way your eyes never left him for even just a second.

The congee warmed him from within, and he indulged in the leisure of laying against your shoulder while you babied him.

He latched on you when you were about to move away, rubbing his face against you as he whined. “It’s cold without you.”

“I need to get this in the sink or else it’ll be hard to clean up-”

“Nooooooo,” he held out for the last note of his voice, burying his face at the crook of your neck, “do it later...”

“You’re such a child when you are sick,” you joked, pushing away his bangs and caressed his jaw with your thumb.

“Yeah?” he muttered, leaning into your touch, “Good thing I have you here to take care of me then...”

You sighed, knowing that there was no way you could win when he was acting all clingy and cute like this. He let out a satisfied hum when you climbed under the covers, wrapping your arm around his waist while tugging his head against your shoulder.

“Get well soon, you big baby.”

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu imagines #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu x reader #miya x reader

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witchlockmonsterfox · 2 years

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yakona’s okayu (japanese rice porridge)

recipe adapted from just one cookbook

okayu is a dish similar to congee (eaten in many asian countries, particularly china!) it is warm, filling (yet light at the same time), comforting, and my particular version: salty! it is commonly eaten by the ill but also great when you have little appetite or are having texture issues. you can make it as thin or as plain as you’d like (using water instead)

as seen in the link above, there are many ways to make it, however this is my favourite so i decided to post my version!

you will need:

1/2th cup of japanese short grain rice (a brand like calrose from the grocery store will do this fine, but my favourite is koshihikari! this type of rice will sometimes be labeled “sushi rice”)

2 and 1/2th cup chicken broth or stock

half a sheet to a sheet of kombu (dried seaweed used to typically make broth)

soy sauce

umeboshi (sour, salty plums — NOT sweet at all, very intense) or umeboshi paste

koshihikari, kombu, and umeboshi paste can all be found on websites like amazon, but an east asian or japanese grocer will have them as well! most of these ingredients are relatively cheap!(koshihikari and full umeboshi plums will cost a bit more) however if you don’t have them them then you don’t have to add them — just dont use any other type of rice (like long grain), you need japanese short grain only!

for this recipe i use a 1:5 rice to liquid ratio, but you can use as much as a 1:7 or more for a thinner texture. the recipe remains the same — to make more or less, just multiply the amount of rice by five or more (so 1 cup of rice would be 5 cups of liquid!)

you can make this in a normal pot or donabe (earthenware pot) just make sure it’s big enough so it doesn’t boil over.

rinse the rice using a fine mesh strainer and cold or cool water by making a kneading motion with your fist into the rice like you do when making bread as the water runs over it. you don’t have to really worry about getting it clear.

add the rice to the pot and a generous amount of cold or cool water, making sure to cover the rice (you will not be cooking it in this liquid so don’t add the broth.)

let it soak for at least 30 minutes but it can soak for hours, and even overnight. next drain the rice using the same fine mesh strainer, put it back in the pot, add the broth, and then put it on high heat on the stovetop until it starts to boil — stir slightly and now you add the kombu sheet/strips (you will probably have to break it up so it fits) on top. you want to wait until it begins to boil as the kombu can soak up water. (do not add too much kombu for the same reason! it will throw off the ratio.)

turn it down to simmer (on the lowest or second lowest setting, not medium heat or anything!) and cover it with a tight fitting lid (do not open again until finished no matter how tempting it is!). cook for 30 minutes and no longer. when the 30 minutes is over, take it off the heat to let steam for 10 minutes (still don’t open that lid!)

once the 10 minutes is up, now you can open the lid! remove the kombu (you can also eat it if you’d like or save to make tsukudani — a salty topping for rice!) enjoy with the addition of soy sauce and/or umeboshi. be careful not to add too much, especially the umeboshi! i’d recommend only one single umeboshi or just a dab of paste (it is VERY salty).

a nice drink to pair with this is a light and gentle warm green tea or something refreshing, cold, and slightly sweet like calpico or juice!

this makes a wonderful breakfast dish too! you can even add an egg. and if you check out the link above you can find other toppings although some will be hard to find outside of japan.

めしあがれ！！

#ted cooks!#misc hobbies

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sasorikigai · 2 years

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In Chinese medicine, there is a saying, “medicine and food have the same source. Therefore, medicinal foods can either be seen as healthy foods or medicinal prescriptions”

Congee, also known as Jook, is a loose rice soup has been considered a medicinal food in China since the Han Dynasty in 206 BCE. It is basically rice cooked with extra water or stock for a long time. It particularly benefits the stomach and intestines and is most suitable for babies, people with gastro-intestinal complaints, and people with long-term illnesses. Gentle and digestible, an old Chinese text states, “when treating the depleted patient, use thick rice soup. This is as good as a decoction of ginseng.”

This thinking can perhaps be best understood when we look at the Chinese concept of how digestion functions. What we consider our “stomach” is actually more akin to the Chinese idea of the Spleen (italicized here to denote the Chinese concept of the organ, not the physical organ in our bodies). There is also a Stomach but that merely receives the food we eat; the actual breaking down of food, unappetizingly called the “rotting and ripening” function, happens in the Spleen. Think of the Spleen like a cauldron: for food to break down appropriately, the cauldron has to be heated by a fire beneath it. In Chinese theory, the Kidney qi supplies the fire for warming the digestive fire to support digestion. Congee is a nourishing food because the warmth supports normal Spleen qi function even in times when the Kidney qi may be weakened.

The famous Chinese physician Sun Si-miao said that the superior doctor should first adjust the patient’s diet and lifestyle. Only if that did not eliminate the patient’s disease should the treatment progress to using acupuncture or herbs. Like the smoothie, a congee can be adapted to meet many varied medicinal needs. Along that line of thinking, herbs are frequently added to the porridge to enhance its medicinal effects. Today, names for congee are as varied as the style of preparation. Regardless of what it’s called, the dish is easy to prepare and satisfying all year-round.

Rice, after all, is the staple for more than half of the world’s population, has truly shaped and defined the varied cuisines of Asia, China and Japan among them. The relationship that rice eaters of this continent have with rice is deep-rooted and imbued with meaning and importance. In this part of the world, rice is not only an integral part of the meal, it is also part of religious rituals and celebrations, as well as social ceremonies. Centuries-old traditions dictate the cultivation, harvesting, and consumption of rice. Asian people celebrate rice from planting to harvesting during various colorful festivals. Ceremonial and religious aspects of rice planting and harvesting are not so important to modern day city dwellers, but rice as a food continues to maintain its impressive significance in the life cycle of most Asian cultures.

Rice is revered as divine in many Asian countries and it is typically eaten at least two or three times a day. A meal without rice is not considered a full meal; and this important grain is often served in the plainest possible way. The variety of dishes that accompany rice may be elaborate and exquisite, but rice by itself is too precious to be treated just as an ingredient. Naturally, people tend to consider the rice they are used to eating as the most delicious variety. For example, the Chinese prefer long or medium grain and a non-aromatic rice. The Japanese and the Koreans prefer slightly glassy translucent medium or short-grain sticky rice.

There is no limit to congee’s permutations; depending on whom you ask, it might contain chicken, fish, eggs, vegetables, herbs, spices, grains, condiments, and/or all of the above. Similar to plain steamed rice, congee acts as the blank canvas for a selection of side dishes. The Japanese have okayu, usually paired with umeboshi (pickled plum), salmon, and nori. The Chinese have relished this dish in every corner of China. In rural China it is still a very important food. In days past, this porridge-like food was not just the food of the peasants, it was one enjoyed by all classes of people; even served at banquets by the people from Chaozhou.

#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#(thermodynamic equilibrium)#(my muse(s) and I have all grown up eating this excellent permutations of rice porridge or jook)#(Hanzo would have cooked a lot of this every time Satoshi got sick or when he was under the weather or didn't have an appetite)

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lyansi · 4 years

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Summary: The year is 1947. Lieutenant Inuyasha no Taisho finds himself in the center of postwar reconstruction. Having grown up Westernized, he thought he knew himself and his family. He wasn't expecting the sudden malaise of coming to a country he knew nothing about. Falling in love with a woman he just met. Nor the very upending of his identity and culture. While the language is known to him, the customs of their world are not: the constant downcast eyes, the bows, the polite way of speaking. The waves of people looking back at him reminded him of his mother, long gone, and a history he never cared to learn.

But she is there: with her quiet smiles and quick wit. Her blue eyes hold a fierce determination of a story to come. This world couldn't be so bad if she was there.

And his mother asked for one last, dying wish. Who was he to deny such a passionate request?

Disclaimer: Rumiko Takahashi is responsible for the Inuyasha series, I only lay claim on the story I have written.

Read this work on AO3

Prelude

Mountain View, California, United States of America

April 15, 1935

My dearest son,

I hope you can forgive my absence in the years to come, for I fear that I do not have much longer on this earth. I have asked Mr. Myoga Ogata to hold off on sending this letter to you until my passing. I did not desire to be an unnecessary burden during this most important time in your pursuits. I hope you know that I wish to continue in this life— believe me, my heart and soul— but that I no longer have the strength.

Your father, whom I was death on with each breath, gave to me the greatest gift— a sweet, innocent, little boy. You, Inuyasha, have been my most precious legacy. For many years after your fathers’ passing, I was able to concern myself only with you. I watched how you grew from a tot, into a young lad, into the man you are today. I had thought many times you would settle into a calf-love as your father and I had but instead, you chose to be a scholar. You have the grit to see it through and to do what your father and I have not.

I hope you know how jovial you have made me. Even when I am no longer of this life, you will continue to make me right peart. Your father would be proud, for he was most thrilled in the early days of my motherhood.

My health has me returned for now and with it, my spirits. The consumption has yet to take me!

I count the days though, for the end will be upon me yet. I will have failed as a mother, and as a wife, if I did not console you in these times. Please, my son, know that you have done everything you could. It is not you, nor the doctors, who have failed me. It is the failure of my own body to fight off the coughs, the fatigue, and the pains. Most nights I wake in cold-sweats, and now, the doctor has diagnosed me with a sickness called hemoptysis.

I will walk into the night one day but do not despair— for I will walk hand in hand with death Himself. Please do not pity your mother. It is because of you, and because of your father, that I have lived a life most fulfilled. A life with happiness, laughter, and light. I could not have asked for more.

In a time long past, I spent the early days of my youth walking along the shores of Kujukuri-hama. Once upon a time, I was the daughter of a wealthy lord. Hitherto, I was to marry a samurai, Setsuna no Takemaru. I spent many of my days' longing for more: beyond the shoes of Tokyo, and of Nippon. It was your father who fulfilled those desires for many years, until his own death. Then, it was you.

Now, I long for nothing more than to lay upon those very shores as the water lap on my toes, my feet, my legs. To stretch upon the grains of the sand. To hear the gulls cry out as they circle above! To feel the warmth of the sun on my face! To hear my native language once more, among those that accept me without provocation. With each passing day, I long more and more to return to where the sun rises eternally. Where your father rests peacefully. He waits for me yet…!

You may be most sad now but remember, these moments in life are only momentary. One day you will walk amongst others and this intense pain you are holding onto, you will soon forget. I hope that one day you will find beauty in the most unexpected of places. That you will find, and accept, wisdom even when you have not sought for it. And that one day you will find love, and strength, in even the most onerous of journeys. You may feel sadness now, and loneliness may wrap your heart, but that is only brief. Without these feelings, you would not feel the joy and compassion that will bear itself to you, like a blossoming flower in the melting snow.

You will always be a part of me, as I will always be a part of you. Your father too will always be with you. Our blood forever runs through your body—for it is from our bodies that you were once part of.

Mr. Myoga Ogata will be sounding the passing bell; I ask that you take my ashes back to the rising sun. Back to where your father rests, along the shores of Shichiriga-hama. I am told that he was laid at Koyurugi Jinja. It is my most ardent wish to lay alongside the man who gave me everything when I could not give even a grain of rice.

I have bequeathed to you all which I inherited from your father, and from your fathers' father, and from his fathers' father. That which belonged to my native country is the ring which rests on my finger, and the kimono that I cherished most before leaving Nippon.

Treasure them as I have treasured you.

Forever with love,

Izayoi no Taisho

Tokyo Bay, Honshu, Japan

September 15, 1945

0945:37

The sounds of water rushing against the naval ship bring Inuyasha back to the present moment. Molten amber eyes look beyond the port side, over the vast ocean, and out towards the horizon. The faint outline of islands begins to emerge beyond the fog. Overhead seabirds squawk as they attempt to land on the deck. Brandished away, they perch along the crosstrees, high up from human interaction.

“Lieutenant no Taisho, sir.”

The man folds the letter along the creases. After so many years, the missive has become discolored from exposure. The ink, however, stood out clear and crisp. Too many times he read, and re-read, this very letter. He knew every word by heart. Even now, he could picture the slanting of his mother's chancery cursive. He imagines the slopes of her a and the quick-dash and crosses on her t. She often tended to confuse her f’s for p’s, sometimes to the point he would have to reexamine the word and sentence. Was this a result of learning a new language as an adult, with little help and no education?

Inuyasha returns the letter to his breast pocket, careful to avoid loosening his pinned insignia. He turns about-face towards the Chief Warrant Officer saluting him. Returning the gesture he raising his arm sharply, palm down, above his eye.

“Chief Warrant Officer Johnson.”

Both return to a formal stance of acknowledgment.

“Sir, I am here to inform you that we are approaching the islands of Japan. We should hit shore before the end of the day, sir.” As the CWO Johnson speaks to him, Inuyasha loses himself in memories long forgotten. Of feelings lost to him until now.

“Sir?” Brown eyes gaze up at him all the while standing to attention. CWO Johnson’s arms press steadfast to his side, shoes polished as they reflect light from the sun above.

Blinking, Inuyasha realizes he has yet to dismiss CWO Johnson.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. You are dismissed.”

The CWO salutes him once more before he leaves, walking in the direction of other sailors. For a moment, Inuyasha’s eyes follow his path before he turns back towards the sea. He inhales deeply, tasting the sharp, brisk seawater on his tongue.

Had he not been on and off naval ships for the last decade, he probably would have choked on the sudden intrusion. As it were the scents around him were dependable, comfortable, and familiar.

More familiar than the country his mother left. A country ravaged and destroyed by times of war and despair. Could he truly impart her final wishes in such a place, so far from the nation he grew up under? So far from him? He had no family here. No ties to link himself to a return trip.

Except for his mother, now.

An ache settles in his mouth, from whence Inuyasha has clenched his teeth together. He releases the pressure, moving his jawbone side-to-side to decrease the tension.

It was her dying wish to be laid to rest alongside his father. Even if he never knew his old man, he loved and cared deeply for his mother. The least he could do was respect her most impassioned desire.

Tokyo, Honshu, Japan

September 15, 1945

1728:15

“Did you hear? A new boat landed today.”

“Marshall MacArthur sure is busy. I hope they brought more of their American food. I haven’t been able to grow anything in months.”

The word ‘American’ sticks out, a harsh emphasis on the last syllable. Higurashi Kagome peers at the two women in line before her, in hushed tones talking to one another. A slick sheen gleams against the tanned skin of one of the women. Her dark eyes survey around her before catching Kagome’s own blue ones. A small, shy smile spreads across her face and she looks away, pretending she had not been listening.

The sun began to set, leaving behind hues of blues, pinks, and reds. Across the horizon, it beams as a deep ochre in the sky, emanating a white-gold ring and rays of orange across the land. A whitetail streaks across the faint blues, pinks, and reds left behind by an aircraft.

If not for the rubble, the scorched lands, or half-torn buildings, Kagome might have thought the setting sun beautiful. The ration ticket scalds against her skin though, reminding her of the situation at hand. She refocuses her attention to the front as allotments are distributed.

Would today be the day they receive the wheat and oats necessary to survive another week or month? There were only so many ways one could stretch over boiled rice. Adding wheat and oats turned congee into tasteless gruel, but it upped the calorie intake.

The line moves faster as rations are given. Soon, Kagome finds that she spies only eight heads ahead of her. The two women continue to chirp, talking of black market deals and spools of fabric costs. It reminds Kagome of her younger brother who, in only a span of three months, grew three inches. Maybe she could extend his yukata with some of her old and wearing kimono. She didn’t think she could afford this month's rations, the charcoal to cook them, and a new spool of fabric. Inflation continually depreciated the value of yen.

As Kagome decides this is the best way to keep costs down, she realizes a hushed whisper has come upon the group. The women point excitedly and talk fast; Kagome almost misses the words “Japanese-American” and “nay-vee”. She follows the trajectory of one finger, where a small group of military personnel stands off to the side.

It is one man that the group talks about and, for a moment, Kagome convinces herself they are mistaken. His headgear is off and he holds the visor between his thumb and pointer, arms crossed.

The setting sun caresses unusual blond hair, flecked with hints of platinum. It creates the illusion of a halo around him. Unlike her own paler complexion, his skin is tanned from years of sun exposure. His eyes, the color of burnt amber, slant downwards and betray his lineage. He is wearing the standard service uniform, a button-down, and trousers. She doesn’t understand military ranking, but his shoulder boards denote a star.

Next to him, a pretty Japanese woman dressed in nurse garb leans over in conversation; her own features illuminate tales of lost origins. Large, almond-shaped eyes scan the crowd, momentarily pausing as they meet her own.

A hand on her shoulder startles her back to reality, and she sees a gap between herself and the two women in front. She bows, apologetically, before closing the space in line.

Only three heads wait in front of her now. She thinks though that the two women in front count as one.

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyashafanfic #inukag #inuyasha #ichijo no shunmu

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