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peakyoak · 2 years

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This Dark Disposition: Chapter 35 - Get To Work Soldiers

Chapter 35 - Get To Work Soldiers

The Next Day

Tommy held out his hand and Danielle stepped off the barge and onto the shore of Camden Town. When she did so Danielle felt a shiver go up her spine and she hugged her navy fur lined coat around her. Winter would be coming soon and she was glad she brought her black leather gloves with her.

“This way,” Danielle told Tommy as she walked towards the front door of the bakery. The place looked different this time around; men lined the street and the docks as they packed boxes onto boats. Surely, these men were Tommy’s new recruits. Her coat swayed in the wind as she led Tommy to the back door of the building, the one with the swinging door.

As they approached the door Danielle and Tommy were greeted almost immediately by Solomons himself. Upon seeing him Danielle couldn’t help but let a smile slip, “Well well well if it isn’t the lil’ dove.” He said with outstretched arms that seemed to welcome her before he turned to look at Tommy, “I see you’ve brought your man.”

“Alfie,” Danielle said in a serious but calm tone, “This is my fiancé Tommy.”

At first Danielle wasn’t sure what would happen next. The intensity of the moment seemed to hang in the air like cigarette smoke that lingers. Alfie stroke his beard with his hand before he extended his hand towards Tommy “You’re girl is fuckin’ crazy mate,” he said as he shook Tommy’s hand.

Tommy nodded his head slightly to the side and took a breath, “She plays by her own rules.”

“Come love birds,” Alfie said as he turned to walk down the hall “This way.”

He led the couple back into the room where Alfie offered Danielle rum the last time she was in Camden Town, “We make lots o’ bread here, ya, lots of it, tell him Miss Virtue,” Alfie said as he walked down the hall with his distinct limp - every other step making a heavy thud.

“10,000 loaves a week I was told,” Danielle said as she looked further down the hallway at all the men lining up in the center of the building.

“Here,” Alfie said as he poured a glass of white rum, “Try this,” Alfie handed Tommy the glass and he drank it.

“It's good, smooth,” Tommy commented.

“Of course its fuckin’ good, eh. I made it and it's for the bosses,” as he talked he expressed himself by moving his free hand through the air, “I would offer some to your Mrs., but given her condition, and the fact that she’s currently growing the next Shelby leader in her body, I wouldn’t think it wise.”

Tommy looked at Alfie and then at Danielle and when he did so he clenched his jaw, “No, Mr. Solomons, it wouldn’t be.”

Alfie led them through to the main room where men were gathered in the center of the building, “Alright boys,” Tommy started talking as he paced back and forth across the room. Danielle stayed standing next to Alfie while Tommy instructed the men. “You’ve all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town.” He stopped and pointed at the group of men with his cigarette, “If anyone asks, that's what you do. You’re bakers. The coppers in Camden Town are on our side, but North or South you show them that piece of paper. Tell ‘em you've come down from the North to find work. To break strikes. We’re finding lodgings for you, but for now you’ll sleep here in the bakery.” Tommy paused for a second to get out a cigarette and light it, “Don’t touch any of the bread, it’ll most likely explode.” He took a drag off of his smoke, “Any questions?”

A middle aged man in the front row raised his hand. Fucking idiot. Danielle thought as she rolled her eyes. She glanced at Alfie who was leaning against some barrels. His facial expression made it clear that was just as impressed as she was.

Tommy exchanged glances with Danielle before he turned back to the man, “Yes?”

“I haven’t even seen any bread,” the man said as the other men laughed.

Danielle crossed her hands in front of her body and then looked at Alfie more obviously this time. It was clear that she was signaling for him to act, so he got up with a piece of rebar and walked up with his arms crossed to the man who spoke. He paused in front of the man for a second and then without saying anything he struck the man standing beside the questioner. After the man fell to the ground Alfie turned his attention back on the man, “He’ll wake up. Right he won’t have any teeth left, but he’ll be a wiser man for it. And the last thing he will remember is your funny lil’ joke, won’t he?”

“Right!” Aflie screamed as he walked in front of the men, “There are fuckin’ rules here and there are rules here for a fuckin’ reason. Quite simply they have to be obeyed, all righ’?” Alfie held out the piece of rebar as he talked with his hands, “Rule number one, the distinction between bread and rum is not discussed.” He paused for a second to ensure he still had the men’s attention, “Rule number two, anything that your superior officer says to you, or any of your other fuckin’ superior officers say to you, yeah? Not discussed!” He yelled once more before pacing to the other side of the room, “Rule number three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine I don’t care, for the rest of your lives, all right? Now I will keep this fuckin’ civil because there is a lady here, but for all of you for the rest of your fuckin’ miserable lives, Jewish women. You do not go near them because Jewish women for you are off the fuckin’ menu.”

Before he finished he turned back to look at Danielle and Tommy, “I think that’s fair.” Danielle had to give it to the guy, if nothing else he certainly had a dramatic flair, “Forgive me I interrupted you.”

Danielle took a step towards the men, “Pick him up,” Danielle motioned to the man on the ground, “Get him out of here.” She turned to walk back towards Tommy and Alfie, “And get to work soldiers.”

The Next Day - Small Heath

All morning Danielle had an awful spout of morning sickness - she was sick everyday of course, but today was especially brutal. What bothered Danielle the most, aside from the nausea, headache, and her empty stomach, was the fact that she was barely able to get any work done.

“You really should go home Danielle,” Polly said when she came into the office at about eleven in the morning, “don’t take this the wrong way but you look miserable.”

“I have a job to do, Polly,” Danielle said as she took another sip of ginger tea, “Besides, I told your nephew that I wasn’t going to stop working and much to his disapproval, actually, because of his disapproval, I intend to keep working.”

Another hour went by and Danielle didn’t eat lunch with the others. She knew if she did she would certainly throw up once more, “At this point we should just be keeping a bucket beside your desk,” Esme joked as she went back to her betting station.

Tommy had been in meetings at the Garrison and Charlie’s Yard all morning, when he returned to the gamling den he came into Danielle’s office, “Love, you really should go home,” Tommy said as she stood beside her desk, “Polly told me how your morning went.”

Danielle swiveled her chair to turn sideways so she could look up at him, “I won’t forgive you, you know” she said as she crossed her arms, “You’re the one who did this to me.”

Tommy leaned down to put his hands on the sides of her chair and spoke softly to her, “Ay, and now, as the one who did this to you, I’m telling you that you should go home. When was the last time you ate something and kept it down, Danny? When was the last time you ate something, period?”

Danielle stayed silent, she knew Tommy and Polly were right. She gently pushed Tommy to the side and got up from her chair, “Fine, I’ll go home, but I’m not happy about it.”

Tommy grabbed her coat from its hook and held it so she could put her arms in it, “Rest, Danny, and for the last time, eat something. Whether you keep it down or not.” When her coat was on he handed her her gloves.

She walked out of the office and into the main section of the gambling den. As she did so Tommy came out behind her and Danielle noticed how he glanced at Polly, “Go for a walk Danielle, some fresh air might help with the nausea,” Polly said as she walked out of the room with Dave and Steven in tow.

Danielle couldn’t believe how stupid the idea of going for a walk was. What pissed her off even more was twenty minutes later when she did actually seem to be feeling a little better. As she walked down Watery Lane towards her and Tommy’s house people tipped their hats at Danielle, some crossed the road, and others let their eyes linger for too long. Danielle knew that even normally she was recognizable to the people in Small Heath, but now, with two big men wearing blinder caps following her everywhere, there was no mistaking who she was.

As she walked Danielle noticed that the street was significantly less busy up ahead by her house. As Danielle walked down the street she realized that people were crossing the street instead of walking by her house. Danielle thought that seemed a little bit odd, especially considering that she was still half a block away.

When she got closer to the house it became clear why, “Miss Virtue,” a man called from the ally beside her home in a distinctly Irish voice, “I think it's far past time we talked,” the man said as he walked around the corner, each step he took was followed by the sound of a heavy metal cane.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Lion

Summary: Bruised and bleeding, Tommy Shelby ends up in Alfie’s office. Alfie doesn’t care about his condition, but there is someone who does. Alfie’s cousin.

//This got much longer than I expected, enjoy!

There was only one woman who worked at the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town and for very good reason. A distillery wasn’t the place for a woman, according to Alfie Solomons. Especially not a good Jewish woman from a good Jewish family.

And yet, Ariel Solomons still managed to wrangle a job out of her cousin. Nothing fancy, just as his assistant, managing his diary and calls. But it was a job.

Alfie’s dog greeted Ariel at the door of the bakery. She stopped for a moment to give him a pat before making her way to her cousin’s office. Greeting a few familiar faces as she went, she strolled down the familiar halls of the bakery. Almost blind to the smell of rum after all the time she’d spent there.

Ollie was lingering around outside Alfie’s office, keeping his eyes on the windows looking in.

“’Morning, Ollie.” Ariel greeted and went to knock on the door before the man stopped her.

“He’s talking to someone.”

“I’ll just be a minute.” She didn’t have any qualms about flitting in and out of Alfie’s office. Unless he was negotiating with someone like Sabini, she would interrupt. Ariel knew that her cousin liked things done quickly. So, when something needed to be signed, she got it to him as soon as she could just to avoid a tongue lashing about procrastination.

“I really wouldn’t-” Ollie tried to stop her again but she entered anyway.

Ariel paused when she saw her cousin pointing a gun at the dark-haired man on the other side of his desk. She cleared her throat. “Erm…I’ve got contracts for you, Alfie.”

The dark-haired man glanced over his shoulder. Ariel wasn’t sure what to look at first. His remarkably blue eyes? Or the fact that one of those eyes was completely red from internal bleeding.

Alfie muttered something unpleasant under his breath and lowered his gun. “Give ‘em here.” He waved her over.

Ariel approached the desk and showed him the papers and where to sign. As Alfie glanced over them, she looked up at the stranger.

The blue-eyed man looked worse for wear. He’d clearly been through some trauma. That’s when his nose started to bleed.

“Oh-oh, you’re um…” Frantically, Ariel dug into her skirt pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. “Oh dear, you’re bleeding.” She gestured to her nose.

Alfie frowned. “Fucking hell, Tommy, they really beat the shit outta you didn’t they?”

Tommy took the cloth from her and held it to his nose. “I’m here on business, Mr. Solomons, not to talk about personal matters.”

“Have you been to hospital?” Ariel asked, ignoring the disapproving look of her cousin.

He looked up at her. “Yes.”

“And they released you in this state?”

Alfie set the papers down and stood up. “Alright, love, time to go. Got more to talk ‘bout with Mr. Shelby.” He tried to usher his cousin out of the room, making little shooing motions with his hands.

“Alfie, he’s hurt, he’s in no condition to be here right now. He ought to go back to the hospital.” She argued and stood her ground skirting around him.

“He made it here well enough, yeah, he can sit and fucking talk.”

Ariel crossed her arms over her chest. “As a registered nurse…”

“Oh, fuck off with that. Will you? Will you give it a rest? You want to fucking go ‘round saying you’re a nurse then go work at a fucking hospital.”

“Don’t speak to me that way.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care if you’re the boss or not, I’m family.”

Alfie let out a sigh and considered the consequences of yelling at his cousin. Should it get around the family he would get a serious talking to from his aunt, who, despite her age, could still pack a wallop.

She’s your cousin, Alfred, and you treat her with such disrespect. What would your mother say? What would your father say?

It would cost him time he didn’t have.

“Fine, not like it’s me own fucking business or anything.” He muttered. “Congrats, Mr. Shelby, you’ve officially become her patient. In fact, yeah, since it’s such a fucking urgent matter, best you use me office, don’t want to move him, he’s too fragile, ain’t he? Can’t have him shattering to pieces, no, no.” The sarcasm was more than obvious but Ariel ignored him. “The well-being of a fucking Peaky Blinder is in me best interest and me fucking number one priority right now!” The man continued to rant as he left the office, slamming the door behind him.

Ariel rolled her eyes and pulled up a chair to sit beside the man. “I apologize for his behavior.”

“I don’t need any help.” He told her in a deep but steady voice.

“Can you face me?”

Tommy seemed to get the picture that the woman was persistent. If she could stand up to a man like Alfie, she wouldn’t have a problem with standing up to him. He turned the chair slightly towards here, the movement making him wince.

“What happened?” She leaned forward and lightly touched his face to examine his eyes and the cut on his cheek. His nose had stopped bleeding, luckily.

“I fell.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s what all the men ‘round here say. They fell. You lot are very unsteady on your feet apparently.”

Tommy studied her face as she studied his. “You’re family to Alfie?”

She smiled slightly. “I’m his cousin. But I also work as his assistant.”

“But you’re a nurse.”

Ariel moved her hands to his hair to see if there were any knots. Her fingers moved quickly but gently. “I was a nurse in the war.” She explained. “Alfie said that if I took care of him and his men with their various injuries then he’d pay me more than any hospital would. I just have to keep his planner and answer the phones too.”

“Ah.”

“You’re Tommy Shelby?”

“You’ve heard of me.”

“I was the one who received your telegram and passed it along to Alfie.” Her hands dropped to gently press his ribs.

Tommy couldn’t help the knee-jerk reaction of pain when she pressed into his broken ribs. He jolted away from her with a wince.

Ariel withdrew. “Can I see?” She requested.

He hesitated. Only moments before Alfie Solomons was threatening him with a gun. Now his cousin was trying to take care of him. It seemed suspicious. Maybe she was just a plant, there to figure out his weaknesses. Tommy hated appearing weak, especially when it came to injuries sustained from being jumped.

But the woman’s touch was so gentle and there was a look of care in her ocean-blue eyes.

Tommy unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat before untucking his shirt. Ariel lifted the fabric with care and took a look at his ribs.

“Some fall you took.” She remarked while running her fingers over the severely bruised area. “You should have these wrapped as soon as you can. It would be best if you went back to the hospital but I’m guessing you left on your own accord. No doctor in their right mind would release you like this.”

He nodded. Well, the girl was clever, he had to give her that.

“Where are you off to after this?” She asked, lowering his shirt.

“Back to Birmingham.” He answered and buttoned up his waistcoat again.

Her brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t travel in your condition.

Tommy adjusted his coat collar. “I got here just fine.”

“That’s all well and good, Mr. Shelby, but it doesn’t mean you should have. If you don’t have your injuries taken care of properly then you’ll only make your recovery longer.”

“I’m aware.”

The door opened and Alfie came back in. Without knocking, it was his office after all even if his cousin was treating it like a private exam room. “Alright, check-up’s over. Mr. Shelby, you want to make a deal, let’s get this over with.”

“Alfie…”

“Ariel, so good to see you, love.” He gathered up the contracts, all signed, and stuffed them back in her hands. “Give me best to your mum. I’ll be ‘round for Sabbath soon, all in good time.”

She didn’t budge. “Alfie.”

“In the meantime, back to work with ya. Head on out, on you go.”

“Nice to meet you, Ariel.” Tommy gave her a nod.

The woman sighed and stood up. “Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Shelby.” She gave her cousin a glare before leaving with the papers in hand.

Tommy watched her leave, a little struck that one of Alfie’s relatives was so gentle. It wasn’t too much of a shock how headstrong she was though.

Unfortunately, Alfie took notice. Caught Tommy’s eyes lingering on her with a bit of interest playing in them. “You know what her name means, mate?”

The Blinder blinked a few times and turned to face him again. “No, I don’t.” The origin of names wasn’t something he wasted time on.

“It’s Hebrew.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest. “Means lion of God. Usually a boy’s name, right, but when she were born, she screamed like a fucking lion’s cub. Just a little thing tryna roar. We call her Ari, just means lion.”

“Thank you for the education.” Tommy replied, not too interested in the woman’s name. More so on who she was as a person.

“Best you listen.” Alfie leaned forward. “She’s got a bite to her, right? But the worse you’re gonna get is from me. I ever catch word that you’ve been bothering her, you’ll wish I’d’ve thrown you into a lion’s den instead.”

~~~~~~~~~~~`

Tommy was still limping as he left the bakery.

“So, who beat you up?”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ariel was loitering by the front doors of the building. “Men.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t think a horse kicked your ribs in.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Nope, not a horse.” He turned back around and headed for the barge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfie was clever. Clever enough to know that under no circumstances would he allow his cousin, a bright, kind, respectable Jewish woman associate with a violent, shady, dangerous gangster.

Therefore, if Tommy Shelby was ever in Camden Town for business, Ariel was sent across the city to run an errand that really didn’t need to be done. Alfie didn’t care when she came back complaining about how ludicrous it was. She didn’t know Tommy had been there and Tommy hadn’t seen her.

What Alfie couldn’t anticipate was the result of a bad decision and a couple of years passing by. His aunt insisted that Ariel needed to be wed.

What will become of her if we don’t arrange a marriage now? She’ll be alone the rest of her life? No husband? No children? It’s a disgrace, Alfie!

And as the unofficial head of the family, it suddenly became his job to find a suitable husband for his cousin. Thing was, not many men in the Jewish community were keen on marrying into the same family as Alfie Solomons. Sure, they’d be marrying into wealth, but at what cost?

Eventually, Alfie found someone who would accept the large dowry at the risk of being under Alfie’s thumb for the foreseeable future.

He delivered the news to his cousin that he’d arranged a match. Ariel laughed in his face, told him to go to hell, and left.

After the hard work he put into finding a husband, Alfie wasn’t happy. He told his aunt that either Ariel agreed to the match or she would no longer be supported by the family. Ariel, again, told him to go to hell, packed up her things, and left that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy was flitting in and out of consciousness as he was wheeled down the hall. The walls seemed to convulse around him and the ceiling spun.

“We’ve got an arrival for surgery.” The man wheeling the gurney announced. “Make way please. Nurse, if you’d administer the anesthetics.”

“Yes-oh my goodness.”

The voice responding was so familiar. But Tommy’s brain had turned to mush and he couldn’t place it to a face or a name.

“Tommy?”

He slipped back under before he could see her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy was in and out for quite some time after his surgery. But the first time he was lucid, he found himself practically bolted to the bed. His head was locked into a metal brace and his body felt like it had been changed to nothing but lead. His throat was dry and his vision was still fuzzy.

“Did that horse come back to get you, Tommy?”

It began to dawn on him, the voice belonged to Ariel. The woman he hadn’t seen in years. He wanted to say something or at least smile but he couldn’t seem to do either. Nothing in his body was responding to his brain.

“It’s okay.” She walked over and touched his arm. “You won’t be able to do much for a short while. You had major surgery and it’ll take time to recover. But you’re in good hands.” She placed her index and middle finger against his palm. “Can you try to squeeze my hand?”

It was like he was hitting a hundred walls just trying to move his muscles. Something so simple was suddenly so agonizing. But he relented and managed to weakly move his fingers to wrap around hers.

“Good, much better than I expected.” She said encouragingly. “Are you in pain?”

He couldn’t even manage to focus for long enough to find out if he was in pain or not. But he lightly squeezed her hand again to agree.

“Okay, I’ll bring you morphine. It’ll most likely make you fall back asleep. But you need as much rest as you can get right now.”

Tommy started to nod off again, not able to move or even think he couldn’t convey much to her anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t too long until Tommy was able to speak again. Yet, for the most part he was immobile. The brace, as Ariel explained, was a precaution. The doctor didn’t want him moving his head and causing more damage.

“You’ve got quite the will to live, Mr. Shelby. If you had arrived any later, you’d surely be dead by now. A miracle you survived at all.” The surgeon had said.

Tommy didn’t feel very lucky. He felt duped and defeated. And since he couldn’t move, there was nothing he could do but lay there and think. Think about all the mistakes he made, the ways he could’ve gotten the upper hand, things he could’ve done to further protect himself. But hindsight was only making him more disgruntled.

It was fortunate he had Ariel. While the other nurses took good care of him, Ariel paid him special attention. He wasn’t sure if it was because they had met before or he was in such a sorry state. Either way, he didn’t question it much. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he adored the attention she gave him. In one of his most vulnerable and darkest times in his life, he had a little ray of sunshine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“’Morning, Tommy.” Ariel walked into the room and went to open the blinds to let in some daylight.

Tommy awoke, groggy and disoriented. He still wasn’t accustomed to waking up in the hospital, let alone waking up in the state he was left in.

“Breakfast will be ‘round soon. Can I get you water?” Ariel paused to hear a grunt of confirmation. Although he’d regained his speech, sometimes it was delayed, especially in the morning when he was half asleep. She walked over to pour him a glass from the pitcher beside his hospital bed. “Did you sleep alright?” She wondered.

“No.” He muttered and tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

“Did you ask the night nurse to give you something to help you sleep?” She helped him sit up, propping a few extra pillows behind him to support him.

“No.” He ran a hand over his face, stifling a yawn.

“Why not?” She tried to hide her disappointment. Never had she met a more stubborn patient than Tommy. He hardly ate, refused aid in moving, and rarely slept.

“That shit you’ve been giving me s’making me see things.” He replied grumpily.

“What kind of things are you seeing?” She handed him the glass of water, making sure it was steady in his hand before she let go.

His blue eyes met her face. There was a long pause between them before he raised the glass to his lips.

Ariel sighed and made herself busy by adjusting the sheets on his bed. “Well, hallucinations can be common. But you need sleep to heal faster, Tommy.” She reminded him.

He didn’t say anything else in response, happy to let the subject drop before she made a bigger deal out of it. He let her take the glass from him and he reached for his cigarettes. His hand trembled as he stuck the smoke between his lips and attempted to light it.

Ariel let him struggle for a few moments before she offered. “You won’t get any better if you keep at it like this?”

“Like what?” He went to run a hand through his hair but caught himself. Half his head was still shaved, the stitches were still in place. Ariel would scold him if he touched the sutures. So, he clenched his fingers and let his hand fall to his lap.

“Being stubborn. You can’t heal on your own, you know. You need others to help you. That’s the way life is.” Ariel put her hands on her hips, facing him with a stern look. “You can’t carry the world on your shoulders.”

Tommy raised his brow as if he was actually responsive to her advice, even when he wasn’t. He’d been carrying the world on his shoulders for a long time. He didn’t intend on stopping.

“Is your sister coming to see you soon?” Ariel moved closer towards him to check his stitches. It was her job, after all, not trying to get him to be more receptive to help.

“Not sure, why do you ask?”

The nurse shrugged. “You always seem to be in a better mood when she comes around. She’s very important to you.”

Tommy hadn’t realized that she’d taken notice of his relationship with Ada. “Am I in a bad mood the other times?”

“I wouldn’t say a bad mood, although the other nurses call you surly.” She informed him with a scolding tone. “You’re prickly, I can agree with them on that. But none of us are going through what you are so I suppose we aren’t ones to judge.”

He almost laughed. Prickly. He’d murdered men with his bare hands before and she was calling him prickly. “I don’t like being like this.”

“I doubt anyone would. Major brain surgery isn’t something to look forward to.” Ariel began cleaning around his stitches, taking as much care to be gentle.

“Just being helpless.” He mumbled and exhaled a breath of smoke. “I want to be able to leave this fucking place.”

“Then you need to listen to me. Listen to the doctor and you’ll be out of here sooner. If you’re stubborn, it’ll take longer. Trust me. I’m only here to help you.” Ariel made sure he was supported enough by the pillows and cleaned up the empty glass of water. “Breakfast will be here soon.”

“Thank you.” Tommy stubbed out his cigarette and watched her leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning, another nurse woke Tommy up. This was uncommon because it was usually Ariel who was there first thing to check on him. He blearily looked around to make sure he was in the same room. Paranoia had gotten to him and he was afraid his enemies would find where he was being treated.

“Good morning, Mr. Shelby.” The nurse greeted with less warmth in her voice than Ariel’s always had.

“Where’s Ariel?” His throat was scratchy from the long night’s sleep, aided by medication.

“It’s her day off.” She replied. “She’ll be back Tuesday.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That put Tommy in a sour mood. He denied breakfast and sulked most of the morning, not giving more than one worded answers to the staff.

Until about two in the afternoon when the door opened. Tommy looked over, surprised to see Ariel dressed in her normal clothing instead of the uniform she worked in.

“They said it was your day off.” He looked confused.

“It is.” She came in, taking off her coat and hat. “So, you should be grateful I’m here at work to keep you company.” She smiled and pulled up a chair.

Tommy was still a bit perplexed but her presence already put him more at ease. “Aye? To do what? Lecture me more?” He teased.

She laughed softly and sat down near his bed. “Your sister said you weren’t happy that you couldn’t read with your headaches. And since I can’t read to you while I’m working, I figured…” She shrugged and set down her purse, sheepishly looking at him.

“You figured…”

“If you don’t want me to stay then I can go. I know I’m coming in unannounced, I just thought we seemed to get along well enough and it’s only your sister coming to visit-”

“I want you to stay.”

Ariel smiled and reached into her purse. “Well, I’m not sure what you like to read. But I have taken to this Agatha Christie novel. I just enjoy the mystery of it all.”

Tommy liked to see her outside of work, shyly telling him about things she enjoyed. It removed him the hospital setting even just in spirit. Sure, they were still there, but she created a different environment for him to settle into.

“Now, I’ve already started it but I’m not too far in. I can go back and start from the beginning just so you’re not confused.” She held up the book to him, one hand touching the cover almost affectionately.

“Of course.” He nodded. “Wouldn’t want to miss any of it.”

Excited that he had taken to the idea, Ariel got comfortable and opened to the first page. She cleared her throat before “’The intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as the Styles Case has now somewhat subsided’”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It became a routine for them before either of them realized. On her days off, Ariel came with The Mysterious Affair at Styles. They exchanged pleasantries, she asked how he was and he wondered if she was having a nice day off. Sometimes they talked about their lives. She learned that he had been married and had a child before he lost his wife. He found out what transpired between her and her family regarding the botched betrothal. Then, Ariel began to read. When she noticed Tommy start to doze off, she marked the line but continued reading. That way, he would still lull off to sleep, but when she returned with the book she would start from where he started to nod off so he didn’t miss anything.

“’No, right the other side of the room. Why? Poirot shrugged his shoulders. I wondered. That is all.’ Oh, did I skip a line…oh no, sorry.”

“Ariel?” Tommy piped up when she broke away from the book’s text.

“Hm?” She looked up.

“When I’m discharged here, will you come and stay at Arrow House with me?”

Ariel couldn’t help her lips from popping open in shock. “In Warwickshire? Why?”

“I would like someone there just to make sure I’m still healing correctly.” It was a feeble excuse, Tommy knew that. But he needed something. He was afraid that when he left the hospital, he wouldn’t see Ariel again. That was something he wouldn’t settle with. He had grown far too fond of her company. “I would pay you and you could stay in the house. Anything you needed you could have. I would take care of you.”

She stared at him with a look of disbelief. What he was offering was so unbelievable. It started off sounding like a job offer but it was starting to morph into something else. What it was, she wasn’t exactly sure. “Tommy…”

“I just wanted-” Never before had he been so at a loss for words in front of her. “I didn’t want to stop seeing you.”

Ariel slowly dog-eared the page they were on and closed the book. “So, you want me to move in with you. To work for you?”

He nodded. His hair had grown back in for the most part and he looked less gaunt and pale. It wouldn’t be more than a week before he was discharged to go home. Once he could walk on his own without assistance, which he was close to. He could get up and wander around the room for a bit. He’d taken to walking slowly down the hall, Ariel by his side to make sure he didn’t get faint or weak. By the time he was home, he wouldn’t need her. Yet, he was offering her a job as a live-in nurse. To do what?

“You won’t need me for longer than a week, Tommy.” She reminded him even though she didn’t want to admit it. Being a nurse, she liked to help everyone. But Tommy was special to her. She couldn’t exactly place a finger on it. Just like when they first met in Alfie’s office. She didn’t know why she was drawn to the mysterious man. But when he spoke so fondly of his son, the light in his blue eyes was irresistible. When she coaxed a smile from him, her heart skipped a beat. The highlight of her day was seeing him.

“I need you.” His words came out vulnerable and almost breathless. He wouldn’t look away from her though, he was serious.

“I-” She stammered for a moment. “I need you too.” She whispered in response.

The relief on his face was evident. She had no idea how long he was planning to ask her to stay at Arrow House. Worried she would pull away, he kept putting it off. But now things were in place. Everything would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“’What is it, mon ami? Nothing, I said sadly. They are two delightful women. And neither of them is for you, finished Poirot. Never mind. Console yourself, my friend. We may hunt together again, who knows. And then’”

Tommy had his face turned up to the dull sunlight that was straining to break through the moody gray sky. He was reclined back in the wrought iron chair that was placed out in the expansive lawn of Arrow House. He opened one eye to glance over at Ariel when she stopped abruptly. “And then what?”

“That’s it. That’s the end.” She shut the now worn book and set it on the table in front of them.

“Hm." He frowned and closed his eye again.

“Did you like it?” She wondered.

“I liked you reading it to me.”

Ariel smiled and reached over to touch his hand. She had been at Arrow House for two weeks and it had been the best decision of her life. Charlie had taken to her, enjoying her company. The little boy was just as happy to have his father back home.

And Tommy. Well, he was something else outside of the hospital. Not in a bad way, it was just good to see him settling back into his own life. Being able to do things on his own and resuming the confident airs he had before. But since Ariel had seen him at his weakest, he entrusted a great deal in her.

He kissed her for the first time after she wished him a good night. He was so much gentler than she expected. After what he’d been through, she expected him to be tough towards everything in life. But he wasn’t guarded with her.

Although the arrangement was strange and Ariel wasn’t sure where it would lead, she was more than happy to follow.

“Well, I suppose it’s perfect timing,” Tommy said as he opened his eyes and saw Mary coming across the lawn to talk to them. “I have a meeting soon.”

Although Ariel protested, he was already getting back into work. She urged him to lay low just a bit longer but it was difficult to keep him in a calm state.

“Mr. Shelby, your brothers are here.” Mary said when she was close enough. “And a man who’s only called himself the Wandering Jew.”

Tommy didn’t seem as perplexed with the odd moniker. He simply sat up with a sigh and let Ariel’s hand slip from his. “I’ll be back, you relax.” He told her and kissed the top of her dark hair.

Ariel looked confused. Wandering Jew? What on Earth? But she just nodded and watched him and Mary walk back to the massive estate. She tried to take it easy and soak up what little sun there was out. But she couldn’t get her mind to stop running amok.

Then, she suddenly sat up with a gasp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy was about to tell Alfie that he was in need of glasses when the door to his study opened.

Ariel and Alfie stared at each other, both completely at a loss for why the other was there.

“Ariel Solomons, have you lost your fucking mind?” Alfie went from zero to a hundred within seconds. “The whole fucking family has been looking for you for months!” He shouted. “We’ve ‘bout lost our damn minds ‘cause you decided to disappear off the face of the fucking planet! Now you end up at Tommy Fucking Shelby’s?” He stormed towards her with an angry look.

“Don’t speak to me like that. There’s a reason I left!” She had no issue raising her voice right back at him.

“It’s tradition, Ariel, you’re acting like a child!”

“Fuck tradition, you just want to control me.” She spat back at him and lifted her chin, unafraid of her cousin.

Alfie grunted and turned around to face Tommy. “As for you, mate, I fucking told ya to stay the hell away from her. Now she’s here? I swear I’m gonna fucking shoot you, Tommy.” He growled and a hand went to his waistband.

“If you touch him I’ll kill you.” Ariel snarled. “So don’t even threaten him.”

Alfie looked utterly at a loss for words. When on Earth had this all happened? His cousin disappeared and he finds her shacked up with a Shelby? It was like the worst was happening all at once. What would their family all say? “You can’t be serious!”

“I love him. I’m serious about that.” She asserted and moved to stand beside Tommy.

“Love? You don’t know what love is, Ari.” He scoffed.

“And you do?” She shot back. “You’ve never loved anyone!”

Alfie’s eyes narrowed at her. “This ain’t happening.” He desperately tried to get a hold of the situation.

“It’s already happened. You can’t stop it.”

“Alfie, I don’t intend on letting you breaking up our relationship.” Tommy finally spoke up. His stance protective by Ariel. “If this will be an issue then it’s an issue between us. It doesn’t involve her.”

Alfie threw his hands up with a noise of frustration. “Fucking hell you two are gonna drive me mad!” He exclaimed. “What do you think this is gonna do to your mother, aye? What’ll she think? What’ll Camden think? We’ll be the fucking laughingstock of London!”

Ariel crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care. Tommy makes me happy.”

“Happy. Love, you don’t know what the fuck that man’s capable of. You can’t be happy with him.”

“What sort of things do you do?” She retorted angrily. “Was I ever safe with you? Was I ever safe with our family? How can you even say that?”

Alfie was starting to realize he was losing the fight. “Can’t fucking believe this.” He turned away from them, running a hand over his mouth. “Fuck’s sake.”

Ariel reached for Tommy’s hand, refusing to let her cousin tear them apart.

“Alfie, you know I wouldn’t hurt her.” Tommy’s voice softened.

The man wanted to bring up Grace’s death but the words wouldn’t come out. He let out an exasperated sigh and faced them again. Knowing how stubborn his cousin was, he knew he wasn’t going to win. “I apologize for having good sense.” He muttered.

A small smile formed on Ariel’s lips when she realized Alfie was turning around. “I’ll never stop caring about our family, Alfie, but I can’t help who I love.”

Alfie grimaced and pointed his cane at Tommy. “If you fuck up, I’m going to put your head on a pike outside me bakery.” He threatened with all the intention in the world.

Tommy nodded. “I’d expect nothing less.”

He glared at the two of them for a moment. “Fucking hell.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine. Stubborn git.” He muttered.

Tommy sneaked a smile to Ariel whose eyes lit up with triumph.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea

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experiencenaturetoday · 3 years

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Ready for a slice of heaven? We are no stranger to decadent and rich cakes. But what about a cake recipe where butter, fat, and egg yolks run away in fright? Meet angel food cake. Angel food cake is a low fat cake recipe made mostly from egg whites, cake flour, and sugar. It’s pristine white on the inside with a chewy light brown crumb around the exterior. What it lacks in butter makes up for in texture. This tall, tender, and timeless cake has a cloud-like crumb and ultra light flavor.

You only need 6 ingredients to make angel food cake. With so little ingredients, understand that each one is imperative to the cake’s final taste and texture. Here’s the breakdown:

Granulated Sugar: The recipe begins with granulated sugar. Pulse it in a food processor to create superfine sugar. Superfine sugar’s granules are the best size to provide optimal structure for angel food cake. It’s not as coarse as granulated sugar and not as fine as confectioners’ sugar. Granulated sugar is simply too coarse, while confectioners’ sugar dissolves too quickly in the egg whites.

Cake Flour: Cake flour is a low protein flour and yields a tender angel food cake. Do not use all-purpose flour because the cake will taste like white bread…! In a pinch, you can use this cake flour substitute. But real cake flour is ideal.

Salt: Adds flavor.

Egg Whites: You’ll notice there’s no baking powder or baking soda. The egg whites are actually the sole leavening ingredient providing all the cake’s rise. Use freshly separated eggs because they aerate the best. Carton egg whites or egg whites that have been frozen won’t expand as much during the whipping process, which will negatively affect the rise of your cake. You’ll have a lot of leftover egg yolks, so make some lemon curd and serve it with the cake!

Cream of Tartar: Cream of tartar is an acid and stabilizes the whipped egg whites, just as it does in my chocolate swirled meringue cookies too. Without it, the cake would collapse. Other acids, such as lemon juice, can work but they aren’t nearly as effective. Cream of tartar is found in the spice aisle and is actually a common baking ingredient. I have many recipes calling for it!

Vanilla Extract: Adds flavor.

How to Make Perfect Angel Food Cake

I’m confident this will be the most perfect angel food cake to ever hit your lips. We can’t achieve angel food cake perfection for free, so make sure you follow these steps closely.

Pulse the granulated sugar into superfine sugar. Use a food processor or blender.

Set 1 cup of the superfine sugar aside. You’ll add it to the egg whites.

Add cake flour and salt to food processor. Pulse them with the remaining sugar. This aerates the dry ingredients.

Beat egg whites and cream of tartar together. Beat on medium-low speed until foamy.

Slowly add 1 cup of superfine sugar. Turn the mixer up to medium-high and pour in the superfine sugar you set aside.

Beat into soft peaks. Whip the egg whites, cream of tartar, and superfine sugar into soft and lofty peaks. This takes at least 5 minutes. After that, add the vanilla.

Sift and fold in dry ingredients. In 3 additions, sift and fold in the dry ingredients.

Pour/spread batter into a tube pan. Do not grease the tube pan. Greasing the pan causes the batter to slip down the sides, preventing it from properly rising. If you already greased it, wash and wipe it completely clean.

Bake at 325°F (163°C). A higher temperature won’t properly cook the cake.

Cool upside down on a wire rack. If cooled upright, the cake’s own weight will crush itself. Cool it upside-down on a cooling rack so it holds its shape and air can reach it.

Run a thin knife around the edges to release. Tap the pan on the counter a few times to help loosen the cake, too.

Slice with a serrated knife. A regular sharp knife squishes the cake.

Can I use a bundt pan for angel food cake? No, do not use a bundt pan for angel food cake. You’ll have a very hard time getting it out in one piece. You need a tube pan which has a flat bottom and straight sides. If you don’t have one, I recommend this tube pan. It’s relatively inexpensive for its great quality. Though it’s labeled as nonstick, the coating is VERY thin and has never been an issue for my angel food cakes.

You need 1 cup (16 Tablespoons) + 2 Tablespoons of cake flour. Sounds like an odd amount, but 18 Tablespoons is the precise quantity to bring enough structure to the cake.

Soft Peaks, Not Stiff Peaks

Remember, whip the egg whites into soft peaks. (Pictured above.) Soft peaks don’t hold a stiff shape. Instead, they “wilt” back into the mixture after a few seconds. Soft peaks are the optimum consistency because they’ll continue to expand in the oven. Stiff peaks, on the other hand, means that the egg whites have been over-whipped for angel food cake and will likely collapse in the oven.

Important to remember: Don’t let a drop of egg yolks into the mixing bowl. Any lingering fat could prevent the egg whites from forming peaks at all. Crack eggs over an egg separator into a small bowl, then add the whites one-by-one into the mixing bowl. This way if the yolk breaks, it doesn’t break directly in the mixing bowl.

Sift the dry ingredients over the beaten egg whites in a few additions, gently folding together after each addition. The goal is to retain as much of the whipped volume as possible. Pouring the dry ingredients on top all at once will quickly deflate the egg whites.

The Magic is in the Details

I’ve thrown a lot of information at you in this post, so here’s a quick summary of all the important success tips. Remember that the magic is all in the details.

Use freshly separated egg whites.

Pulse granulated sugar into superfine sugar.

Whip egg whites into soft peaks, not stiff peaks.

Sift and gently fold in dry ingredients.

Do not grease the tube pan.

Cool the cake upside-down on a wire rack.

Use a serrated knife to slice.

Angel food cake doesn’t need to hide under frosting, but tastes blissful with fresh berries and a dollop of whipped cream! Feel free to dust the top with confectioners’ sugar, too. If you enjoy these flavors together, you’ll love my fresh berry cream cake. (Which, if I’m being honest, isn’t quite as fussy as this cake!)

I know what you’re thinking: is this cake really worth it? The answer is YES. Angel food cake boasts a texture like no other and once you go through the process, you’ll understand the preparation isn’t that difficult– it’s just a little picky. 😉 Let’s do this!

#angel food cake #cake #foodporn

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tommyplum · 5 years

Audio

- transcription by maggie of @tommyplum

You see the idea I fucking hate the most, right, is that everything starts off perfect, yeah, and then it gets worse. That is demonstrably not fucking true. Some things are just born bad. Some people are born with no intention to do anything good on this earth, and they carry out their plan to deceive and cheat and rob and de-sanctify all that is holy just because that is the way that they were born. That's how they are. That's what they do, it is relentless. Relentlessly! Their creed runs thus: if I can, I will rob you. If I must I will kill you, if you let me I will fuck you, when I've fucked you I will leave you.

My father, Alfred Solomons Senior, was such a man with such a creed. He was a dispenser, a dispenser of semen to the gullible and the bewildered, a maker of bastards on a scale unseen since Genghis fucking Khan. A barbarian for whom every empty womb was Rome. He planted the seeds but he did not tend the gardens; he stayed only long enough to piss on the compost. And behead the roses to sell at Summerstown at the market there. With his stolen roses in his pockets he would leap the garden gate, leave them behind, only to send around marzipan, tobacco, and Portugal Water, which he did – he sold out of his suitcase, right, at sixpence a bottle.

At least, that is what I've been told. Yeah, so I'm fucking told, because all I ever saw of him was his fucking hat! It was hanging on the wall, on a nail, above the seat where my mother washed other people's laundry. That hat was a holy relic. Was size eight-and-a-half, made in Luton, where the hat-makers go insane on the fumes of their trade and leave little messages sewn under the hat-bands. The message in my father's hat was this:

THIS HAT, RIGHT, IS A KETTLE. IN WHICH TO BOIL UP YOUR WICKED DREAMS AND MAKE A SOUP OF YOUR SOUL.

It is the hat that actually I wear to this day. It still smells of Portugal Water and when I wear it the schemes and proposals come out of the darkness as if seeping out of the felt and the leather that is stained with his erotic sweat. My mother washed bedsheets. My father was a fucking hat. No kisses, no bedtime stories, just parcels of sheets to deliver to the hotels and the brothels of Camden Town for nothing more than black bread and a pinch from the priest who would then open up his robes when I passed and from that, I drew my dark and accurate conclusions on religion.

So, Alfie Solomons Junior grew untended and wild, a stem with a-hardly a root sticking up like a skinny cock out of the gutter so every nasty little Christian kid walking by their nasty little Christian school with their gropey old Christian masters could kick it down, and stomp on it, and shout, "It was you lot who killed Jesus, ahhh! So have that in your belly, and have that in your face, and see it as charity we're not nailing you up like you did our Lord." But every time I got stomped down I fucking stomped back up again, mate. I survived out of spite. And instead of learning how to fight, I learned how to put right the wrongs done unto me tenfold. A hundr—a thousandfold, yea, unto the fucking stars, right? By using the bit of my body that God had cleverly put inside a strong bone box so the kicks and the digs could not reach it.

The bit of me that is my brain.

With the help of the alchemy of my Portugal Water hat, and the strong bone box, I processed the schemes and solutions the mad hatters of Luton and my father had put there; my brain a factory producing schemes and solutions, dodges and speculations, ways around, ways to undermine, a trickle at night and a flood in the day when I unlock my bakery and smell the aroma of secrets, and sin, and begin the process of accumulation.

I am the chairman of Alfie Solomons’ Aerated Bread Company, of Bonny Street, Camden Town, to be precise. My two vice chairmen are Mister Threat and Mister Violence, and the former I prefer, but! But. The latter is necessary to support the former, because without violence there is no threat, and without threat there is no accumulation. Without accumulation? Well there's just no fucking point, mate.

As a baker, I occasionally sell bread. As a bookmaker, I occasionally let the fastest horse win. As a landlord, I occasionally have a roof fixed. But mostly I find it is quicker and it is easier to deal with the complainant, right, rather than deal with the complaint.

From all of this you are drawing your conclusions: Alfie Solomons, begat from a bad man, and – beguiled by a hat-band – became a bad man who inspires bad men to do bad things in bad ways to good people who have bad bad luck! But is good enough to at least admit he's a fucking bad, bad man! Hnnnnff.

…but. Consider this, right? In all my years, yeah, as a baker in Camden Town, I have overseen – I have organized, or otherwise been responsible for – the deaths, right, of thirty-five fucking men. All of whom, I'll have you know, attend my dreams each night in various disguises, in regular order, with no pattern or logic to it but with the consequence that I wake up each morning in sheets that have been – they have to be wrung out, from sweat, right, by my maid Edna. Who, it should be noted, I have never had an evil thought about in fifteen years because when she washes my sweat from the sheets she reminds me of my poor mother, now residing in Hell and washing the robes of Satan himself.

So. Thirty-five men, thirty-five times … I am a bad man. But here is where mathematics comes to my rescue. Logic rides in like an accountant on a penny-farthing just in time to wave proof of mitigation before moral bankruptcy is officially declared, yeah? Here it is, ahrummm, here is what logic puts forward in my defense:

In France, right, Passchendaele for example, take one day, one hour, one fucking second: I am standing, right, in the uncultivated mud, a stem with hardly a root; in my hands, I have an artillery shell. It is the size and weight of a newborn baby. A little bastard, made in Birmingham, sharp-nosed, the colour of the morning sky; and in that one second, one fucking second of one day, of one month, of four years, in that one second I feed that baby to the upturned mortar barrel arse-first. I turn, I put my fingers in my ears, and … BOOM. I send my baby into the morning sky, to do the only job it was ever, ever intended to do. Two seconds later, another boom, and there, in the mud, over there, lie thirty-six men.

Brown bread.

The thirty-six killed by the soldier, right, are just as dead, right, as the thirty-five killed by the baker. But the thirty-six, they do not attend my dreams and are not there in God's ledger counting the good against the bad. I was given a medal for the thirty-six. But I took a bullet from the Peaky Blinders for the thirty-five. So.

Therefore, my beloved congregation, I will leave you with this conclusion, right:

There is no good and there is no bad that is categorical in this world beyond the calculations of powerful men, right, who shift the definition according to their own selfish schemes of accumulation. The only things that are categorical are life and death, and for argument's sake we say life is good, and death is bad – purely, purely, for argument's sake. Which means … which means my father was fucking right, mate. You dispense your semen, you piss on the compost, you deadhead the fucking roses, leap the garden gate, take what you’ve stolen to market and you sell it at a reasonable price, leaving behind only your hat and the scent of your fucking wares, mate.

That is the creed of Alfie Solomons. A lame shepherd among nimble goats who nevertheless at the stable doors shall be counted and accumulated as lambs to my gentle slaughter. Because never forget this, right:

Alfie Solomons is always waiting.

#tom hardy #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #the gospel of alfie solomons #steven knight

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molly-rapozo · 3 years

Text

Home, Palaces, Expanses Alike

I’m looking towards the window, the one with four panes that looks out over the vast expanse of the desert. The top of a mesa floats above all the brown and orange rocks glittered with green pines and brush. The white chiffon curtains that frame my view come in and out of the picture, creating a separate and equally beautiful picture of their own. How inventive they are.

This is my mind palace. Welcome, greetings, slip off your shoes at the front door, if you will? Right at the doormat, yes, that’s a perfect spot. You’re such a respectful guest. Thank you.

Thank you for stopping by too! I recently discussed the mind palace idea with my dear friend, Marin, and I’ve decided to conjure it into a real existence.

The conversation started with us reading passages from our iPhone notes to each other. What an intimate experience that was! I kept my mouth shut and didn’t read so many things for fear of being too exposed, even though I was reading these notes to someone who knows me better than most.

I didn’t read the notes that said “FOCUS ON WHAT YOU CAN CONTROL AND BE GRATEFUL FOR THAT.” I did not read, “I stopped thinking about the distant future when I realized I can’t control it.” I did not read a personal favorite of mine, for fear that it may be too personal. “A lonely walk to expand the inner life so much that it’s bursting out of its cage.” Or what came after:

“I realized today that I’m still terrified of being alone.”

All these tails and snips are from years ago. Maybe I felt they weren’t relevant to read anymore? Or maybe it was that they didn’t seem as fun. Which would you rather: musings on loneliness or an excerpt from when another friend of mine and I decided to give everyone we mutually knew a spirit-candy? I’m Fun Dip.

What I did read was a quote from my brother’s girlfriend, which she exclaimed while she was in deep focus over a puzzle:

“I was sitting there in my mind palace, doing the sky.”

God, how I latched to mind palace. My castle, right there! Right at the tip top of my head! What a pleasant picture.

I read Marin my quote and mentioned that I do really love the words “mind palace.” Marin explained to me that it’s a common therapy technique to create a real mind palace. A happy place, if you will. One with texture and shape and not just a figment of the imagination but the physical realm of your imagination, your images, your memories. Your home.

My college years were spent trying to charge in the opposite direction of homesickness. The feeling becomes inescapable when you search in all the wrong places. All I wanted, needed, was a spot in the world for my warm, stunning, ruby red heart. Things could have been so much simpler if I had known that I had access to my own home, at all times. The only spot in the world for my heart is my heart. Right here!

I am cycling through a few mind palaces. Trying on different fits and shapes. The desert home, for example.

This image seems to fit nicely: a big, soft nest. Nestled in the cup formed at the intersection of one large branch breaking off into several smaller branches. A sturdy home nestled in a possible infinity. The nest is dome-shaped, with a small entrance on the side — a winter wren’s nest. You’ll know it by its adornment of thick, green moss and spruce twigs. Plush and structurally sound, all at once.

Step inside my beautiful wren’s nest. The walls are curved because it’s a dome, isn’t that so cool? You’ll see a table to the right of the door way, with enough seats for everyone. A small lamp illuminates the spread of red, red raspberry jam, a crock of butter, a nutty and seedy bread, and a fresh pot of tea, steam still rising out of it smooth and steady and dancing, like silk on a clothesline shifting with the wind. There’s a few books I’m currently reading on the table, with shreds of paper and post-its torn in half sticking out from the pages. I love to take notes. Feel free to read a little, if you’d like. The books are really good.

There’s a small cup for cream, if that is how you take your tea. I saw a cow shaped one a few years ago in a coffee shop. When you poured, the cream flowed from the cow’s mouth. It’s a really silly image when you think about it. Perhaps that’s the one I have, here, in my wren’s nest mind palace. A novelty creamer seems like a good fit, as goofing off is one of my favorite hobbies. You and I laugh over tea about how silly it is that a cow would let the milk fall out of its mouth instead of its udders.

Look around, there’s a bed against the far wall to the right, just past the table. I’ve tried to make this the coziest, most fluffy place in the whole house. There are quite a few pillows, just so that I can sit up in bed without ruining my back. Although, I probably still will.

My love for being in bed has no bounds. According to my partner, I announce at least once a day my love for laying in bed. It seems to me this may be a subconscious requirement, like when a dog has to circle in place anywhere from five to fifteen circles before it can comfortably plop down. There will be no proper settling until I have made fanfare.

The wall in direct opposition to the door has a small window, framed by a twist of twigs and the same white chiffon curtains, twisting a little with the breeze. The window is above the kitchen sink and it looks out over the vast meadow that the tree sits on the very edge of. Below, it’s spring. It’s daisy and tall grasses and cowslips for as far as the eye can see. Come back inside, though, let me continue my tour.

There’s a small fridge, a small cabinet for pantry items. A shelf for root vegetables, mostly tubers and sweet onions and garlic. Plenty of treats too — I rely heavily on the dark chocolate I keep on hand. I eat it as a good day celebration, a bad day salve, and, often, a reward for finishing a grueling task.

To the left of the door, a book case, stacked with many read and unread books. There are quite a few options. I have a small worktable for projects of the textile sort, lit by another small lamp. You could pick up some scraps, if you feel inspired. I enjoy the glow of the lamp but if I could, the whole house would be lit by many candlesticks, scattered all over. I guess I could do that. It is my mind palace, after all. But logistically, I’m working with fabrics and yarns over here. And if I were to get into a passioned frenzy over a project, what if I flung a patchwork block onto a flame? That just simply would not be good for a house of twigs. Or my quilt.

Oh! I’ve just had the best idea. A patchwork with scorched edges. How interesting. A discussion for another day, I suppose.

Another version of my mind palace could take place with an ocean view. Who doesn’t enjoy the sound of waves crashing against a rocky shoreline? It’s a sound I didn’t know I liked so much until I moved close to the ocean (well, in the ocean, kind of?). I am able to visit the beach from time to time. Watching the water roll in — cobalt to light blue aerated water to white and foamy against the jet black lava rocks — is a very pleasant way to pass the time, if time’s what you’ve got.

I think what most appeals to me about the idea of mind palaces is the daydream aspect of it all. As one who frequently drifts off into dreamtime all day long, I did really enjoy the lost hour I spent writing the above narrative about my nest. Lost feels like the wrong word, as what’s more productive than building an entire world from scratch?

Focus on what you can control and be grateful for that.

I’m not sure this is really headed anywhere other than a heavy-handed suggestion to build your own mind palace.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I might take a lonely walk and explore the expanse of my world upstairs. Let it burst out of its cage, if you know what I’m saying.

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hasufin · 4 years

Text

On evolution and food

Have you ever thought about how incredibly wild bread is?

It’s like this.

First, you take the seeds of a domesticated, modified to hell and back grass. Oh, and not Just Any grass. you need one of a handful of specific grasses that have this protein called gluten. Most grasses won’t work, only a few of the ones that grow in hot, dry climates.

You, you take those seeds. And in a really painstaking process you remove the chaff and hull. Okay, that makes sense, inasmuch as you do a similar thing with other nuts and seeds, but the scale you’ve gotta do it at means you literally have to invent industry to make it practical.

And then, do you eat the seeds? Nooooo. You crush them into a freaking powder. Literally into dust. You have to invent entire new methods to grind stuff up to get it fine enough.

Done now? Can we eat? Not yet!

Now you take that seed dust and you mash it up with water. Sometimes you add oil, or eggs, or milk, or plenty of other stuff. And also, um, this wild fungus stuff that... you don’t understand but it’s important. Anyway, you’re making it into this paste. Actually not really a paste, that would be too easy. You work with what seems like nowhere near enough water and keep adding your seed dust until you get this... well, it’s not like anything else. It’s sorta spongy but also rubbery and it’s not dry but it’s definitely not wet.

And you don’t eat that!

You let it sit there for hours and hours. You literally let it do a thing that we’d call “going bad” if it wasn’t what we wanted it to do. And you mush it down again a couple of times.

And then you shove it into a specially prepared hot box or kettle thing. Anymore it often has to be a very special hot box, a normal hot box won’t do. And you leave it there for like, another hour.

Only then do you have food. Some bread recipes - take two days or more to make, and that’s not counting thigns like milling the flour.

Isn’t that crazy? How the hell did we get there?

Like, I get the first couple of stages. I’ve had oatmeal. Unlike a lot of people, I have also made rye, triticale, and of course there’s wheat farina. “This stuff is hard and dry, I will soak it in water” becomes “maybe if i heated the water” and also “if I ground this up it would soften faster”.

From there you end up with stuff like waybread: “What if I dried out the thick porridge by the fire” “Oh, that is much easier to carry around and lasts for a long time, this is nice”.

And, well... that’s all pretty straightforward. We do a lot of that today. We don’t eat bannocks so much, but we totally do pancakes which are an obvious evolution and you can see how someone got from there to here. (Side note: I totally have to do finely ground oats and make oatcakes like pancakes now. Or maybe find oat flour).

But we still eat pancakes today. We even eat unleavened pancakes:

But there just seems like a leap which doesn’t make sense. A couple of them, even. The big sticking point is the yeast. You’ve gotta assume that people just... decided to gather the stuff wild, grow it (somehow), NOT grow the stuff that would kill them at the same time, and keep doing it. And the entire process for making this work out to yield the fluffy, aerated loaves of bread we make today just doesn’t break down. It seems, to use a term enjoyed by creationists, like a case of irreducible complexity. You’d think that maybe chemical leavening bridges that gap - that we could make kinda spongy stuff using certain minerals, some of which can literally be mined like salt - but we eventually figured out a way to Do Better With Science, but that’s totally not how it happened: chemical leavening like baking soda and baking power are 18th and 19th century inventions. We’d been eating bread, recognizably like the modern stuff, for millennia.

Much like with biological evolution, it turns out there are transitional forms - culinary fossils, if you will - but they’re not so commonly known. Actually they’re super common, just not in the USA.

First, observe gözleme. Gözleme is a Turkish flatbread.

You make the dough, you roll it flat, you fill it and you grill it. Sorta like a pancake, but different in some really important ways. The most interesting thing about gözleme is, it’s entirely unleavened but you still have to knead it and let it rest! It’s made with wheat flour, which holds together quite well as a dough, but to roll out the dough as thin as you need to for gözleme, you need to let it relax for a little while first.

So you’ve got the kneading and resting, even though you don’t have any yeast.

And there’s even another transitional step: pide.

PIde is sometimes described as “Turkish pizza” but that’s deeply unfair. “Pizza” is a corruption of “pita”, and “pita” is a Greek bread which is nearly identical to pide... in other words, “pizza” is American pide, But I digress.

Pide is pretty much the same as gözleme, except for the addition of yeast and a slightly longer resting time. It’s like bread as we know it, but much simpler and takes less time. The dough is also rather softer and doesn’t need to be kneaded nearly so much.

The only part this leaves is the yeast itself. How the heck did we end up using this fungus powder stuff at all? How did we make that jump from gözleme to pide?

Turns out this is pretty obvious - just not to a modern audience. Historical recipes usually call for specific sources for their yeast - usually from beer, which historically had live cultures. The brewing process, for reasons I’m not going to get into here, was less likely to yield toxic molds. And once a good bread yeast had been found, great pains were taken to maintain it. Often a bit of yesterday’s dough was used to rise today’s bread, yielding an unbroken chain which could go back years or even generations. The yeast-filled dough would sometimes be dried out without baking, and could be reactivated much later. We also retain traditions of things like sourdough starters and the like. Most of these methods are cumbersome, and have largely been replaced with the convenience of dried commercial yeast, but they’re still around.

The first time someone added yeast to bread was likely an accident. Once that happened, we seem to have kept the idea - and the yeast - alive.

One thing I’ve noticed in learning these things is, some of the transitional forms are honestly better than the modern convenience. Sure, I cold make bread in a bread machine and use it to make some kind of cheese-and-spinach sandwich, but I don’t think it would be as good - gözleme and pide were apparently so good people at the time stopped doing what they have been doing before, and that’s one hell of a review.

#food

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dreamer230810 · 2 years

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Chapter 6

Business

Came to the bakery, ready for the challenge. 100 Birmingham boys standing in the queue to his office. One by one coming in and out.

“Hello, Alfie” I came into the office. Waiting for his reaction. He didn’t say anything just showed me to sit down on the chair in the corner.

“Next Lad! Name ?”

“Abbey Heath”

“Abbie Heath. Profession?”

“Baker”

“Good lad, fill it out, fuck off.” - Alfie was given an envelope with forms to fill in and Ollie passed them the baker apron.

“Next Lad! Name? “

“Buddy Halls.”

“Buddy Halls. Right, profession?”

“Baker”

“ Good lad, fill it out, fuck off. Next Lad! Name ?”

“Billy Kitchen”

“Billy Kitchen. Occupation? “

“Head Baker” Alfie took his glasses down and looked and me and then at Billy. Then he just smiled at him.

“Fill it out” - Billy left the office, Alfie started talking to Ollie “Tommy Shelby, mate. Never give power to the big man, what did I tell you? Mmm? Never give power to the big man. Next Lad!”

After two hours all men was was given what they needed. Alfie laid back on his chair, looking at me all the time.

“Come here Love, sit on my lap” I came like a good puppy that was called by his master. Sat down on his lap he hold me by my tights and back. Rubbing one of his hands up and down my back.

“ Do you know why I wanted to see all these lads while they enrolled? Hmm? Because I want to know all this fuckers how they look like alive. If you talk to them or smile or anything else I will kill every single one!” I haven't said anything back I just looked him in his eyes. And for the second time since we began our relationship, I was scared of him. “Now get up and let’s go say Hello to you fucking brother and the new lads. A proper introduction to what is fucking going on.”

On the factory floor was my brother with all the men and Billy. I and Alfie came at the right moment. “All right Boys - Tommy began- you now all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated bread company of Camden Town. If anyone asks, that’s what you do. You’re bakers. The coppers in Camden Town are on our side but north and south, you show them that piece of paper. Tell them you’ve come down from north to find work. To break strikes. Tell them you’re fascist if you have to. We’re finding lodging for you but for now, you’ll sleep here in the bakery. Don’t touch any of the bread, it’ll most likely explode. Any questions? “- one of the lads put his hand up” yes?”

“I haven’t even seen any bread” - all the boys started laughing. But Tommy's face didn’t change he was still calm and serious. Alfie came closer to Tommy, in his hand, he had a metal cane, then he looked at the lad who make the joke. He smacked the man next to him with the cane in his face, he fall to the floor. Alfie turned back and looked at me. Then turner back to the joker.

“He’ll wake up. He won’t have any teeth left. But he will be a wiser man for it. And the last thing he will remember is your funny little joke. Won’t he? - he was looking at him and sending him a warning - “Right!! There are fucking rules here, yeah? There are fucking rules for a fucking reason. Quite simply they have to be obeyed. All right? - giving his speech he was walking back and forth so everyone could see and hear him- “Rule number one. The distinction between bread and rum… That is not discussed. Rule number two. Anything right, that your superior officer says to you or any of your other fucking superior officers say to you, yeah? Not discussed! Rule number three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. I don’t care… For the rest of the fucking miserable, measly lives yeah? Because I like you, I’m also a complete fucking sodomite. Jewish women. You do not go anywhere near them because Jewish women for you are of the fucking menu. I think that’s fair. And last, do you all see this beauty over there? Some of you already know her as the Shelby sister, but here she is not one of them, so no one talks, smiles or even looks at her - pointing his finger at me- when she comes to the bakery ” He turned to his left side where Bill Kitchen was standing and looked at him. Even tho Billy was taller than him, Alfie was more intimidating.“Hmmm…. Hm…. Oh, that’s it then. Forgive me. I interrupted you” he looked at Tommy and me. There was silence. I smiled at Tommy but I knew he was not happy that Alfie did bring me down with him for business. Alfie stood next to me.

“Pick him up” Tommy instructed to the lands. He walked towards Billy “ Get them out of here and make this fucking work”

“Don’t fuking wait” - Billy took control over the men- “You're meant to be fucking soldiers. You’re a fucking disgrace. GO!” Tommy took out of his coat a pack of cigarettes and give me one. Alfie left the room for a second with the lads.

“Thank you, Tommy”

“Ok?” As always worries about me.

“Why are you here? Did he say anything to you?”

“No, nothing” - I wanted to change the subject before Alfie comes back- “Are you here alone? Is John or Arthur with you?

“No. I’m on my own this time. Do you want me to tell John to come here?”

“Is alright Tom, I will be alright”

——

“What the fuck Alfie?! - I stormed into his office-“What were you thinking?! First, you take me for your big fucking speech. Getting me involved in your business. I have not fucking asked for that?! And then you go meet up with Sabini to go behind my brothers back. And then just to make it more interesting you killed Billy Kitchen and nearly killed my brother Arthur!”

“Business is business love.”

“Go to hell Alfie! I’m leaving, going back home to Birmingham.” I was so angry I have just slammed the office door on my way out. I could not believe it when I got the telegram from Thomas this morning saying Alfie betrayed him and killed Billy, Arthur in bad shape. I could not just sit here and let him do such horrible things to my family. I took a taxi to the train station. Alfie did let me go as no one was chasing after me. This was it. ——— “There you are, how you feel. We weren’t sure if you will come back home after what happened” I just hugged John tight as I was about to burst into tears.

“There was no other option John, I had to come back home.”

“He used you for his business with Tommy. He is a bad man Aggie. Just forget about him” “I can’t John, is not that easy to get over Alfie Solomon” We draw home in silence.

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justinehudock · 3 years

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Luçien Petiot, Spacefarer.

Going to Earth was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I felt helpless, wet, and generally uncomfortable about the whole darn thing. When I touched down onto the land of grapey Sardinian groves and meat-shreddy delicatessens and boring yellow houses that make the third planet from the Sun the place to be that it is for most beings, I was a newborn. How cute! And as a newborn, I was still enslimed in that lip-glossy coating of placenta like a parmesan chicken cutlet post-egging, pre-breading. They named me Luçien Petiot, a very fine name for any male French newborn, though I prefer to call myself “I”, despite my mother’s objections to get as much mileage out of this really super nice name as I can. She’s an odd woman, my mother. “Melinda Terry”. Very modern. So modern she didn’t take my name in birth. And she was exercising her extreme modernness when, three months pregnant with me and also, not insignificantly, hard up for cash, Melinda applied to be in a clutch of young pregnant women to be “pressed under the thumb” (she’s stupidly florid, I don’t know) of one of France’s more daring late 21st century experimental national space programs: giving birth in space. “Like the universe does™”, to take the slogan from the pamphlet the gov sent out. I used shreds of it sometimes to pad my duck stuffing.

In the large print, the authorities assured applicants that the process was, theoretically, totally safe. That the terrible pressure of the government’s metaphorical big surveilling eyes, watching and observing, noting and looking, would encourage super fast birthing, aside from giving accepted applicants a really cool story to share with friends and family, a neat certificate, a souvenir moonrock that looks just like a regular rock but in fact isn’t, and, they were told, even better oxidation to their new infant’s brain because of the ultra-pure supply that spacemen get and we earthmen don’t; not all dirty like our tree air. A step in the right direction, you’d think, but in fact I’ve just experienced a lot more farting between my encephalonic folds. It’s all gilded oxygen. My thoughts are interrupted all the time. You never think fart sounds will get old, but boy you’d be wrong about that.

Melinda was, pretty remarkably, among hundreds and thousands of other women, selected to be the experiment’s only off-white subject. Among her co-subjects there were also a sundry of browns, several dusty blues, a pair of tuscan suns, a currant, and even one bright mulberry pink mother, Miss Rea, who had been, as her name comically predestined, remiss. She neglected her oxygen mask back on the launch facility green, still in the hands of the engineer she had been chatting up with the story of how she was just about to be a spacefarer. Let her talk, we said, certain this was foreshadowing something pretty funny. I’ve been told that my own mother, actually, did have an extra mask to spare, but she imagined there might be a better use for it in aerating a bottle of wine that had been brought to toast the many births. Miss Rea was so humiliated, the story goes, slowly suffocating to death as new life was being brought about all around her, drinking to it, toasting it, as I mentioned before. It was taunting. “Look, even a tiny baby can do it,” our loud first breaths rubbing her magenta face, choking on its final few, into it. I think perhaps that she wanted to die, in the end, to spare herself this acerbity of embarrassment. And so she did. Ah.

It was a necessary experiment for the golden age of French research advancement, characterized by massive increases to the scientific pursuits budget, free enterprise, lots of very friendly under-the-table bailouts and smiling at one another. Despite how I felt about it all, as a subject, I can admit that free of bitterness: it was a necessary phase for the betterment of French life, bastard cocksuckers ruin my whole life will you. The Centre national d'études spatiales interspace birthing project, sponsored by the France government, proposed to observe how the delivery of babies, and whatever else that came out in the delivery (can’t control just for children, you know; occasionally a kidney stone or an organ on shaky standing will splu-splutter out. And what a noise it makes, too!), would be affected by the vicissitudes and vacillations of a spaceborn rocket; the dearth of atmosphere upon human delivery, and how human delivery affected the spatial atmosphere. If, on arrival, we babies fractured into lots of smaller babies through progressive fragmentation, as asteroids and tragic love stories do. If our heads exploded. Would have been so gross. Happy mine didn’t. Less conceivably, but nonetheless on the observation sheet, if our vocal cords were at all prematured by the level of prominence we had already achieved, literally just born and already spacemen, and if, thusly, we softly cried anything of ad rem interest, like, “Goo, goo, interga-ga-lactic.” I think I gurgled something close, but, as my friend the wonderful Dr. Rinaldi would say, “Close but no cigar.” What do I care, anyway?

In the end, zero-gravity delivery didn’t appear to have much effect on any of us babies, or our mothers — with the small exception that I personally still think that screaming at the top of my lungs will propel me backwards really fast — but did, productively, reveal that the medical field itself is not ready to do interspace deliveries. Babies can do it anywhere. Scoops and scalpels, on the other hand, had to be attached to the obstetrician’s wrists in infantilizing soft safety bracelets. There were a lot of problems like that. For one, the space program’s safety crew — who had, admittedly, done so badly at school that they couldn’t meet any intelligence standards on the planet and so resolved to make a fresh start extraterrestrially — almost didn’t allow the medical staff on the rocket, with all of their dangerously pointy apparati. I hear my mother was searched, too, they thinking her huge baby bump was some new kind of collapsible bazooka. This is a holdover from the fears of space terrorism which, I have to be honest, doesn’t bother me that much. So long as it doesn’t happen on Earth, that’s my motto.

We touched back twenty-nine years plus several minutes ago, and to this moment, I do not feel properly naturalized to this planet. Maybe the next moment? … Nope. Jerk moment. Everyone asks this question, so I like to state outright: yes, I’ve told the researchers at CNES, they’ve taken all this down in their notepads and shared it off the record with their spouses and family friends at sumptuous weekend dinner parties and sparkling evenings of champagne and strawberries, which rich doctor people each from a trough. I’ve told them how I feel to the final troublesome detail: as though my body, its tropospheric tautness, is a sharp tongue constantly attempting to pronounce the slothier sounds of English while I’m really native to the flexing, visible-vein rapidity of Francais. That I can’t get the positioning right, no matter what I try or how often I practice, or what diet I go on. That, still, each time I have occasion to jump in the air, into a fireman’s arms, or to evade a long rope that is repeatedly swooped back around by some pair of children — typically a pair of creepy twin girls wreaking of evil — a dominating part of my intergalactic hindbrain assumes I will stay there, mid-air, unfettered by what you might call gravity but which I know better as Earth’s invisible iron maiden straps and buckles, bad bad buckles. When I crash to the ground, I crumble emotionally, and to worsen matters the little twins’ rope — if we’re in Scenario #2, here — continues to slap me in the face, leaving these twisty imprints you notice now. I’m forced to lie to strangers who stare, explaining (a lie) that the skeletal composition of my facial bones is afflicted by a hereditary disease, creating this plaited pattern. The truth humiliates, but in a lie, I am safe.

My existence on Earth has been pure tragedy, and here’s the clincher: I was recently sentenced to fifteen years of hard labor. For a crime I didn’t do! Swear!!!!!!!! I have a therapist here, at the prison, who forces me to acknowledge that it’s not all terrible in this kind of soft, antipsychotic voice. To count my blessings. I do get to have a kind of impotent-type proto-sex with the possums who blend in with the rocks my pickaxe penetrates. That’s nice, I guess. I have all my friends in the world around me constantly. Nemeses, too, but optimism is braver than despondency, so don’t mention it again. The manual work means my wrists pain me constantly, but this tight pair of cuffs do well to keep the bones set correctly, so from the outside, they look pretty alright. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Sucks here…………...

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thecoroutfitters · 6 years

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Written by Guest Contributor on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another guest contribution from valknut79 to The Prepper Journal. As always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and be entered into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies, then enter today!

Composting is a natural, effective way of improving your soil quality – a must for any preppers who plan on doing any kind of gardening. As it stands, it’s possible to hit your local hardware store for a few bags of compost that you can integrate into your soil to help improve it, but post-collapse, this “black gold” of gardening is going to be in demand if you plan on creating bountiful crops. In addition, compost is also a highly effective method of ridding yourself of garbage without relying on the local garbageman.

Setting up a composting system is super simple, and is an easy project you could completely set up within two hour’s time. Following through with your system is an ongoing process, but only slightly more complicated than separating your garbage between regular and recycling piles.

What is Compost?

Compost is, essentially, decomposing plant material. When you toss out your leftover lettuce stumps, carrot heads, or onion skins, you’re wasting valuable compost material – simply burying or speed-composting this leftover vegetable mess could take all of the beneficial nutrients that are stored in the food and gift them back into the soil, to be pulled out in next year’s radish or broccoli crop.

The plants that you grow must take their nutrition from the soil around them. If your soil has been drained of nutrient resources, your crops may struggle to take root and get off the ground. Compost is part of the magic that keeps our natural life cycle running by taking the leftovers you wouldn’t use anyways and putting their nutrients back into the system.

Compost looks and acts just like a regular soil – it’s simply a little denser than normal soil, and a lot healthier than a chemical supplement like Miracle Gro.

How to Create Compost

At our house we have a variety of composting areas, because over the course of the year, we create a lot of vegetable garbage. When cooking, we dispose of our leftover pieces – the greens of cauliflower, the tough ends of asparagus, and the rinds of watermelons – and we put them in a bowl to be placed in a composter at some point later in the evening or the next day. Once the garbage is disposed of, you just need to wait for nature to take it’s course.

Some gardeners simply pile their compost in an area that’s outside of view, but I think that this is not the ideal method. Depending on how fastidious you are about what you put in the pile and how well you hide or cover the material, it may attract bugs or animal visitors that you don’t want anywhere near your home. Even tied-up or bound compost piles create some danger of this, and it’s slow. Because it’s open to the air, you may have to wait a year or more to access your compost.

The simplest method that I can recommend is using a compost bin. Ours is a round black trash can with hinge and a locking mechanism on the lid. I drilled holes in the top and bottom of the can to promote air flow, and as it starts to fill, I tip the can over and roll it around on the lawn to aerate the contents. If the bin is filled with the right mixture of fast-decomposing plant material (see later in this article) we can have compost ready in as little as two to three weeks, although in most cases it takes a month or more. Nothing has yet broken into my mobile bins, and I use two or three at a time to create a balance of rotting and readiness times.

Another very simple method to create compost is to use the trench method. This is pretty much exactly what sounds like – a shallow and narrow trench running through your garden where you place your composting material, then burying it as you fill it. If you do a lot of non-vegetable plant waste (i.e. grass clippings, wood, etc), then this is a great way to improve your soil quality. Some vegetables will sprout if you bury them, so you may end up with a few eggplant or pepper plants popping up if you compost these remains.

If you have particularly large things to compost – fallen trees, logs, etc. – then a hill compost may be best. Line up the material you wish to rid yourself of, wet it thoroughly, and pile dirt or sand on top. In as soon as four to five years, you should have the material completely broken down, and have a rich pile of soil just waiting to be transplanted into your growing areas.

Materials

Compost can be created using almost anything “natural” as well as many everyday products, like boxes from Amazon, coffee cups from many local establishments, cigars or bread and pasta products. The best mix, in my opinion, is a widely varied group of materials, but certainly, there are composting superstars. I like to call them “breakfast compost” – coffee grounds, egg shells and banana peels are three highly nutritional ingredients that can help to improve your plant’s conditions.

Generally speaking, the thicker and larger pieces you put in your composter, like straw, sticks, boards, root vegetables or cardboard boxes, will be slow decomposers. They have some nutritional benefit, but if not chopped or broken down before being added, it could be a while before they rot to the point that they make nice smooth consistency compost. Things which break down particularly quickly are grass clippings, ash, tea bags, bread, weeds, and dead plant material. Fallen leaves from your trees fall somewhere in the middle – occasionally they break down quickly, and at other times they take their time.

Do not add meats, dairy products, or animal feces to your compost mix. They’ll break down, certainly, but they smell, and can attract many animals. I’ve also seen people recommend staying away from composting citrus fruits and onions, stating that while they decompose, they can potentially harm some of the beneficial bacteria that you’re harvesting in your compost, and slow down the rotting process. I have not had detrimental effects, but as I do not use these products to great excess, I can’t say that I’ve added too many of either to my composter. A few never hurts.

With weeds and fruit parts, it is particularly important that you put them into a sealed composter bin. Both contain seeds, or at least, the impetus to spread. Planting either into a trench or pit composter may simply mean that you’ve moved them from one area to your garden into an area where they can propagate more quickly and prolifically. The high heat created by the rotting materials within a sealed composter will kill off any ability for these plants to grow, and will instead break the materials down.

Using Compost

Compost is a must-have. We use it as the basis for most of the soil mixture in our gardens, mixing it into the topsoil or commercial mixture because of it’s high nutrient content. We also use it as a soil amendment if we have a group of flowers or veggies that are not growing to their potential. Simply mound up a handful of compost around the plants which need a boost, and usually after a few watering’, they’ll perk up as the nutrients seep from the compost into the soil and root systems below.

Another method for using compost, or even just the ingredients for compost, is to put a handful of finished compost into a pot, and fill with water. Let it sit overnight, and then use that liquid to water your plants. I’ve had half-dead plants come back to life completely with one watering. Banana peels, particularly hard-packed into a jar, covered with water, and left in the sun, make a super effective plant tonic

A composting system set up takes two hours or less for the vast majority of people, and is an effective way to not only help out your garden, but deal with garbage and reduce the waste you create. What are you waiting for? Go get those trash cans!

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nateinguinea · 4 years

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PST: Paddies, Sweat, and Tea (or Pre-Service Training)

Happy New Year! Happy Holidays!! I’ve now been in Guinea for four weeks! These past weeks have both flown by and felt like many months. Six days a week I have language, technical, and administrative sessions from 8:00am to 5:00pm. I’ll spend this blog sketching three scenes of a “typical” day of my PST (Pre-Service Training).

SCENE ONE: Bread Rising

I wake up around 7am and crawl out from under my mosquito net. After going to the bathroom and getting dressed, I grab my backpack and leave my room. My bedroom is a part of a separate building behind my host family’s house (I’ll introduce my host family in a future post). I head into my family’s kitchen and make myself a cup of instant Nescafe coffee, then I grab a petit baguette, cut it, and spread butter on it. I quickly down my Nescafe and head out with my buttered baguette in hand. Making my way down my hill, to the center of the town where my 8am language is held. From 8am, I have 3.5 hours of my regional language, Maninka, taught in a class of three by my language facilitator, Karifalla. Maninka is spoken by the Malinke people primarily in Upper and Forest Guinee and is mutually intelligible with Mandingo (in Gambia and Senegal), Bambara (Mali), and Jula (Cote d’Ivoire). Learning Maninka (or any regional language) is the most important aspect of PST. I’ve been learning it for about two weeks now. It’s so nice to be learning a language in such an intimate setting and I cannot wait to visit my site and begin further developing my Maninka.

SCENE TWO: Garden Growth

In the afternoon, I begin my Agroforestry (AgFo) technical sessions which cover topics such as Guinean all-natural pesticides, natural fertilizers, transplanting, seed processing, double-digging, nutrition, and natural-material fence building. After a brief lecture, we do a hands-on activity. In the “swamp,” or rice paddies, the entire AgFo cohort has a “community garden” where we first learned and practiced various techniques such as natural-material fences, double digging, and transplanting. We also have group nutritional gardens throughout the village. Both gardens’ fences are made of palm oil tree leaves with the steams being the posts, full leaves being the screen, and leaves being the fence ties. Double digging involves creating a raised garden bed by digging twice and adding “food” or fertilizer (including dried leaves, banana tree trunk pieces, and charcoal - other plants and materials can work too!) at the bottom-most layer to help aerate and add nutrients to the soil. Transplanting involves moving seedlings into a raised bed.

My group nutritional garden is a smaller version of the Community Garden where my group and I develop strong farmer tans, beautiful blisters, and a plethora of sweat constructing our fence and double digging our raised beds. After we finished our three raised beds, we planted seeds and seedlings into them. Before we head back to our host family’s house, we thoroughly water our raised beds, compost, and Moringa tree seedlings. In these practice gardens, all the techniques are already practices by some local farmers throughout the country. Once at site we’re expected to build our own household nutritional gardens for demonstration and dietary purposes. Below is a picture of my group’s nutritional garden.

My group’s nutritional garden that we’ve named, “The Jeffrey” with a fishnet and palm leaf fence.

SCENE THREE: Evening Tea

As the sun sets, after my dinner (delicious rice and sauce) and bucket bath (a pour time), my older brother, Sefaiou, and I go out in front of the house for an evening tea. Water and tea leaves boiled and steeped over a charcoal fire resulting in a foamy tea served in a shot glass-like cup known as "Ataya." Below is a recipe guide for this scrumptious tea. Hopefully, you have a slightly clearer portrait of what a “typical” day here is like. In the next post, I will continue to muse about my PST experience and living in Guinea.

Type of Drink: "Ataya"

Required Items:

Charcoals and stove

Clay tea kettle

Gunpowder Green Tea Leaves with Mint Leaves

glass shot cup

two cups for pouring

sugar /or/ sweetened condensed milk

optional: edible nuts

Steps:

1. Make a charcoal fire

2. Fun the tea kettle with water

3. Bring the kettle to a boil

4. Add tea leaves

5. let the tea steep

6. pour the steeped tea into a cup

7. Pour back and forth between two cups until foamy

8. Pour the foamy tea into a glass shot cup

9. Add sugar or condensed milk

10. serve

11. eat the nuts while drinking (optional)

#peacecorps #guinea

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fitnesstale · 5 years

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Paleo Diet: Beginner’s Guide & Meal Plan

Want to lose weight?

Go Paleo! Paleo diet also called the Caveman diet or Stone Age diet is a very popular diet plan that has an almost 100% success rate. The concept of the Paleo diet was first introduced in 1975, but it was after Loren Cordain published The Paleo Diet (2002) that this diet became popular.

Paleo Diet is based on the principle that eating non-packaged and fresh produce, as humans did in the paleolithic age, can help ward off all 21st-century health issues such as obesity, diabetes, insulin resistance, heart problems, etc. Moreover, unlike other diets, the Paleo diet emphasizes the importance of following a healthy lifestyle in order to lose weight.

Losing weight with the Paleo diet can be really simple if you understand it properly.

What Is The Paleo Diet All About?

Paleo diet’s concept is simple — eat natural and healthy produce and eliminate processed and unhealthy foods. This diet will take you to days when there were no GM foods, no hormone-fed meat, and no junk food. You will eat grass-fed meat, fresh vegetables, local fruits, and healthy fats. The Paleo diet is designed in such a way that it will become a habit to eat only natural foods and you will automatically let go of all your unhealthy eating habits. Of course, it’s easier said than done because we are so dependent on frozen, processed, and junk food. But, don’t worry, I am here to help you.

Paleo Diet Stages For Weight Loss

The Paleo diet can be divided into three phases. Each phase is a unique one owing to the fact that you have to change your diet gradually. A sudden change in your diet can make your junk food and sugar cravings stronger. When you slowly introduce healthy eating habits, the chances of these habits developing into a full-fledged lifestyle change is more. So, let’s begin with the first phase of the Paleo diet.

Paleo Diet Phase 1

Duration — 2–8 weeks

What Will You Achieve

Gradually exclude processed and junk foods.

Lose water weight.

Start burning fat.

Feel active and good about the foods that you eat.

Paleo Diet Chart For Phase 1

Early Morning (7:00–7:45 a.m): 2 cups of water

Breakfast (8:00–8:15 a.m): Bacon, avocado, and kale breakfast sandwich + 1 cup freshly pressed orange juice

Mid-Morning (10:30 a.m): 4 almonds + 1 cup green tea

Lunch (12:30 p.m): Broccoli and mushroom salad with a light dressing

Evening Snack (4:30 p.m): 1 small bowl carrots

Dinner (6:45–7:00 p.m): 1 cup chicken or mushroom soup

Why This Works

Gulping down 2 cups of water in the morning as soon as you get up is highly recommended because it will help you wake up quickly. It will also flush out the toxins from your body. Have a bread-free sandwich for breakfast with a good source of protein and healthy fat. Orange juice is loaded with vitamin C and dietary fiber that will help boost your immunity and improve bowel movement. For the rest of the day too, you will eat foods that are fresh and healthy. Do not consume chickpea hummus with baby carrots as hummus is not Paleo-friendly.

Paleo Lifestyle — Phase 1

Stop consuming sugar. You can do this right from week 1 as it will help you consume fewer calories. Do not buy or eat processed food.

Avoid buying grain-fed or hormone-fed meat. Also, avoid pre-cut veggies or fruits.

Workout! Yes, you should stay active. Do what you enjoy the most — it may be playing a sport, or walking, running, dancing, etc.

Sleep early so that you can avoid late night snacking.

Get up in the morning and do 4–5 reps of Suryanamaskar.

Add lavender or citrus essential oil in your bathing water to feel fresh and active.

Drink 3–4 liters of water every day.

Clean the clutter in your wardrobe or room.

Do not consume packaged juices, aerated drinks, energy drinks, etc.

Take out 20–60 minutes every day just for yourself and do what you like to do.

How You Will Feel By The End Of Phase 1

By the end of phase 1 or 8th week, you would look slimmer as you will lose a lot of water weight. Moreover, your metabolism will also get a boost, and you will start to burn fat. If you work out regularly, your body fat percentage will come down and you will see the visible proof in the “before-after” pictures. Your success will keep you going, and you will be more excited to step into phase 2 of the Paleo diet.

Paleo Diet Phase 2

Duration — 4 weeks

What Will You Achieve

Detox your body.

Increase fat mobilization.

Lower LDL cholesterol.

Lower blood sugar levels and increase insulin sensitivity.

Totally get rid of carb addiction.

Paleo Diet Chart For Phase 2

Early Morning (7:00–7:45 a.m): 2 cups of water

Breakfast (8:00–8:15 a.m): Options: Paleo pancakes + 1 cup freshly pressed apple juice+2 almonds or Raspberry chia spinach smoothie + 1 boiled egg

Mid-Morning (10:30 a.m): 1 cup green tea

Lunch (12:30 p.m): Options: Turkey lettuce wrap + 1 cup fresh coconut water or Mexican Paleo bowl

Evening Snack (4:30 p.m): 1 small bowl of cucumber

Dinner (6:45–7:00 p.m)Options: Roasted chicken with veggies or Burger patty salad or Sweet potato soup

Why This Works

Drinking 2 cups of water right after you wake up will help flush out toxins. Paleo pancakes are easy and delicious to make. Chia seeds are a great source of protein and healthy fats. Raspberry and spinach are great sources of vitamin C, fruit sugar, minerals, and vitamins. Green tea is a great source of antioxidants and will also help reduce hunger. For lunch and dinner, you will eat Paleo-friendly foods rich in protein, healthy fats, good carbs, vitamins, and minerals.

Paleo Lifestyle — Phase 2

Wake up in the morning and have 2 cups of water.

Warm up and do 4 sets of Surya Namaskar.

Prepare Paleo-friendly breakfast and eat it before heading out.

Have a mid-morning snack if you feel hungry.

If you have a desk job, make it a point to walk about after every 1 hour.

Take the stairs and walk to and from your office or school.

Workout for an hour in the evening or morning.

Eat Paleo-friendly lunch and dinner.

If you are celebrating, you can have a glass of red wine as even the ancestors in the Paleolithic age would drink fermented beverages.

Stick to Paleo-friendly foods in a party.

Sleep after 3 hours of having your dinner and get at least 7 hours of sleep.

Meditate to ward off negative thoughts and to increase concentration.

Build your social support by being friends with Paleo dieters.

Check your weight, body fat percentage, and click pictures to keep a track of your progress.

How You Will Feel By The End Of Phase 2

By the end of this phase, you will stop craving for unnatural and processed foods. You will also start feeling less bloated, your digestion problems will diminish, your skin will start to glow, and your body fat percentage will go further down. If you workout regularly and do strength training, you will build lean muscle. Therefore, even if you shed fat, your weight will increase. So, check your body fat percent to find out whether you are shedding the fat and building lean muscle. Your energy levels and productivity will increase if you adhere to the plan. But there’s always room for improvement.

Paleo Diet Phase 3

Duration — As long as you want

What Will You Achieve

You will know what you should put in your body and what you should totally avoid.

You will have a good relationship with food.

Your body will start to look chiseled.

Most of your health problems will diminish.

You will achieve your target weight.

You will start to inspire your friends and family.

Paleo Diet Chart For Phase 3

Early Morning (7:00–7:45 a.m): 2 cups of water

Breakfast (8:00–8:15 a.m): Options: Egg frittata + 1 cup fruit juice or Avocado, fruits, and soft boiled egg bowl

Mid-Morning (10:30 a.m): 1 medium cup watermelon

Lunch (12:30 p.m): Options: Seared scallops with grilled veggies or Pan-fried salmon with asparagus, carrot, and sweet potato

Evening Snack (4:30 p.m): 1 cup green tea + 15 in-shell pistachios

Dinner (6:45–7:00 p.m): Options: Broccoli soup with mushroom or Pork stuffed a bell pepper

Why This Works

Even in the 3rd phase, you should drink 2 cups of water to jumpstart your body in the morning. Prepare the egg frittata with veggies so that you feel satiated. Include protein sources such as salmon, pork, mushrooms, scallops, etc., healthy fat sources such as pistachios and avocado, and good carbs that you will get from veggies and fruits. All these foods will help you achieve optimum health and will make you feel good about making the right food choices.

Paleo Lifestyle — Phase 3

Don’t be too strict with your diet in this phase. Yes, you will eat Paleo-friendly foods and follow a good lifestyle, but you also need to give your body a break from eating the same things over and over again. Because when your body gets no surprises, it becomes immune to any treatment you provide. Have a cheat day once every week. Eat your favorite food to your heart’s content — maybe ice cream, chocolate, carrot cake, pumpkin doughnut or other Paleo-friendly desserts. But make sure not to overeat them. If you do, do not feel that you have disrupted the whole diet. The only way you can move forward is to workout and expend the calories.

Keep a check on your alcohol consumption.

If you do eat food that is not Paleo-friendly on a rare occasion, nothing to worry about. Just don’t get lured away and slip back into your old habits.

Talk about the Paleo diet with friends and family as your social support will take you a long way. Moreover, there’s nothing like helping a friend or a family member to lose weight or lead a healthy life.

How You Will Feel As A Paleo Dieter

Providing your body with the best of nature will not only make you slim but will also improve your brain functions. You will be less stressed out and will be more productive. You will love the new life that will give you peace, health, and harmony.

Paleo Diet Food To Eat List

Vegetables — Broccoli, cauliflower, cucumber, tomato, turnip, parsnips, scallions, onion, carrot, cabbage, sweet potato, okra, eggplant, zucchini, pumpkin, bottle gourd, ridge gourd, snake gourd, squash, etc.

Fruits — Berries, watermelon, muskmelon, honeydew melon, grapes, peach, avocado, plum, orange, lime, lemon, grapefruit, apricot, etc.

Protein — Chicken, fish, grass-fed meat, eggs, mushroom, tofu, mussels, and shrimps.

Fats & Oils — Olive oil, sunflower butter, flaxseed butter, and coconut oil.

Nuts & Seeds — Flax seeds, chia seeds, almonds, macadamia, pistachios, walnuts, pine nuts, etc.

Herbs & Spices — Cumin, coriander, cardamom, cinnamon, turmeric, chili powder, paprika powder, oregano, dill, thyme, rosemary, basil, star anise, allspice, mace, nutmeg, saffron, clove, cilantro, etc.

Beverages — Coconut water, freshly pressed fruit, and vegetable juice, and vegetables and fruit smoothies.

Paleo Diet Foods To Avoid List

Vegetable — Potato

Grains — Eliminate all kinds of grains, as in the Paleolithic age there was no provision for cooking grains.

Protein — Avoid all legumes and grain-fed meat.

Dairy — Avoid all dairy and milk products.

Fats & Oils — Butter, margarine, ghee, and animal fat.

Beverages — Packaged fruit and vegetable juices, soda, diet soda, alcohol in unlimited amounts, buttermilk, and energy drinks.

Bottomline

So basically, you can eat anything in the Paleo diet except grass-fed or hormone-fed meat, legumes, potatoes, dairy products, and junk food. Now the next big issue is preparing Paleo-friendly food. Well, fortunately preparing Paleo food is really easy.

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writingforweirdlings · 7 years

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Lookie Here

Summary: Reader is Alfie’s sister and she’s just every bit as fun as he is.

Characters: Reader, Alfie Solomons, Ollie, Thomas Shelby, ‘bakers’

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 491

AN: This is my first Peaky Blinders Imagine please be nice about it.

Apparently my brother had a meeting with the Shelby and didn’t think to invite me, bloody bastard. Today he was sending his men in and I was going to be there.

I walked towards his office and there were men lined up waiting to be called in.

“Next lad!” I heard him call out.

“They seem capable enough,” I say as I walk in.

“Y/N,” Ollie nods his head towards me, I nod back.

“Name?”

“Abbey Heath.”

“Abbey Heath. Profession?”

“Baker.”

“Good lad. Fill it out, fuck off.” Ollie throws him an apron. “Next lad!”

“Name?”

“Buddy Halls.”

“Buddy Halls. Right, profession?”

“Baker.”

“Good lad. Fill it out, fuck off.” He looks at Alfie like he’s a madman. He gets his apron and in comes the next man.

“Name?”

“Billy Kitchen.”

“Billy Kitchen. Occupation?”

“Head baker,” Billy says with confidence.

“Head baker?” I scoff. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“What would a woman like you know about anything?” He looks at me, grabbing the paper Alfie laid out.

I see Alfie lean back into his chair and Ollie gets a bit closer to the wall. “What would a woman like me know?” I get closer to him. “I know more than you ever will and next time you speak to me do it respectfully or there won’t be a next time. Am I understood head baker?”

“Yes ma’am,” he says.

“Good, now fuck off,” I go back to standing beside Alfie. The rest of the day goes like this, calling them in and giving them their paper.

I go into the kitchens to grab something to snack on while Alfie finishes up. About ten minutes later Ollie comes looking for me, “Shelby’s here, Alfie asked me to come and get you.”

I set down the cup I was drinking from, “alright then let’s get this over with,” I follow Ollie into the bakery and when I get there I stand next to Alfie.

The Shelby takes a look at me as I pass him but otherwise says nothing.

“Alright boys, now you’ve all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town. If anyone asks, that’s what you do. You’re bakers. The coppers in Camden town are on our side, but north or south you show them that piece of paper. We’re finding lodgings for you but for now you’ll sleep in the bakery. Don’t touch any of the bread it’ll most likely explode. Any questions?” He stand’s back in the middle facing them.

The man from earlier, Buddy I think, raises his hand.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t seen any bread,” he says causing the others to laugh.

Shelby looks back at us and clears his throat, I walk over to the man before Alfie does. Shelby looks at me with curiosity.

“You haven’t seen any bread then eh?” I stand in front of the man, my left hand on my hip. I look to Alfie, “he says he hasn’t seen any bread brother,” I turn back and punch the man right in his face, breaking his nose.

“Now I want all of you to listen up,” I say stepping back a little. “Now as all places do, we have rules here and those rules are to be followed to the letter,” I walk around a bit. “First rule, the difference between bread and rum is not acknowledged!” I yell looking at Buddy. “Now the second, anything that any of your higher ups say to you isn’t questioned or talked about! And any other rules for that matter include complete and utter silence! Meaning that you don’t talk about the things you do or the things you’re told.” I look back at Alfie and he comes up.

He looks around, “Jewish women. You do not go anywhere near them because they are off the menu. I think that’s fair.” He looks at head baker, who stares right back.

“Just because someone looks at you doesn’t mean you have to look right back at them,” I look to him. “Especially if it’s my brother your looking at. It’s an act of defiance in my books,” I walk over to them. “Are you showing defiance head baker?”

“No ma’am,” he says looking straight ahead again.

“Good,” I step away and let Alfie finish.

He looks at the Shelby, “Alright, that’s it then. Forgive me. I interrupted you.” He walks back to his previous spot.

Shelby walks over to his head baker and tells him something.

“Don’t fucking wait! You better be fucking soldiers! You’re a fucking disgrace! Go!” They all leave the room.

“Quite the crowd, eh brother?” I laugh and walk over to him.

“Your Ms. Solomons I take it,” the gypsy says looking at me.

“Y/N, so you’re the Shelby who made a deal with the devil,” I look him up and down.

“Thomas,” he says.

“Mmm. Alright well I’ve got things to take care of, I’m sure you’re capable of letting yourself out,” I walk out of the room and into Alfie’s office.

“Tell me you haven’t taken a liking to the gypsy,” Alfie says as he walks in.

“I haven’t taken a liking to the gypsy,” I respond, looking at the books.

“I’ll believe it when you mean it. You should go home, I can take care of business here,” He lays my coat on the desk.

“I’ll go home as soon as you do,” I look up at him.

“Let’s go home then,” he shrugs on his coat. I take mine off the desk and put it on.

“He’s not my type so don’t worry about it,” I say as we leave the bakery. He hums in acknowledgement.

Tag List: @uncomfortable-writers @archer-whovian-violinist @brok3nsurvivor @a-court-of-stydia

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #alfie solomons #sister!reader #solomons!reader #alfie's little sister #also a big boss #much like alfie #bit calmer #thomas shelby #ollie #bakers #bakery #i love alfie solomons #alfie being a badass #drabble

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edgewaterfarmcsa · 5 years

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FALL CSA WEEK 2

Pick List:

corn - cauliflower - sweet potatoes - parsley - arugula -

leeks - radishes - pumpkin - plum tomatoes - eggplant

KITCHEN LIST:

Pumpkin bread & Raspberry Apple Sauce

BONUS LIST: Lisianthus

Truthfully- I have been out of the fields for the past week now. Carrot pulling, beet washing, cherry tomato packaging is still going strong, but I have been at the desk, working on creating new bags in which to house our potatoes for COOP sales. As a farm, and cohabiters on this planet- we think about the health of the environment and we think about our carbon foot-print, and all the things that surround that. In choosing new bags for our potatoes, we are choosing to move away from a wholly plastic product. We found a source that uses potato starts to create a film that mixes with plastic so this bag won’t live forever and ever and will eventually break down- sounds great, right? Kind of. I can’t help but think that while we move away from heavy plastic, and towards a “greener” system, we are supporting monoculture which is pretty devastating for soil health. However, I’m hoping these bags will travel from our farm to the co-op, to potentially reused as your lunch bag and eventually to the trash or recycling where they will go and break down thus keeping them out of our oceans and away from our whales. Because as an inland farmer growing food in Cornish/Plainfield, NH I’m mostly thinking about the whales.

In other news, thank-goodness for this greenhouse that continues to produce these flower-blooms to remind us all that the harvest does not end in October.

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES

ROMESCO ROASTED WHOLE CAULIFLOWER W/ HERBED TAHINI CREAM

Serves: 4-6

Notes: You can make the romesco and tahini cream up to 5 days in advance. Keep them in the fridge!

-I dropped a few lemon slices and smashed garlic cloves into the steaming water for my cauliflower for a little extra flavour infusion. This is an optional additional step.

-You can broil the cauliflower on high at the end for a couple minutes for some extra browning if you like! Just keep an eye on it while it’s under.

SUNFLOWER ROMESCO: ½ cup toasted sunflower seeds

2 roasted red peppers

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 teaspoon smoked paprika

¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 tablespoons sherry OR apple cider vinegar

1 tablespoon tomato paste

small handful flat parsley leaves

sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste

scant ½ cup virgin olive oil

HERBED TAHINI CREAM: ¼ cup fresh lemon juice

2 garlic cloves, peeled

1 teaspoon maple syrup

½ teaspoon sea salt, plus more to taste

½ cup parsley leaves, loosely packed

2 green onions, chopped

1 sprig rosemary, leaves removed

½ cup tahini (I like Soom brand)

⅓ cup ice water, plus extra

CAULIFLOWER:

1 medium-large head of cauliflower (2 lbs), leaves removed

1 tablespoon olive oil

sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste

Make the sunflower romesco: In the bowl of a food processor, combine the sunflower seeds, roasted red peppers, garlic, paprika, aleppo pepper, vinegar, tomato paste, parsley, salt, and pepper. Pulse the mixture until all ingredients are finely chopped and lightly pasty. Scrape the bowl down. With the motor on low, drizzle the olive oil through the feed tube until sauce is creamy. Check for seasoning and set aside.

Rinse the food processor. Make the herbed tahini cream. In the food processor combine the lemon juice, garlic, maple syrup, salt, parsley, green onions, and rosemary. Pulse the mixture until herbs are finely chopped. Add the tahini and pulse to combine. It will get pasty. With the motor running, drizzle in the ice water until you have a smooth, fluid, slightly aerated sauce. Check for seasoning and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Make the whole roasted cauliflower: using a paring knife, cut into the core of the cauliflower on an angle to expose the “branches” and crevices of the cauliflower. Flip the cauliflower right side up and place in a steamer basket. In a large pot, bring a couple inches of water to a boil. Once boiling, carefully drop the steamer basket in and close a lid on tight. Steam the cauliflower for 10 minutes. The exterior should yield to a poke from a paring knife.

Carefully extract the cauliflower from the pot and dry off the surface thoroughly. Flip the cauliflower over and spoon some of the romesco into the crevices. Shake and tap the cauliflower to work it in.

Line an oven-proof skillet or baking sheet with parchment paper and place the cauliflower inside, right side up. Brush the exterior with olive oil and season with salt & pepper. Transfer to the oven and set a timer for 10 minutes.

After 10 minutes, take the cauliflower out and brush it liberally with romesco. Place the cauliflower back in the oven for another 35-40 minutes, or until browned, dry on the exterior & yielding when poked with a knife.

Serve whole roasted cauliflower hot on a platter with more romesco, herbed tahini cream, and garnishes of choice.

STICKY & CRISPY SESAME CAULIFLOWER RECIPE SERVES: 4

NOTES: If you don’t want to use cassava flour, you can substitute brown rice, chickpea or regular wheat flour. Lower the amount of water to 1 cup if you’re making this substitution (and add more if necessary)!

CAULIFLOWER INGREDIENTs

1 head of cauliflower (about 2 ½ lbs)

1 cup cassava flour

1 ½ cups water, plus extra

½ teaspoon garlic powder

1 tablespoon sesame seeds

sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste

STICKY SESAME SAUCE INGREDIENTs

¼ cup tamari soy sauce

2 tablespoons maple syrup

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

1 tablespoon rice vinegar

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon chili paste (optional)

2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely grated/minced

2-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely grated/minced

1 tablespoon sesame seeds

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

Cut the cauliflower into small florets. In a large bowl, combine the cassava flour, water, garlic powder, sesame seeds, salt, and pepper. Whisk to combine. The resulting batter should be fluid but thick–thick enough to coat a piece of cauliflower and pool only slightly once set on the baking sheet. If the batter is too thick/pasty, add water by the tablespoon until you reach the proper consistency.

Drop the cauliflower florets into the batter and stir until all pieces are coated. Using a fork, carefully transfer battered cauliflower to the baking sheets, leaving 1 inch of space around each floret.

Bake the battered cauliflower for 20 minutes. While the cauliflower is baking, make the sauce. In a small saucepan combine the tamari, maple syrup, sesame oil, rice vinegar, tomato paste, chili paste, garlic, ginger, and sesame seeds. Bring the sauce to a boil on the stove over medium heat. Simmer for 5 minutes or until slightly reduced. Set aside.

After cauliflower has baked for 20 minutes, remove and let cool slightly. Once it’s cool enough to handle, transfer the par-baked cauliflower to a large bowl. Cover the cauliflower with all but 3 tablespoons of the sesame sauce. Toss to thoroughly coat the cauliflower.

Bake the cauliflower for another 20 minutes, or until the edges are starting to darken. Remove the crispy sesame cauliflower and let it sit for a full 5 minutes before serving in lettuce wraps, on rice etc., drizzled with remaining sauce and topped with extra sesame seeds, and chopped green onions.

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reidrsoj636-blog · 5 years

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Supper And Picking The Wine

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The Shocking Revelation of Pie Pudding | pie pudding

In the angel of aliment holidays, today is National Pie Day.

Pumpkin Pie Pudding Recipe | MyRecipes – pie pudding | pie pudding

What bigger alibi to broil a pie or at atomic partake in a allotment of your favorite, whether it be angel pie, peanut adulate pie or key adhesive pie.

National Pie Day was created by the American Pie Council with the aboriginal ceremony captivated in 1986 to admire Crisco’s 75th ceremony of “serving foods to families everywhere”.

In celebration, we pulled recipes from the PennLive archive.

The Hotel Hershey’s Amber Chrism Pie

Ingredients

Directions:

Heat 1 1/2 cups milk and amoroso in 1-quart saucepan. Amalgamate 1 cup milk with flour, cornstarch, alkali and egg yolks. Temper by abacus 1/3 of the hot sugar/milk admixture to the egg yolk mixture. Return admixture to the pot and accompany to a boil. Activity one minute, afresh abolish from heat. Add amber and activity in until melted. Finish with boilerplate and butter. Pour into pies carapace and refrigerate. To serve, adornment with aerated chrism and baldheaded amber or unwrapped Hershey’s Kisses.

Banana Pudding Pie – pie pudding | pie pudding

Here is the award-winning angel pie from the 2019 Pa. Farm Show from Marie Miller of Mechanicsburg.

Caramel-Pecan Angel Pie

Crust

Directions:

Blend flour, amoroso and alkali in aliment processor. Add adulate and shortening; alloy until admixture resembles advance meal. Transfer admixture to average bowl. Add 5 tablespoons ice baptize and mix with angle until chef begins to array together, abacus added baptize by teaspoonfuls if dry. Gather chef together. Divide chef in half; abrade anniversary bisected into a disk. Wrap anniversary deejay in artificial and air-condition for at atomic one hour. Roll one deejay into a 9-inch amphitheater and save the added for the top. Fit the chef into a 9-inch pie pan and trim the edges to 1-inch overhang. Fold the chef beneath and coil the edges. Place in the refrigerator for 20 minutes. Use bisected of the band for the basal band and the added bisected for decorating the top.

Filling:

Streusel Topping

Afters, Background, Bake, Baked, Bread – pie pudding | pie pudding

Directions:

In a ample bowl, bung apples with auto juice, 1/4 cup above cider and vanilla. Let this admixture absorb for an hour in a covered bowl. Drain balance aqueous from the mixture. Amalgamate the pecans, amber and white sugar, biscuit and pie enhancer; add to angel admixture and bung to coat. Pour 1/3 cup caramel topping over basal of pastry shell; top with angel mixture.

In a baby bowl, amalgamate the flour, pecans and amber sugar. Cut in adulate until admixture resembles base crumbs. Sprinkle over filling.

Bake at 375 degrees for 30 account uncovered. Cover edges with foil; broil 30-40 account or until bushing is aerated and topping is browned. Immediately dribble with caramel topping. Cool on wire rack. Top with pastry cut-outs, if desired. Yields 8 servings.

Crazy Blooming Pie

Ingredients:

Directions:

Slow Cooker Pumpkin Pie Pudding Recipe | Simple Nourished Living – pie pudding | pie pudding

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Amalgamate blooming pie filling, auto abstract and biscuit and set aside. In a ample bowl, amalgamate flour, baking crumb and salt. Add shortening, egg and water. Beat two minutes. Pour band into a deep-dish 9-inch pie basin and advance around.Pour blooming bushing admixture into centermost of band batter. Do not stir. Broil 45 minutes. Cool. The pie can be served with aerated chrism or boilerplate ice cream.A can of angel pie bushing can be commissioned for the blooming pie filling.

Peanut Adulate Atom Pie

Ingredients:

Crumbs

Filling

Directions:

To accomplish the crumbs, put peanut adulate into a basin and activate abacus confectioners’ amoroso about one-half cup at a time, bond it with a pastry blender. Add confectioners’ amoroso as bare until the admixture resembles baby peas. Pat two-thirds of the crumbs into the basal of the broiled and cooled pie crust. Set aside.

Pressure Cooker Keto Low Carb Pumpkin Pie Pudding – Two Sleevers – pie pudding | pie pudding

To accomplish the pudding, mix sugar, cornstarch and abrade calm in a ample saucepan. Activity in milk and accompany to boil, active constantly. Beat egg yolks in a baby heat-proof bowl. Add a allotment of the hot milk admixture to the egg yolks and activity well. (This footfall keeps the yolks from affable into accolade eggs back added to the hot pudding.)

Add the yolk admixture to the saucepan. Accompany to a abscess again. Abolish from calefaction and add boilerplate and butter. Cool 5 minutes, active twice. Pour into able crust. Top with actual peanut adulate crumbs. Chill until pudding is set. Air-condition extra pie.

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