Right.
This thing's not gonna roast itself...
This is for a Middle Kingdoms recipe (but this approach is also long established on our version of Earth). Pumpkin or butternut squash slices are tossed in olive oil, laid out in the pans and sprinkled with chili flakes and a little salt. Whole peeled garlic cloves get inserted here and there; the whole business then sprinkled with oregano (though in the Kingdoms they'd be more likely to go for sage or thyme). A few thyme sprigs are scattered here and there. Then everything goes into the oven and gets roasted at 200° C / 400° F for about 40 minutes.
Some people like to add small chunks of feta or similar sheep's milk cheese to this. I usually give that a pass, both because I'm not a big feta fan and because I like not to have to take a lactase pill sometimes...
So now the result:
...And now for dinner. :) (In the background, @petermorwood is making small new-ish potatoes roasted in duck fat. "Well, the oven's hot, why waste the energy...?")
Meanwhile, the other half of the pumpkin remains to be dealt with. Tomorrow, a regional/seasonal Steldene delicacy: pumpkin tarts with hard Teinakh cheese and spiced pumpkin-flour pastry. They're gonna look so weird—pumpkin flour tends to turn things dark, if not positively green—but the flavor...! :)
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The unequivocally funniest thing season 3 did was bring in Hilda's dad and then just. Not answer any follow-up questions. Where's he been? Idk, off somewhere. Is he deadbeat? Not really? He clearly cares about Hilda a lot and moved to Trolburg to be closer to her, but it's also implied he ran off from being overwhelmed when she was little. Does Hilda know him? Apparently. What's his deal with Johanna? Good fucking luck figuring it out.
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solved a mystery that no one but me needed solved. ray got his stage left tattoo on the 24th of january 2007 in brisbane australia...here she is at their show that night all freshly wrapped up.... <333
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you know there were times where tails booked it after giving sonic the biggest gash on his arm and he’d disappear for hours near the beginning of their travels together
sonic would give up after like 2 hours of looking for him and stay at their campsite to fix up his newly acquired wound, hoping the kit would find his way back on his own, only to look up and see tails staring at him from a tree branch
he had been up there the entire time, just watching him
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Most people find listening to the sound of falling rain relaxing.
Most people.
Not him.
He had spent too many nights huddled under awnings and tucked under bridges, unable to avoid the water that soaked him and what little he had to the skin.
Wet shoes and socks meant being barefoot, too numb with cold to notice he was stepping on broken beer bottles along the road. Wet clothes meant that he had only hours to find somewhere, anywhere to get warm or dry before he would get sick, really sick.
He wasn’t there, anymore.
He was safe.
He was home.
But that didn’t mean the sound of falling rain didn’t fill him with a bone deep sense of dread.
She didn’t understand exactly; she knew she’d been lucky enough to never associate the sound of rain with anything other than staying indoors. But she understood enough.
Warm blankets and dry socks found their way into his lap while the whistle of the kettle drowned out at least a little of the noise.
She’d close the curtains and put a movie on, loud enough that he could almost forget until the next crack of thunder would make him jump.
He didn’t hide under storefront umbrellas or overpasses anymore, but he did tuck himself further under her arm, as if out of habit, even now.
They both silently hoped that one day, the rain would be just rain. But until then, they’d wait out the storm together, in dry socks.
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