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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 4 months

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@monthly-challenge 2024 | 6. Sharing Food

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,411

“What did you want to cook?” asked Nathan, the instant Patience set foot in the kitchen. He was enveloped in a comically large apron, impressive given his height.

Distracted, Patience said, “Did… did you make that apron? Did you literally just make an apron that was too large just for the fun of it?” He smiled charmingly. “Of course.”

It was floral, and not precisely what she would have expected him to choose, but the pink flowers suited his oven-flushed cheeks. “I didn’t even know you sewed, but I’m not particularly surprised when I think about it.”

“I don’t, much, but I wanted an apron the way I wanted it, so I made it. I even hand-sewed it; that’s not machine stitches you see there.”

Patience took it up and examined it critically. “Very neat,” she said in surprise. “I completely thought that was machine sewing.”

“Success.” He grinned at her, and Patience grinned back, taken by his expression. She was maybe a little bit obsessed with her boyfriend, all things considered. Then again, he was a pretty good sort of fellow, the reason they were going out. She wouldn’t have settled for anyone less than him, because the only way that could have ended was badly, and she had no wish to have a relationship that important end badly if she could help it.

She suspected she got into her head too often. Shaking away the thought, Patience replied to his earlier question with, “Do you have any suggestions?”

Her boyfriend blinked back at her, then realised what she was asking. “Oh! Um, not really. Unless you wanted to make migraine soup.”

Patience laughed. “Soup out of a migraine?” she quipped.

“You know what I mean,” Nathan grumbled.

“That doesn’t stop me from laughing at you.” She offered her most charming smile.

“I would not have it so,” said Nathan, and bowed in a courtly fashion to her. “Listen, if you didn’t say that kind of thing where it was clearly noticeable I’d be filing for divorce already!”

She quieted, and he grimaced. “I didn’t—look, Pat, I’m sorry. Bad choice of words.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try not to again.”

“Thanks.”

That little awkwardness past, Patience brightened and said, “So—do you have a cook book of some kind that we can look through?”

“That’s an excellent point. Mum does.” He fished out three large tomes and dumped them on the kitchen table, and he and Patience pored over them for several minutes, flipping through the books at varying speeds, before Patience said, “How about this?”

‘This’ was a recipe for the curiously named Linzer cookies, which Patience had never seen before, and which Nathan quickly said he had never made. “They do look interesting, though.”

“A bit like yo-yos,” she said, examining the recipe. “Except more exciting because look at that centre. It’s so pretty!”

“Food is to eat but also to look pretty,” he agreed. “Do we have all the ingredients? Flour, yes—almond flour, also yes—salt, yes—butter, let me check—powdered sugar, yes—brown sugar, yes—eggs, yes—vanilla extract, yes—almond extract, let me check—fruit jam, yes. Butter and almond extract, then—” Nathan went in search of the pantry, and returned victorious. “We have both butter and almond extract, apparently. You’re in luck, Patience, because we usually don’t have almond flour but there was some marked down a lot at the shops the other day, so Mum grabbed it while it was there.”

“Wonderful. It wasn’t for anything particular, was it?”

“No, just while it was so cheap as to be cheaper than normal flour. Convenient, isn’t it?”

“Exceedingly.” She waited, awkwardly, while Nathan fetched everything out of the pantry and fridge, then said, “Um—do you have a spare apron?”

“Oh! Yes, there’s Mum’s.”

Patience picked up the dark blue apron, put it on and glanced quizzically at his brilliant pink one. “Pink for girls and blue for boys, whomst?” she said.

“Nothin’ doing, this is mine,” he said, adopting a threatening attitude.

“I wasn’t about to take it away from you,” she replied placidly.

“Just as well. I shouldn’t have let you. Besides, it’d look ridiculous on you.”

“It looks ridiculous on you,” she said fondly. “Not that that’s a failing.”

“Good: I wear my ridiculousness with pride.”

Patience stepped closer and kissed him quickly. “That’s what I love about you.”

“I know.” He kissed her back, and their plans were slightly delayed.

Once Patience extricated herself from the deep embrace they ended up in, she tied back her hair and said, “Well, we should probably get onto cooking those biscuits—”

“They’re cookies, dear, read the recipe.”

She rolled her eyes cheerfully at his nitpicking and said, “Whatever they are. We should cook them.”

“Are we allowed to mix the ingredients together first?” he asked plaintively. This time Patience laughed.

“First we need a mixing bowl,” she said, reading the instructions.

“Ahead of you.” Nathan put a glass mixing bowl on the bench with a gentle clink.

“And whisk the flour, almond flour and salt together.”

“Whisk,” he said, and got out a wooden spoon.

“If you do your mixing, then, while I cream the butter and sugars? It says to use a mixer but I reckon I can do it well enough.”

“I believe in you,” he encouraged her.

She flashed him a smile, then picked up a tablespoon and set to work on it. Nathan was done much more quickly than she was, but watched her attentively and was ready with the first egg yolk as soon as she proclaimed it done.

“I can take over if you want,” he offered, but she shook her head. “Maybe in a bit when the going gets tough.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Patience mixed in silence until it was done, then separated it into two batches.

Once they had shaped the first batch, Nathan read the recipe. “Okay, time to chill.”

She grinned. “Excellent.”

They passed the time until the cookies were ready for the oven in a theological discussion about the terminologies used for God in the Bible. At ‘God of my refuge’, the timer went off and both abandoned their discussion reluctantly, promising one another that they would come back to it later.

They rolled out the dough in companionable conversation, but not about the theological discussion, since Patience wanted to be able to cross-reference and find exactly where each term was used, which she couldn’t exactly do with floury hands. The biscuits they made a perfectly round shape, with small heart shapes in the middle. Nathan made a heart shape with his hands after handing the cutter to Patience. “‘Cause I love you,” he said romantically.

“Love you too,” she retorted, face lighting up with a smile.

“Great, glad to hear that,” he said, looking a little flushed as he kept on cutting out circles and handing precisely half of them to Patience for the additional heart.

Once they were in the oven, they returned to their seats. Patience was the one to remember the timer, which Nathan said was just as well, since he’d forgotten about it and the cookies would be rather blacker than intended if he’d been the one to remember.

While they were cooling, Patience picked up the Bible again. “Where’s that verse about the Lord being a strong tower that the righteous run into?”

“Psalms, I’m pretty sure. Maybe Jonah. Probably Psalms though.”

“Why Jonah?” she mused, already flipping through Psalms slowly and scanning for the desired verse.

“I don’t know. I always get it mixed up with Jonah’s prayer, but I don’t think it’s in there at all.”

“No, neither do I—aha! Found it. It’s not in Psalms at all. I thought suddenly that it might be in Proverbs so I checked. Eighteen, verse ten.”

“Thanks for finding it. Isn’t it interesting?” Nathan added, glancing at her. “The many different ways God is revealed as a—a thing? You know, I can’t remember the word but you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean. Not just merciful and gracious and all that, but as a refuge, a hiding place, a strong tower. Isn’t it exciting?”

“Exciting seems the wrong word to me,” he demurred.

“Well, it’s exciting to me,” she said firmly. “D’you think the cookies will be cool yet? I want to en-jam them and try them.”

Nathan laughed kindly at her. “They won’t be cool for a while, Pat.”

Nathan and Patience were using this recipe for their cookies! I've never made it but it looked fun. The bit about terminologies used for God was stolen from a conversation I had the other day with... someone on Chrumblr but I forget who. If you see it, hope you don't mind lol. Tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun@graycedelfin@pilgrimsofworship and @choasuqeen

#februfluff2024 #nathan #patience

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sweetwatersong · 2 years

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It's the residual anger from talking to his parents that has Buck making dinner as if the devil himself is settled between his shoulder blades. Somehow that conversation was harder when water hung heavy in the Virginia air, when the dry hills of Los Angeles weren't there to remind him he made it out. The ancient mountains of Appalachia are apparently just too damn close to Pennsylvania, literally and figuratively, and he can still hear his mother's comment about choosing not to visit them through the sizzle of oil on the stove.

He hates it. Hates that they make him so upset, hates that he picked a fight with Eddie over the missing almond extract and nutmeg for the cake, hates that his husband is spending time in their hard-earned vacation getting said ingredients because it will mollify him, give them both breathing space. Hates the hot, oppressive weight of summer on the East Coast and the expectations he thought he outgrew.

Hates that he's terrified about one day settling this same weight on Christopher.

Buck glances over at the preteen in question and pauses. Christopher has abandoned pretending to be absorbed in his Switch to look with concern out of the living room window.

"What's up?"

He frowns and actually answers, apparently too preoccupied to remember that he was mad at Buck for fighting with Eddie. "Is it going to storm?"

Buck takes the unintended olive branch for what it is. He turns the stove off and makes his way to the window bay, ducking his head to peer out. Sure enough dark clouds line the horizon, bubbling towards them over the rounded tops of the nearby mountains.

"Looks like it." He glances down. "What's on your mind?"

"The owners would have told us about the fire evacuation route if we needed it, right? I didn't see any in the binder."

It takes Buck by surprise but it shouldn't. Of course their kid would absorb all their wildfire safety lessons and look for a designated evac route in the AirBNB information. Of course he would. Christopher's worry makes perfect sense. Their only car is the rental one that Eddie's taken down the mountain to the grocery store so if they need to evacuate they'll be in a tight spot. The twenty minutes before Eddie's due back would be enough time for a spark in the California hills to spread like, well, fire.

Meanwhile, whether it's the press of humidity or the dense foliage literally everywhere he looks, Buck's mind has switched back to East Coast mode. The likelihood of a lightning strike starting a fire hasn't even occurred to him.

"Yeah, bud." He aims for reassuring, not condescending, because preteen sensibilities are tricky at the best of times. "There's no evac route because we're in an entirely different ecosystem, right? Out here on the East Coast, everything's so wet it usually takes a big drought for fire to be a risk. And with all this green it's pretty clear that's not a problem right now."

"Yeah." Christopher sounds understandably dubious. "So people here don't have fire seasons?"

"Nah, they have hurricanes. Which, let me tell you, are something else entirely, and why we're here in June instead of September."

The storm's moving quickly. Just over the ridge the first visible, fat drops of rain have begun to fall. Christopher watches them with a bafflement more reminiscent of his younger self than his current awkward forays into being a teen and the sight of it stirs something in Buck's chest. These reminders of the kid he first met are becoming rarer and rarer with each passing month. He's trying to treasure them every time he finds them now because some day their son is going to be a teenager and will rightfully be too cool for his dads, one of whom is still fighting with the ghost of his own teenage years.

A patter starts on the roof, a rhythm familiar down to Buck's bones. He seizes the moment of inspiration and straightens, nodding his head towards the door as the sound rapidly gains speed.

"C'mon. It's safe; I don't hear any thunder."

Christopher is openly confused but sets aside his Switch and follows Buck with skeptical eyes as they step out onto the front porch, his crutches clacking on the concrete.

"Are we watching it rain? I've seen it rain before."

"Maybe, but have you ever gone out puddle jumping in it?" Buck grins at him and steps off onto the walkway, the flagstone cold under his bare feet. The shower is cool on his shoulders, gentle on his face, and Buck's suddenly back in the days of his childhood; back in a hundred summer afternoons when the breaking of the heat was the only relief in his confusing, hollow battle of growing up. When it was just him and the rain and the sensation of being fully in his body instead of his head.

He cracks an eye and looks back to see Christopher staring at him from the safety of the porch. "What? Are you going to leave me hanging?"

Christopher's face says quite clearly that he thinks his pops is being an idiot but he braces his crutches on the flagstone and follows Buck out anyway. Buck's heart has so much love for him that it hurts. He won't do to Christopher what his parents did - still do - to him. He won't.

Unlike his parents, he loves his son.

Christopher yelps as soon as the cold rain sticks to his skin. Buck laughs. "Feels good, right?" He calls over the din. His own shirt is rapidly becoming soaked, wicking sweat from the back of his neck down the curve of his spine and taking his tension with it.

Overcoming his shock Christopher relaxes, blinking. "Yeah!" He tilts his head back, letting the rain splatter across his face and glasses. "It almost tickles."

"Kinda does, doesn't it."

The storm is continuing to race through; already the rain is so thick the air looks white, the trees at the edge of the yard hazy and obscured. Water's begun to pool in the grass next to the walkway. Buck grins.

"I gotta show you, this is the best part!"

He jumps into the growing puddle with both feet. It splashes to gratifying effect for being so shallow, even managing to catch Christopher in the shins. Christopher shrieks.

"Pops! No fair!"

He turns his head, looking for a puddle of his own, and jumps into it without hesitation. Buck laughs when the spray catches him, and it's - it's like the noise takes with it all the big, dark anger that's been spinning in his chest. There's no place in this moment for the rancor or the resentment, the remembered push and pull of trying to be someone - something - he's not. He feels blessedly empty; gratifyingly simple.

Right here, right now, he's all he ever needs to be, for himself and his husband and his son: Buck. Just Buck.

Christopher hops to another puddle, this one made deeper by a depression in the lawn, and Buck twists to let most of the water catch on the backs of his legs. They're both giggling madly at this point, probably only one step away from straight up kicking water at each other, and it's - it's good. It's just good.

In another few minutes they'll go back inside, tugging off their uncomfortable wet clothes and trying not to drip on the tile floor. He'll throw it all in another load of laundry and ask Christopher to mop up any stray puddles before Eddie pulls back into the driveway with the groceries. He'll catch him at the door and kiss an apology into his lips, his cheek, the curve of his wedding band. They'll have dinner together as the trees drip the remnants of rain onto ferns and the clouds gradually darken, finally leaving the kitchen's warm lights to shine into a night of reflected light and fireflies. Eddie will complain about Buck stealing his shirt when he changed and Christopher will be over his fathers' shameless flirting and Buck will serve a molten chocolate cake that won't remind him quite so painfully of his childhood home, the sweetness Hershey promised but didn't hold.

But for now, for now, Buck lets the rain come down as he laughs with his son, dancing in the rain, and the storm washes the world around them clean.

#911 fox #buddie #my writing #apparently storms give me feelings so?#have my #daily writing #for sunday #hmm ao3 tags would be #angst with happy ending #christopher diaz is a national treasure #established buck/eddie #in this household we acknowledge and address generational trauma

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meandfood · 10 months

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This one is going to be wordy.

Hello. I’m Jessica and I have some shit going on. This is supposed to be about my relationship with food so I’ll stick to that.

I have disordered eating.

Ouch. I’ve probably said that one other time. Ever. I make a lot of excuses. “It’s not ME because the meds (I’ve got some medical things… multiple sclerosis to name just one) messed up my stomach”…. Aka I don’t feel hunger until I’m nauseous. Which is true.

But it’s deeper. It’s longer. I grew up pretty poor. Still poor by the way. My family never went out to eat but I remember eating free cereal at the college my mothers husband was a security guard at. My mother would sometimes get taco bell after church and say to me “we have sandwich stuff at the house” when we really didn’t. An exciting dessert was dipping white bread in syrup. So what then? Scarcity food complex and some complex I don’t know the wording for that has to do with my basic needs not being met.

And then… when I was pretty young I started getting pretty sick. A doctor told me about food triggers and ever since then I’ve spiraled for around 30 years.

Won’t eat: msg, soy, too much dairy, tomato sauces, chocolate, peanuts, green candy, yeast extract, and MANY MANY MORE things. All because at one point I felt they were associated with a health episode.

Oh and I’m vegetarian.

My current diet quiet literally is as follows. Around 12 I eat a tortilla with cheese, tortilla chips, possibly a soft pretzel, and handfuls of dry cereal. Sometimes I’ll mix it up and have a baked potato. Like a couple times a month at most. Then I pass the fuck out. Dinner happens anywhere from 9-11 pm. It is always a tortilla with quinoa beans quac and cheese. I eat it with tortilla chips. Then I binge dry cereal almond butter and Graham crackers till I once again pass out. And I always wake up anxious and nauseated. Like I’ve eaten sharp bricks.

I weigh 103 lbs. I am 5foot7. Just for posterity. I don’t want to be this size personally. I’d like to get about 30lbs on at least.

So I’m going to cook. I’m going to eat. I don’t know how to do either of those things. So I did what no one does anymore and went to the bookstore.

I think these are fucking gold and together they were under $20. Thanks used book store.

The new professional chef one is daunting.

There is that much to learn before I even touch a knife. And a lot of food issues to be dealt with along the way. Gods I hope I keep this up.

But while I read:learn all that up there… I’ll hop on into how to bake… first up… IRISH SODA BREAD! Hey I’m Irish. I’ve never had Irish soda bread and the only bread I’ve made is a basic rustic loaf but I’ve got buttermilk in the fridge so stay tuned…

🖤

Ps: if you have issues with food… let’s chat.

#disordered eating cw #disordered eating recovery #trigger warning ed

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millenniumfae · 3 years

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Video Game Cooking: Nectar (Hades 2018)

Nectar is one of the in-game items Zagreus can collect. By gifting these bottles of golden liquid to other characters, he raises his affinity with them, which in turn gives him powerup items and advances character questlines.

Hades (2018) is a retelling/adaptation of the classical Persephone and Hades mythos. All items, settings, and characters are from classic Greek mythology; Zagreus’ foster mother is the primordial goddess of night. Achilles’ personal questline is about reuniting him with his lover Patrocles. Zagreus has spent his entire life sheltered underground in Tartarus, so he doesn’t know what birds are, or what winter is.

In turn, ‘nectar’ exists in Greek mythology. It’s sometimes interchangeable with ambrosia; both are the legendary foods/drinks of the gods, said to grant immortality to anyone who consumes them, amongst other positive effects. In-game, nectar is the more commonplace counterpart to ambrosia; Zagreus finds nectar as a dungeon drop. But he needs to defeat the champion of Elysium boss to gain a single bottle of ambrosia.

Today, we’re gonna re-create the nectar of Hades (2018) for ourselves! It may be contraband in Hades’ domain, but it’s not like anyone pays attention to that rule, anyways.

Why are we recreating nectar, and not ambrosia? Because there already exists tons of ‘ambrosia’ drink recipes. Maybe not based off of the Hades (2018) version, but there’s nothing new or exciting in making yet another ambrosia drink. Nectar, on the other hand, gives us more room for invention.

Hades (2018) Nectar Recipe (Makes One Serving)

1 1/3 cups Martinelli's sparkling cider

2 tablespoons orange flower water

1 tablespoon honey

1/4 teaspoon edible gold shimmer powder (make sure it lists all ingredients, and is certified food safe)

A pinch of coarse sea salt

A pinch of lemon zest

A drop of mint extract

The first times Zagreus gifts nectar to npcs, they describe honoring some sort of godhood custom and exchange with him with a ‘keepsake’ - an in-game powerup he can wear. Unlike with gifting ambrosia, their eyes don’t pop out with shock at receiving such a luxurious gift, it’s instead just something nice, even if relatively commonplace. But nectar is still prestigious enough that gifting the actual Olympic gods nectar goes over well.

If ambrosia is the equivalent of Zagreus gifting $30,000,000 Breguet watches to his friends and family, then nectar is the gourmet-wrapped basket of cheese and crackers you see in the ‘gift’ section of the grocery store. Something you spot while on errands, and impulsively buy so you have a hostess gift the next time someone invites you over. It’s a gift borne of societal custom, and implores the giftee to give you something in return, eventually. Everyone from your multimillionaire uncle Poseidon to your humble jailbird neighbor Sisyphus are pleased to receive such a gift, even if they might value its contents differently.

(In the early-access versions of the game, nectar was ambrosia. The final release wrote ambrosia as the coveted, rare prize you earn after defeating the champions of Elysium. True enough, Zagreus can only find ambrosia after defeating the Elysium boss.)

In original Greek mythology, ‘nectar’ and ‘ambrosia’ aren’t two distinct things. Homer describes nectar as the god’s drink, and ambrosia is the food. But in Sappho’s and Anaxandrides’s poems, it’s the opposite. There’s more recorded mentions of ‘ambrosia’, rather than nectar. Some take this to mean that both nectar and ambrosia can be seen as something both food and drink, like honey.

Both share canonical similarities. Ambrosia and nectar are fragrant foods/drinks, sometimes used as literal perfume by the gods. Makes sense that nectar smells good, if in the AD period we’ve taken the word to mean the sweet stuff within flowers.

Other than its smell, we’ve no canonical information about nectar (other than in the Odyssey, nectar is described as either ‘rose-red’ in color, or in scent). Hades (2018) rendered nectar’s appearance as an opaque, warm gold liquid in a cute little round bottle, wrapped with a ribbon to benefit its ‘gift merchandise’ reputation.

Nobody in Hades (2018) describes the taste/smell of nectar. Ambrosia, on the other hand, is said to be rare ‘vintages’ that you’re guaranteed to like. Sometimes, gifting either results in a cutscene where Zagreus and co. hang out at the lounge, complete with a sound clip of uncorking a bottle and pouring it into a tall glass. You can also see characters drink nectar amongst each other, savoring both the occasion and the taste. Eurydice also offers a ‘Refreshing Nectar’ power up item, which just kinda looks like normal nectar but in a tall glass.

There’s a clear alcohol equivalence. But nobody references drunkeness in-game. Even original classical Greek culture didn’t have a drunk culture like we do; wine was revered, but it was mixed with water to be savored, not to intoxicate oneself. Maybe nobody in-game can get drunk in the first place; everyone’s either an immortal, or a ghost.

(In my opinion, it’s always a bit weird when videogame characters can nurture deep, trusting relationships purely built upon a system of gifting items. But Hades (2018) does make it clear that Zagreus already has established relationships with most of the cast.)

Ambrosia’s a rare vintage. So what does that make nectar? We need to make something sweet, pleasant, attractive-looking, and also tangibly related to its rarer sibling. So we’re using another liquid that’s distilled and sometimes fermented; apple cider.

A bit of this decision comes from the soundbite of opening up a nectar in the lounge; it’s a thin viscosity with a slight hint of foam, almost sounding like beer. And the color matters too, since different distillations of apple cider can result in different colors, ranging from dark brown to a light, bright gold.

Apple juice, when fermented, can have alcohol contents going from light apple wine, to brandies that have 10-25% alcohol. As a culinary ingredient, its modest fructose content means a higher temperature tolerance, and its citric acid can be used as a brine. It’s a popular ‘new world’ ingredient in cooking and baking.

It’s also an ‘old world’ food. Hades (2018) doesn’t take itself super seriously, with its foil-wrapped gyros and french fries as in-game healing items. But any character/worldbuilding they do have, they keep it consistent.

Zagreus says that Hermes’ symbol “almost looks like a bat wing”, when it’s very clearly a bird wing. Because he’s lived underground his whole life, he doesn’t know what a bird is. Weapons upgraded with the aspect of people like Guan Yu, or King Arthur, are time-bending powers that no one has ever heard of, with hints that these mysterious people live in places with their own gods/mythology. Zagreus catches a trout/bass/sturgeon fish for the first time, and it’s completely foreign to him, but Achilles fondly recalls these Greece-native fish fitting of his Nereid heritage. Characters have discussions about how mortals fear death, despite Thanatos being a gentle god represented by butterflies. There’s no sun, therefore no time, in the underworld. Hades is the god of minerals as well as the underworld, hence gems and diamonds being an in-game loot.

Apples originated in Central Asia. During the Classical Greek era, they would have resembled what we call crabapples; small, hard, sour, cherry-sized. “At the Sammardenchia-Cueis site near Udine in Northeastern Italy, seeds from some form of apples have been found in material carbon dated to around 4000 BCE.”

It implores me to find ingredients that fit the setting, as with my other Video Game Cooking recipes. No pumpkins, no corn, potatoes, chocolate, tomatoes, vanilla. Instead, we have things like almonds, lentils, oranges, honey, garlic, onions (haha, suck it Achilles)

To reflect nectar’s ‘sweet smelling’ trait, we’re using an ingredient common in Persian cooking - and later the French royal court of King Louis; orange flower water. I found mine in my local Asian grocery. It’s a byproduct of making essential oil, and it’s colorless/flavorless, but with a strong aromatic smell that affects any food you mix it with. It’s also a known ingredient in modern day Greece, called anthonero (ανθόνερο).

(Eeurydice is confirmed to use both nectar and ambrosia as a cooking ingredient, and her food is apparently amazing. Maybe one day, I’ll make another Video Game Cooking recipe based off of her Pom Porridge, or Ambrosia Delights.)

And to really make it look like the food of the gods, we’re adding an ingredient found more and more in swanky bars worldwide; edible glitter powder. Originally, people only used this to decorate baked goods and candies, but come Instagram, people are making these really picturesque cocktails that shimmer rainbow. You gotta be careful when buying these for yourself, though; the tiny tins of decorative edible shimmer power you find at Michaels may not actually be as edible as they claim. I found Bakell-brand Luster Dust at a bake-supply shop. If it doesn’t list its ingredients, or certify itself as FDA-approved, then don’t use it for food.

And since it’s called ‘nectar’, we’re also adding honey. Which has long history of its divine status as a holy food. To take down the intense sweetness a bit, the tinest pinch of sea salt - another holy, pure substance. And to really bring out the brightness of the apples, we’re adding a sprinkle of lemon zest. A tiny drop of mint extract brings a complex depth to the orange flower smell.

To make a glass of nectar; cover the bottom of the glass with mint, lemon, sea salt, honey, and orange flower water. Then, pour the apple cider with the gold shimmer dust together, so that the two mix together a bit, to avoid clumping of the powder. Then you mix the drink a bit, so that the honey, zest, and salt aren’t sitting at the bottom.

It only now occurs to me that this recipe might actually be a rendition of Eurydice’s Refreshing Nectar item, rather than pure nectar itself. But just take my word for it; when you open up a bottle of nectar, you get that whiff of blossoms with the slight coldness of mint, and the sea salt/honey taste goes really well with the apple juice. I imagine that Eurydice’s somehow making a further delicious drink by adding a splash of Bailoni and ice.

Enjoy! Just imagine that you’re hanging out with Zagreus and his three partners, cracking a cold one open over stories about how crazy the surface world is. Did you know that we have machines called computers that instantly relay information all over the world??

#hades game #hades #hades 2018 #hades (2018)#hades supergiant #video game cooking

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mallowstep · 3 years

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Oh sweet! I wasn't sure because I haven't been following for long so idk if you've posted about baking before in general lol. I don't like, laugh at recipes, you gotta respect the recipe lol. But I just love trying new things when I bake, so I'm happy to share recipes! A favorite among my friends (and coworkers) would be my snickerdoodle recipe! That ones always a hit, though my favorite thing to make are tarts, preferably fruit tarts but lemon or pumpkin tarts are always great haha. I like swapping out the vanilla extract in lemon tarts for almond, gives it an extra kick, like you think that the flavour trip is over but wait!! there's more!! Anyway, the oat story was my introduction to baking (cooking definitely requires stricter rules, at least for me, not ready to experiment with that yet lol), so you've got at least a nine-year head start in terms of when we started baking lol. And the question about pineapple on pizza was because if you did like that flavor combo, I would have recommended a similar thing you can make at home when you don't want an actual pizza. Enjoy your cookies!!

ah yeah i made an excellent chocolate cake a while back that i shared some photos of. it was so much goddamn effort and all i wanted was one slice of -- you know how restaurants sell flourless (but not actually) chocolate cakes/french chocolate cakes and it looks like it's going to be so good but it never is? i wanted what you think you're getting

problem is i had three layers of cake and i only wanted one piece.

i do more pastries and breads than cookies and cakes in general, but until i tame the oven, i'm not attempting puff pastry. also puff pastry takes up a lot of space and we have a tiny kitchen. i do hope to make a loaf or two of bread this weekend tho. maybe i'll share photos.

my favourite thing to make is probably raspberry turnovers, but i make them -- if my family is lucky -- once a year, because it is usually a multi-day process. (it'd be faster if i bought raspberry preserves but i prefer not to.)

after that, it's bread. i adore bread.

that said i'm a notoriously proud baker. uh. at home my family has a tendency to pop up in the kitchen right when things are coming out of the oven lest i deem something unsatisfactory and throw it away.

i still haven't forgiven them for forcibly preventing me from throwing away a ciabatta that failed to rise.

like i said, i've been baking about since i could talk, so i'm...well. not with everything, but with a lot of things, i can make it without thinking. i don't have a banana bread recipe, i mash however many bananas i have, add sugar and butter and egg in correct proprotions, add flour, etc., until the texture is right. basically. i'm tired so if i'm forgetting something basic well. i wouldn't make banana bread without looking at an ingredients list at this hour xd.

i certainly do follow recipes, i'm just confident in my ability to fuck around with them. made my mom a grapefruit cake for her birthday which was one of the more nerve-wracking things i've done because she wanted a really specific cake and i had to adjust from lemon to grapefruit and i'd never worked with grapefruit zest before.

and i'm so with you on not being able to experiment with cooking! hell, baked ziti is literally pasta + sauce + cheese in dutch oven/corningware/casserole dish/etc for about fourty five minutes and i still need to look at a recipe.

then again i've only just started cooking, lmao.

urgh i wouldn't be able to find it now but a while ago i made a joke about how my like. big kid moment was when my mom decided i was strong enough to move the stand mixer by myself. from that day on i was unstoppable.

hnng now i want to make lemon bars.

(i always want to make lemon bars and i never actually make them because i hate prepping stuff for fruit. that's why i rarely make raspberry turnovers even tho i love them. exception is blueberry pie because prep for that is basically pour blueberries in pie tin have a good day.)

um. sorry. i'm tired and like baking a lot and miss my kitchen at home. having A Kitchen is worlds better than last year, but it's not the same.

welcome to the blog! i tend to be chatty when i bake because of waiting periods or my arms being tired or etc, and when it's something Photogenic i like to share pictures.

#ask #anon #mine #not about warriors #2021

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maverique-n00b-witch · 3 years

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I made these cookies from this recipe! They're like a nice light shortbread. I might try to get my hands on some oat flour to make a gluten free version.

Changes I made:

1. I used almond flour from Aldi for the grated almonds. It's pretty coarse so it works.

2. I used 1/2 cup of butter because 1/4 cup wasn't enough.

3. I put in maybe a tablespoon of honey, a dash of vanilla extract, and a few shakes each of cinnamon and nutmeg.

I mixed all the ingredients together with my (clean) hands because a spoon wasn't working and I didn't feel like getting out my mixer. I used a 2-ish inch moon cookie cutter and got 25 cookies including the last little bit of dough which was just enough to shape into a moon shape and bake with the rest of them. I'll probably start making these on full moons 😊😊😊

Tips if you make this:

1. If you leave out the almonds/almond flour, you might just need 1/4 cup of butter like the recipe calls for. But if you do add the almond stuff, you'll definitely need the excess butter or the dough won't come together.

2. If you want the almond taste without the extra bulk of grated almonds, throw in some almond extract!

3. Put flour on your work surface and on your rolling pin before you roll the dough out to prevent sticking.

4. You don't have to add the cinnamon, nutmeg, honey, or vanilla. You can add the things listed in the recipe image, or other stuff. I bet they would be good with pumpkin pie spice, or with key lime zest. Maybe even something like rum flavoring. The possibilities are endless!

5. If you're an inexperienced baker, make sure you leave the butter out for a while so it will come to room temperature and get soft. To get the egg yolk, just crack the egg into a separate bowl and you can literally just lift the yolk out of the white with your (clean) fingers if you're careful. Just get your fingers under the yolk and pick it up, letting the white slip through your fingers.

#baby witch #witchcraft #witchblr #witch tips #recipes

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laurkamkitchen · 3 years

Link

If you guys follow this blog at all, you know how frequently I make and reblog this almond butter chia pudding, which has long been a go-to of mine and was, in fact, the first ever post on this blog. But since blackberries are in season right now, I thought I’d try something a little different which I now, in fact, slightly regret.

I took about 2/3 of this recipe, although when it came time to add in the chia seeds, I did miscalculate some and I think perhaps ended up overcompensating and removing too much, as this morning when I went to remove this from the fridge, it was not as thick as I would have liked. Since vanilla almond milk is impossible to source here, I actually went ahead and added a dash of vanilla extract to compensate some.

I did initially skip the drizzle of honey, but this morning while I eating this, I ended up grabbing some agave and adding it in at the last minute, as it really did need a little something extra. I also almost forgot about the sliced almonds (which, how? ‘almond’ is literally in the title), but thankfully remembered in time, as again, this would have been pretty plain without them.

And it actually was kind of plain regardless, which was disappointing. I don’t want to give up too soon and take this a sign I should just stick to the old tried and true, but this wasn’t exactly encouraging. I consider myself well-versed in the art of chia pudding, and this really was just not it.

#chia pudding #blackberry #almond #breakfast #vegan #make ahead

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swanqiu · 3 years

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a follow-up to that last photoset about the place by the sea and what a hypothetical universe would look like for cho if she ever moved to a place like that:

cho lives in a four-storey building, with her flat being the entirety of the third floor.

a small but cozy bakery-slash-cafe operates out of the ground floor unit, and the owner is an elderly french widow called emeline (nicknamed lynne) whose flat is on the second floor of the building. the entire seaside town loves and adores and goes to lynne’s bakery for their morning almond croissant/afternoon date square/evening affogato.

(which means cho is fortunate enough to always have the smell of coffee and vanilla extract and brown butter wafting through her windows and vents at any given time of the year. #blessed)

the tenant(s) of the flat on the fourth floor is undecided but maybe it’s a sweet family of four and they have a dog that makes its way down the fire escape to cho’s balcony every morning! maybe the flat stays empty most of the year except for vacation seasons when tourism picks up and people rent out that unit through airbnb!

(maybe— if this were to become an official verse for cho— the tenant is your muse and they become really good friends after they decide it’s easier and cheaper to just share a wi-fi router for their units! and a shared wi-fi router leads to a shared netflix account and a shared netflix account leads to a spotify partner plan and a spotify partner plan leads to giving each other a set of keys to their respective flats for just-because reasons...)

anyway, cho doesn’t really use magic here. it’s fine, she doesn’t really need to anymore; she’s used to doing things the muggle way, and besides— as much as she knows about charms, nothing quite beats the charm of this seaside town hehe get it.

she has her own photo studio and store here, where she spends a lot of time taking photos of the town and the waterfront and the sand dunes and the docks and then turning them into postcards or souvenirs or framed pieces. she takes and sells photos of tourists and the townsfolk, too, and is one of the few local photo studios who still invests in and develops camera film.

(okay, so she kind of lies about not using magic anymore. she uses small charms to preserve her photo developing and chemical fluids past their normal expiration dates, to make the photos and the colors really pop, and she also charms the actual photos just a little bit so that if the muggles look at it long enough and close enough, they’ll see the photos... moving? how weird!! so strange!! must be the light playing tricks on their vision ha ha ha!! 😏)

her wizarding world friends visit from time to time, and she always loves letting them crash on her couch for however long they’re in town. she makes a big deal about planning an itinerary of sights to see and things to do but also always leaves ample time to just laze around and catch up and just talk late into the night as they look at the stars and their reflection over the ocean.

anyway, cho just lives a very happy and contented and people-filled life in this seaside town after 18 canonical years of experiencing death and grief and trauma and a literal war and yeah, i love her being happy and cultivating her passions and investing in other people while she’s at it!

#// i just have a lot of feelings about cho being happy and full of love somewhere by the ocean!!#this isn’t really a headcanon lol but it’s going under the tag for:#indiecho character study #actually you know what this is also gonna be a not-so-secret-anymore wishlist item #indiecho wishlist #made sure i queued this right after i queued the photoset because loool that photoset made me feel things

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years

Note

Could you do some fluffy josh head cannons/ one shots? 🥰

Sure can! How about this: I'll write a few little blurbs about various fluffy situations with Josh and you can pick which ones you like (or all of them! Lol)

Fluffy Josh Blurbs

You couldn't contain your laughter, and it was totally spurring Josh on. He continued stirring the bowl of batter as he slowly added the cocoa powder and sang his little song.

"Makin' some cake! Gonna be goodddd~ C'mon, baby, sing with me?"

How could you resist? His cheeks were glowing pink and he had smears of flour on his forehead; he was adorable.

Your voices rose together as you finished adding the vanilla extract and almonds.

"Makin' some cake! Gonna be goodddd~"

It was Christmastime, and Josh was literally an elf. He had the rosy cheeks, the chestnut curls, the merry disposition, and the gaudy Christmas sweater. Plus, he was tiny (as always).

His movements were quick yet controlled as he twisted the leather cording he was working. When asked what he was doing, he just grinned wider and nodded towards the complex chain of braided knots that was being produced. Occasionally, he stopped to slip a bead made out of animal bone or colored glass onto the leather strand before continuing on, the additional knots securing it in place.

He was captivating to watch. Even if his motions were simply being repeated in pattern, the efficiency of his braiding was almost unbelievable. It seemed like only a short while later that he had a finished chocker in his hands, and was adding a crystal pendant to the center of it.

Josh brushed invisible dust from his green and red knit sweater and stood up, holding the necklace out.

“For you! Merry Early Christmas!”

Josh yawned and stretched, arms reaching out and back arching like a cat on his knees. He flopped back down onto his stomach afterwards, kicking his short legs out to either side of himself so that he was "starfished".

"'M still tired. Don' wanna get up..." he slurred, blinking slowly at you.

You knew there were places the two of you needed to be. Appointments set well in advance, people to meet, errands to run; a nice, sunny day to go out and greet.

But Josh was so cute (and convincing with that cuteness) sprawled out in bed, naked except for a pair of faded pink boxers and his rolled mass of curls.

"Okay, just a couple minutes."

Were you going to have to rush a bit to get ready in time now? Yes. Was it worth it? Absolutely. Josh smiled and stretched his arm out, reaching for you.

He held you close to his side, wiggling around until he was facing you and could rest his forehead against yours. His eyes slipped shut, soft breaths becoming slower as his whole (small) weight slumped against you.

Josh murmered something, too slurred for you to understand, and kissed you softly. It was sweet and chastes, but it held a world of sleepy love. When he pulled pack, his eyes still closed, his cheeks were faintly glowing. Josh buried his face in your neck, arms tightening around you again, and snuggled in for as long as you would let him.

Josh in a flower crown was goddamned cute. It was made of daisies and orange peonies with little spots of blue columbine, woven together at the stems by the lady at the fair booth. Only visible when he turned his head to catch the sunlight, strands of golden thread and small, ornate pins revealed themselves in flashes; like hidden treasures in a field of flowers.

As soon as she'd seen Josh, she had insisted that that specific crown was the one and that he had to get is. At five dollars, Josh couldn't say no, and soon he was prancing away with his floral wreath nestled firmly into his nest of hair.

Many people stopped and stared; not maliciously, but surprised or delighted to see such an adorable little man skipping along in a flower crown and bell bottoms. He was like a fairy, a time traveler, some sort of otherworldy being of sunshine come straight from a universe where the 70s lived on forever.

An orange petal fell away and drifted down, softly landing on the grass where it sat until Josh picked it up again. He examined it closely, running the wide pad of his thumb over its velvety soft edge. Then, he closed his eyes, seemed to whisoer something to it, and blew it away like a kiss.

It was miraculous that the flower petal caught a breeze and actually floated away for some time; it landed, surely, but it was out of sight. Which meant the experience was magical, and Josh was smiling bigger than ever, gently adjusting his crown and sitting back in the grass.

A goddamned cutie.

----------

@satans-helper @oblvions @ryetheruler @karrotkate @mountainofthesunn @onlyan-angel @ageofphilosophy @love-philautia @lantern-inthenight @livewiredroger @brianmaysclog @1800endmeplease @tymeconsuming @love-n-my-heart-4-n-army-apart @therealswanqueen

#joshie sunshine #josh kiszka #gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fic #drabbles #my writing #lulucrowproductions #fluff #asks answered #fanfiction asks

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imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper · 3 years

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Rules: Tag nine people you wanna know better

Thank you to @not-your-housekeeper98 for the tag :)!!

Favorite color: I like literally all three of the primary colors and it tends to fluctuate between them.

Last song: “M’lover” by Kishi Bashi (https://youtu.be/tJy2R31xpl8) and also since I want people to hear it because it is very soothing “Cuckoo Song” (https://youtu.be/cbQyFZmuA58) by Cosmo Sheldrake.

Last movie: I don’t watch movies a lot so I think it might actually be Arthur Christmas?? Which I watched on Christmas Eve hkjsf....

Reading: Just started “The Divine Comedy” and a graphic novel called “The Phantom Twin” by Lisa Brown. Also, I am forever reading fanfic (I am fully trash) so here’s a Demus fic for y’all that is just SO good: “Home Sweet Home” by Lunatic19 https://archiveofourown.org/works/26670532/chapters/65047855 and one for Legbone: “Little Miss Scare-All” by aloutte_des_champs https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739528

Currently watching: rewatching “Stranger Things” and “ATLA,” and my mom’s been watching “Victorious” a lot so that too. Also “Hilda” which needs way more love because it is so charming. Been meaning to watch The Midnight Gospel but I haven’t yet. (I just realised all of these are on Netflix, oops).

Sweet, Spicy or Savory: I have a problem when it comes to sugar y’all.

Craving: Strawberry pie with whipped cream mmm (here’s the I use recipe cause I think I might make one lol) https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/15836/strawberry-pie-ii/ (the only thing I do different is soak the strawberries in sugar, light corn syrup, lemon juice and (sparingly used) almond extract for a few hours before hand).

Tea or Coffee: You cannot make me choose, hot drinks are my LIFE.

Tagging folks stresses me out so I’m kinda bending the rules, however if you wanna do this you can say you were tagged by me :)!

Thank you so much for tagging me! I love doing these I think they’re fun!

#myjunkyposts #tagged #tagging

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mel-at-dusk · 4 years

Photo

HOW THE MARASCHINO CHERRY BECAME A COMFORTINGLY TRASHY AMERICAN ICON

Just when did the syrupy, lipstick-red lynchpin of ice cream sundaes, 1970s fruit salads and throwback cocktails conquer the world (and your grandparents’ home bar)?

The cocktail cherry may be small, but it looms like a fiery red planet over the modern history of eating and drinking. Look, there it is, bobbing around in the rust-brown murk of a Manhattan; and, hey, there it is again nestled in the snowy peak of an ice cream sundae, lurking in the syrup-soaked folds of an upended can of fruit salad, or in your parent’s drinking cabinet, languishing in a sticky jar first opened at the dawn of the Clinton administration.

For more than 100 years it’s been the Zelig of the culinary world, beaming out from multiple places it probably shouldn’t be, inviting you to spear one with a cocktail stick, bite down and let your mouth flood with the unmistakable taste of… well, what exactly?

Not actual, fresh cherries, that’s for certain. No, the taste of a cocktail, glacé or ersatz maraschino cherry has nothing to do with the luscious, grape-like subtlety of real stone-fruit. Its impact on the palate — almonds and preservatives and a great, hallucinatory wash of artificial sweetness — is the flavor profile of a cherry as described by a drunken child. Something that, even way back in 1911, was railed against in a New York Times editorial as “a tasteless, indigestible thing, originally, to be sure, a fruit of the cherry tree, but toughened and reduced to the semblance of a formless, gummy lump by long imprisonment in a bottle filled with so-called maraschino.”

And yet, even though this resistance to the gloopy, synthesized commercialism those little red globules represent is at least a century old, the cocktail cherry abides as a cultural artifact. Not just in the post-Mad Men context of master mixologists hoarding artisanal Luxardo cherries or producing their own housemade varieties, but in studiedly kitsch, revivalist dessert parlors like New York’s Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream; and even, scattered throughout Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time… in Hollywood, garnishing the industrial-strength whiskey sours of one Rick “Fucking” Dalton.

“When you see a bright red one now, it’s like a bartender with a waxed moustache and sleeve garters,” notes Jared Brown, drinks historian and master distiller with venerated British gin brand Sipsmith. “It’s no longer just itself. It’s nostalgia and irony and humor.”

So how does something so ridiculous and occasionally reviled come to have such durable appeal? How the hell are they even made? And what, exactly, do bitter food standardization wars, embalming fluids and carcinogenic food dyes have to do with it?

Well, pour yourself a stiff Mai Tai, crown it with what may be your final ever cocktail cherry, and let’s chart the turbulent life, near-death and eventual resurrection of a near-indestructible American icon.

As with most convenience foods, the cocktail cherry story starts out innocently enough. Cherries stretch back to the prehistory of Europe and West Asia, and pretty much since that time, they’ve been notorious as the frail divas of the produce aisle — difficult to transport, susceptible to bruising and known to liquefy without refrigeration. And so, innovative orchard owners in the early 1800s — most notably the Croatian-born, Italian-based Luxardo family — started preserving at-their-peak cherries, both as an alcoholic liqueur and steeped in a boozy brine made up of mulched cherries, pits and sugar.

This was the Big Bang that gave us the maraschino, named for the sour, Marasca cherry variety that Luxardo made their own. It wasn’t long until these pickled fruits were infiltrating the U.S. as part of the wider mania for cocktails in the mid-to-late 19th century. (The original 1888 recipe for the martini, as Brown notes, called for a “cherry rather than an olive.”) But soon, that original, burgundy-hued Luxardo maraschino was joined by a whole Rothko color wheel of lurid U.S.-made knock-offs, soaked in cheaper preserving syrups.

One reason for this was pure cosmetics. “The first taste is with the eye, and in the days before social media, the maraschino cherry offered a huge visual bounce,” notes Brown. “Think of it resting in the brown tone of a Manhattan — it’s like a bright red beacon in the drink. [And so,] there was a need to get it as brightly colored as possible.”

Yet it’s also notable that the maraschino cherry’s turn-of-the-century ascendancy also coincided with the wider vogue for lab-made dyes, flavorings and additives that flourished in the pre-FDA era. (Relevant: This was also a time when, at the behest of nervous dairy farmers, margarine had to literally be dyed pink in some states to broadcast the fact it wasn’t butter.) “For many years, I’ve asked audiences at tasting events what maraschino cherries, grenadine and sloe gin have in common,” says Brown. “And the answer, of course, is nothing. Nothing! And yet, go back to my childhood and they were all the same color and flavor because they came from the same lab.”

Throw in the arrival of Prohibition in 1920, and the fact it meant fruit could no longer be preserved in alcohol, and other brining methods needed to be found. It was a team of Oregon-based scientists who, after more than five years of experimentation, realized that calcium salts could preserve the Northwest’s seasonal glut of fresh cherries, and also help them retain their firmness. What’s more, in the 1930s, this same team realized that if you bleached the cherries and then dyed them red (or green, or even, occasionally, electric blue) the vivid pop of color would be even more pronounced. At this point, the American “maraschino” — leached of its natural color, embalmed in synthetic preservative and flavored with almond-derived benzaldehyde — had mutated into something only tenuously related to its European forbearer.

The original maraschino farmers in Italy were — if you can believe this — not crazy about American producers using their name to hawk cloying, cherry-shaped candies the color of antifreeze. But by 1940, they had lost a long-stewing food standardization battle, when the FDA decreed that the name “maraschino” had now evolved beyond its original meaning and, to most Americans, meant the artificially flavored neon red scourge of the Luxardo family.

And so, in the wake of World War II, the cocktail cherry’s cultural dominance truly began; slotting into an additive-laced mid-century food landscape, they gleamed from Betty Crocker cake recipes, adorned every other drink at a newly established 1950s Tiki bar chain called Trader Vic’s, and even, come 1978, gave their name to a hardcore adult film called Maraschino Cherry. “I remember adoring them,” says Brown, recalling his 1970s childhood in upstate New York. “There was nothing better, when we were out at a restaurant, than getting a cherry on a little plastic cocktail sword.”

If anything they were even more adored in the U.K., where a collective, post-rationing proclivity for all things sweet only added to their appeal. Eccentric TV chef Fanny Cradock would place them on the top of troublingly phallic “banana candle” party concoctions, and in Only Fools and Horses — a beloved, long-running BBC One sitcom about a family of luckless grifters living in South London — it became synonymous with main character Del Boy and his fondness for gaudy drinks that represented a tacky sort of sophistication. Even when I was growing up in 1990s London, my parents — first-generation Nigerians who rarely drank — would always have a glowing container of what we knew as glacé cherries beside a long-opened bottle of brandy.

“You can’t underestimate the power of a good garnish,” laughs Alice Lascelles, drinks writer and author of Ten Cocktails: The Art of Convivial Drinking. “That Day-Glo cherry is something I associate very strongly with childhood and the idea of a grown-up drink, a celebratory drink.” This mixture of childishness — of innocence — and a more adult glamor seems to be at the heart of the cocktail cherry’s appeal throughout this period toward the end of the last century; they’re fruit with all the subtlety and unpredictability chemically extracted, an unapologetic hit of trashiness that appeals to both Chuck E. Cheese birthday party attendees and the kind of chain-smoking bar flies we all sat two stools from long before social-distancing measures required it.

But, of course, the cocktail cherry party came to an abrupt halt later in the 1980s. Partly, this may have been lingering scares over the occasional use of Red Dye Number 4 — a chemical colorant with some links to cancer in animal trials — in some preserved cherries, permitted because they were deemed to be “decorative” rather than a foodstuff. Also: There were unfounded rumors about formaldehyde being used as a preservative which, perhaps fittingly, just wouldn’t die.

Mostly, though, their waning was linked to the demise of the movement that first popularized them in the U.S. “The maraschino cherry collapsed precipitously along with the collapse of cocktails,” says Brown. “Suddenly, you weren’t finding anyone over the age of 10 lunging toward maraschino cherries, and what happened was people discovered wine, which eventually went into craft beer.”

At that point, in terms of the popular consciousness, cocktail cherries were mostly glimpsed at the fringes of culture, or within insalubrious bars with “C” hygiene ratings tacked to their windows. Then, inevitably, as the cocktail revival of the mid-2000s began in coastal cities, sailor-tattooed mixologists started looking into what preceded the neon cocktail cherries of their youth, and eventually rediscovered Luxardo’s original, burgundy-colored and naturally sweetened maraschinos.

“I remember I’d race [Milk & Honey founder and bartender] Sasha Petrosky and Audrey Saunders [of the Pegu Club] to a place called Dean & Deluca because it was the only place you could buy Luxardo maraschino cherries in New York,” recalls Brown about the frenzy during the craft cocktail boom. “It didn’t matter which one of us got there first; we would end up [dividing] them out until the next shipment.” Now, Brown reports, Luxardo is sending “palette-loads a week over” for import and he himself preserves around 200 jars of maraschino-style cherries a year to sell from his home in the English countryside. In 2017, Luxardo planted 2,000 new Marasca cherry trees in Northern Italy — taking their total to 30,000 — just to keep pace with demand.

The pendulum, after all those years of traffic light-red candied cherries, has swung back to something purer again. Yet, interestingly, the unnatural cocktail varieties haven’t disappeared. They’ve had their own rebirth, whether crowning old school cocktails at acclaimed, 1960s-inspired Detroit bar Hammer and Nail, or clogging social media feeds as part of author Anna Pallai’s Twitter account-turned-campy-coffee-table-hit 70s Dinner Party. “There’s a definite trend for kitsch that’s brought them back,” says Lascelles. “Instagram has helped as well, because they really pop in a picture.”

It makes sense that the current, extremely online moment — where almost everything can be both completely sincere and larded in multiple confusing layers of irony — would be the time when both these diametrically opposed approaches to cherry preservation would find room to flourish. They are, as Brown notes, “jubilant and ebullient at a time when humor and fun is something we are all desperate for.” It seems as plain as the unearthly red glow, beaming from the bottom of a filled coupe glass in the corner. Like that opened jar in your parents’ home bar, the cocktail cherry isn’t going anywhere.

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

Text

❄❄❄

***

*Bella Basil Raspberry Tea*

Total Time - 45 minutes preparation plus chilling

Serves - 6

Ingredients

3 cups fresh raspberries

1 cup sugar

1 cup packed fresh basil leaves, coarsely chopped

1/4 cup lime juice

2 individual black tea bags

1 bottle ( 1 liter ) carbonated water or 1 bottle ( 750 milliliters ) sparkling rose wine

Ice cubes

Fresh raspberries and basil leaves, optional

Directions

In a large saucepan, combine the raspberries, sugar, basil and lime juice. Mash berries. Cook over medium heat for 7 minutes or until berries release juices.

Remove from the heat; add tea bags. Cover and steep for 20 minutes. Strain, discarding tea bags and raspberry seeds. Transfer tea to a 2 - qt. pitcher. Cover and refrigerate until serving.

Just before serving, slowly add carbonated water or wine. Serve over ice. If desired, top with raspberries and basil.

Nutrition Facts

1 cup: 281 calories, 0 fat ( 0 saturated fat ), 0 cholesterol, 9mg sodium, 44g carbohydrate ( 37g sugars, 4g fiber ), 1g protein.

*Cookie Dough Stuffed Oreos*

Yields - 30

Prep Time - 10 minutes

Total Time - 1 hour 35 minutes

Ingredients

1/2 c. ( 1 stick ) melted butter

1/2 c. granulated sugar

1/2 c. packed brown sugar

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1 c. almond flour

1/2 tsp. kosher salt

2/3 c. mini chocolate chips

24 Oreos

1 c. chocolate chips

1 tbsp. coconut oil

1/4 c. sprinkles

Directions

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together melted butter, sugars, and vanilla. Stir in almond flour and salt, then fold in mini chocolate chips.

Separate Oreos trying to keep cream intact. Place 2 tsp of cookie dough on Oreo half with cream, then sandwich with other half of Oreo. Repeat with remaining Oreos and dough.

Place chocolate chips and coconut oil in a microwave safe bowl and microwave in 30 second intervals until melted. Dip Oreos halfway into chocolate, place on prepared baking sheet, and top with sprinkles. Refrigerate until chocolate is hardened, 1 hour.

***

"You said, please, say yes." You excitedly informed him. "And I said, yes! I'm going to the New Year's Ball with you, V!"

It took the poet a full minute before he finally realized what you were talking about. And when he finally realized what your words truly meant, his eyes slowly widened and his mouth fell open in shock. He grabbed his messy hair with both hands and spoke, "That - that's your answer, right? You'll go to the Ball with me?"

"Hahaha! Of course, you silly poet!" You laughed as you threw yourself at him, hugging him and placing a tender kiss on his cheek. Oh, how sweet you smelled. What a nice morning, indeed! "See ya!"

And before V could even reciprocate with a kiss of his own, you took your hands off him, waved, and went back to your house.

Now, if it were only that easy.

"What happened to you, dear?" Adelaide asked you, a plate of fluffy pancakes in her hand.

Your hands automatically went up your hair as realization finally kicked in. "I told him I'd go the Ball with him."

"Yes, and?"

Giving your grandmother a horrified look, you answered, "I don't have a vintage dress!"

***

❄ Three Wishes ❄

***

"You're in luck." Your cousin, Avery, told you as she nudged your arm with an elbow. "I got your back."

"Thanks." You answered with a shy smile as the two of you made your way to her mansion.

It was a good thing that you called Avery first before going to the shopping district to look for a decent vintage dress. You never knew much about gowns or even dresses ( except for the ones you wear for your concours and concertos ), and you're just glad to have her around.

And honestly? She didn't disappoint. Not only were you not going to spend a single cent, you're also going to have the full vintage wardrobe experience free of charge!

Avery opened the heavy wooden door, a feat which always awed you, and allowed you to step into the threshold first before her.

The warmth of the place welcomed you like an old friend, and the entirely redesigned interior made it look as good, or even better, as new. Avery chucked ( not literally, of course ) the old Grecian statues and the rest of the old stuff away ( including your great grandfather's intimidating life - size portrait, which, if she could be honest, was already considered cursed by a lot of curators ), put them up for auction, and actually gained a lot of money from it ( well, not that Roman would refuse, anyway ). She hired a florist and an interior designer for a revamp of the mansion, and voila!

And now, as you glanced with wonder and admiration at the complete transformation of the interior, your jaw couldn't help but drop and your eyes couldn't help but widen. The house, and all the places and corners the eye could possibly reach, looked actually clean, it didn't even look like a haunted mansion, anymore. In place of the old Grecian statues were two Venetian pedestals with modern flower vases in it. The baroque period paintings were gone from the walls, replaced with modern ones depicting gardens in all four seasons. The old and worn down window frames were also replaced. Even the floorboards don't squeak anymore.

Everything was brand new! And everywhere you look, there were lots, and lots, and lots,... of flowers! And,... this actually made you a bit confused.

Avery, actually decorating her house with flowers,... ?

"Didn't know you'd go for flower power." You let out your thoughts as you followed and observed the positively radiant woman upstairs. "And you looked, ah,... different." You remarked, seeing that she finally got rid of her blue highlights and just let her hair grow naturally, letting its true auburn color show, which looked perfect in its own way. You also noticed that her style changed, as well. Instead of a loud statement shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and a pair of thick leather boots, she's wearing a pastel - colored floral dress, and a pair of wedges.

Avery,... wearing dresses?

Am I missing something here? You thought to yourself as you smiled at your cousin.

"Who? Me? Different?" Avery replied as she glanced at you at the corner of her eye.

You hummed in approval. "You looked,... radiant."

"Nah! I'm still old me. And you're the main focus here, not me. So, if you please,..." Your cousin requested as she gestured for you to open the door to the bedroom on the left hallway. You grabbed the doorknob firmly, carefully turned it, and opened the door,...

You felt a strange wave of nostalgia brush you gently in the face as you entered the old room. The huge French canopy bed on the left, the sweet scent wafting about the cozy room, the pastel colored wallpaper, the heavy floral curtains, and even the white vanity table on the right gave the impression that this room belonged to a very delicate lady,...

... who seemed very much in love.

Huh? Why did I think of that? You pondered as you heard the door close behind you.

"I had this room renovated." Avery told you as she walked towards the vanity table and placed a hand on the ornate mirror. "This belonged to gran's mom."

"Really?!" You gasped, taken by surprise by what you just heard from your cousin. Your eyes wandered once more all over the place, drinking in all the lovely sights the room could offer. It's as if,... the room itself held some sort of significance to you. Like you've been here before. "Wow,..."

"You know, V spent a lot of time in this room last October." Avery giggled as she gave you a sly sideways glance, wanting to see your reaction. And you didn't disappoint. The moment your cousin mentioned his one letter name, your face heated up, making it as red as a beetroot.

"W - what's he doing here?" You stuttered, making the other woman laugh.

"Ah! Long story. I'll tell you some other time." Avery answered as she went towards the large wooden closet on the left near the French canopy bed. "But, I'll tell you this: he's in love with gran's mom."

"Sorry?"

"Never mind." Your cousin teased as she opened the closet, revealing a huge collection of Victorian era dresses of all fabrics, colors, and shapes.

And it simply took your breath away! And instantly made you forget what Avery just revealed.

"Amazing!" You gasped in awe as Avery took one dress made completely out of lace from the huge closet. "It's so, so beautiful!"

"Look, I may tell you that this lady here suits your skin tone but, you can try as many of these as you like." Avery told you as she carefully handed you the delicate dress. "Hell, you can try all of them!"

And that's what you did for the next few hours. As tiring as it was, carefully putting on these dresses and making sure that they don't get damaged in the process, it really was fun trying them on. There were just too many, in different shades of red, blue, purple, green, and yellow, in different fabrics like lace, satin, silk, chiffon, and in different cuts, although ninety - five percent of them had extremely low necklines and all of them had tight fitting bodice.

And somehow, the dresses,...

... felt so familiar to you. From the colors perfectly matching your skin tone, to their sizes exactly fitting your form.

It was like you actually owned them.

"That's beautiful." Avery, who got so tired of waiting and elected to just sit on the bed to watch your every move, said for seemingly the hundredth time that day.

"Yes but," You answered as you uncomfortably looked down at what you’re wearing: an exquisite pale green dress with an empire waist and a pair of bishop sleeves made of voluminous silk. " ... it doesn't seem right."

Avery rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I told you. Pick whatever you like. V will not judge you if you pick the wrong one, come on!"

"No, it's not that I'm worried about V judging me." You said as you faced the closet once more. "These dresses are all beautiful, and they all fit so perfectly, it's actually scary. But, I don't feel,... special,... in any of them. In a way."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's like,... I'm happy they all fit. But, I'm not happy wearing them."

"Really? How so?"

"It's like,... ah,... how do I explain this?" You bit your lower lip as you browsed the many more dresses that were hanging inside the vintage closet belonging to your gran's mom. "It's like, I'm looking for something that resonates. That feels special. You know what I'm saying?"

"I'm not sure I know what you meant." Avery answered as she collapsed on the white pillows.

"Ah, it's so hard to - "

"Hard to what?"

You turned towards your cousin, your eyes almost popping out of their sockets and your mouth opening wide. Like you've just awoken to a huge revelation.

"Found something that resonates?" Avery asked as she rolled on the bed, propping her chin on her knuckles and playfully swaying her feet back and forth.

"I might have." You replied as you took a particular dress from the closet and made your way once again towards the massive bathroom. "Wait."

"Isn't that what you're already making V do?" Avery teased with a huge grin plastered on her face as she rolled on the bed once more and laid on her back.

"What's that?!" Your voice echoed from the bathroom. You were just too weirded out with your cousin's behavior.

"Nothing! And make it quick already! I'm starving!"

"Alright! Alright! And can you put something else in here, like a vanity table or something? It feels really empty here!"

"Just like how V feels without you?"

"Come again?!"

"Did I say something?"

"Ugh!"

Avery was clutching her stomach with both hands, hysterically laughing at her jokes when you finally came out of the bathroom. And when she saw you, her mouth simply dropped.

"Girl," She gasped, feeling as if her eyes were deceiving her. " ... you're wearing,... that?"

"Yes!" You proudly declared as you made a little pirouette, the soft fabric of the dress flowing gracefully with your movement. "Isn't this perfect?!"

"W - well," Avery said, still a bit tongue - tied, as she got off the bed and made her way towards you. " ... I must say that's a really curious choice. A good choice, nonetheless. Looks perfect, yes."

Your eyebrows knitted, confusion with Avery's strange commentary on the dress you chose starting to set in. "You don't look happy."

"What? Ugh! Come on, I said it's perfect, right? Now, get dressed and come down, I'm really starving, I could eat a huge bird right now!”

You were still staring at the dress laid carefully on the sofa a few minutes later as you and your cousin enjoyed some cookie dough stuffed oreos and bella basil raspberry tea.

"So, are you gonna tell me?" You said after taking a sip of the sweet beverage. "What V was doing there last October?"

"Ye really wanna know?"

"Well, duh. Of course."

Avery took one cookie from the huge plate and pointed it at you. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Umm, yes? No? I don't know,..."

"Well, whatever your belief is, this place," Avery said, taking a bite of the treat. " ... used to be haunted. And I commissioned the Legendary Devil Hunter to drive the spirit out. But, he refused!" She said, then took another bite. "And this man, this thin man who calls himself V, he volunteered. He confronted the Demon who took over this place," She plopped the treat into her mouth and chewed. And with a still full mouth, she said, " ... and set the tortured souls free. Safe to say he won, right?"

"Oh, I s - "

"BUT, of course, you wouldn't believe me! So, forget what I just said." Avery took another cookie and ate it whole. Then, after that, she took another one from the plate and ate it as well.

"You, ah, eat well!" You said, carefully choosing your words so as not to offend your cousin.

"Who, me?" Avery asked as she ate another cookie, then took a sip of her tea. "Nah. Must be your imagination."

" ... okay,... "

"I answered your question, now answer mine." Avery gestured at the dress on the sofa and took another treat from the almost empty plate. "What made you choose that dress?"

"Instinct." You simply answered.

"Meaning?"

"I feel it's the one, you know?"

"Just like how you feel about V?"

"OH, SH - !"

"I'm home, ladies!" Roman, who just entered the living room, greeted you and made his way towards his wife to plant a kiss on her radiant cheek. He, then, took out a box of dumplings from a plastic bag and showed it to Avery, whose eyes and mouth widened in delight.

"Roman Mikael Francisco, you greatest husband in the world!" Avery exclaimed in ecstasy as she grabbed the Chinese take out box from Roman's hand. "How did you know I'm craving this?"

"Instinct." Roman answered as he winked at you, making you nod in realization of the real situation.

"Oh, shush, you!" Avery playfully slapped Roman's hand and looked back at you. "And you! You have to go back home, it's getting late."

"I'm not a kid!" You replied with a silly grin on your face as you took the dress from the sofa. "And it's only afternoon."

"Whatever." Avery said and stood, accidentally dropping her handkerchief from her lap to the floor in the process. "Oh, it fell! Just like how you and V fell for each other!"

"Stop!"

***

❄ @la-vita , @clevermentalitybeliever , @birdgirl69 , @v-vic , and @dreaming-gamer . ❄

***

"You alright on your own?" Roman asked graciously as he walked with you towards your house. "You need help with that box? That's huge!"

"I can handle this, thanks!" You replied with a smile as you held the box containing the dress and its accessories closer to your form.

"Are you a hundred percent sure?"

"Yes."

Roman nodded, his charming smile showing on his young - looking face. "Alright, alright. I'll go back to Avery, then. She's getting more and more delicate these past few days, you know?"

"Yeah. Take care of her, alright?"

"Si, si." Roman smiled, waved, and walked back towards the mansion.

So, I'm right! You thought as you opened the door to your own house. "Gran, I'm home - "

However, something, or someone, stopped you in your tracks.

Christopher Lancaster, your narcissistic former lover, was waiting for you in the living room. What's more, he was holding an expensive - looking bouquet of red roses, there was a box of expensive French chocolate on the table, and Adelaide was looking at the man with utter hate and disdain from one corner of the room. Like he forced her to let him in the house.

"(Y/N)!" The man greeted as he stood up from the sofa and made his way towards you. "I was waiting for you."

You took a few steps back and held the box right in front of you to prevent the man from getting closer to you. "What do you want, Christopher?"

"Aww, how cold! Yikes!" The man sarcastically said as he made a shivering gesture. "I only wanted to give this to you - "

"What. Do you. Want?"

"Sheesh, can't a man invite a lady properly to the New Year's Ball?"

"Oh! Is that so?"

"So, you'll come with me! That's great news! I - "

"Get out of here, you're scaring gran."

The man drew back in shock at what he just heard. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, GET OUT! I'M NOT GOING TO THE BALL WITH YOU!"

"WHAT? YOU CAN'T REFUSE ME!"

"WELL, I JUST DID!" You yelled as you took the box of expensive chocolate from the table and shoved it forcefully into his arms. "NOW, GET OUT!"

The man gave you one last look of contempt before turning and finally leaving you and your grandmother alone.

And, hell, it felt good!

***

❄❄❄

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #three wishes #v x reader #v x you #chapter 9 #wannabe #the chordette's mr. sandman

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