beef night

Yo all, if you’re wondering what our future plans re: Archive 81 and a bunch of other stuff are… HERE’S WHERE WE TELL YOU THEM. 

Plus, Daniel Powell, Marc Sollinger, and John Maher (the actor who plays both Rat and Jeremy) answer your questions. Hear us talk about our inspirations and process! Hear us recommend fiction podcasts to tide you over until we return (Ars Paradoxica, The Bright Sessions, Welcome to Night Vale, The Black Tapes, The Bridge Podcast, The Dark Tome, Greater Boston, Darkest Night, and Beef And Dairy Network, are all things you should listen to)! Hear Marc get testier and testier as he boils to death in a 90 degree room! 

Take a listen. We can’t wait for you to hear our cool/weird/new audio thing.

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Beef Noodle Night, Taipei

February 2017

The beef noodle soup was good. The atmosphere in the lane was better. But the crabby boss was the highlight of my late night visit. I loved watching him work and yell at his staff.

He seemed annoyed by everything, including the two Japanese tourists that sat next to us. They were clearly there to eat beef noodle soup, but he was too impatient to find out, so he ended up serving them something completely different instead.

So just a tip for tourists; if you’re going to go to a local place like this, be sure to know how to speak the name of what you want (“niu rou mian” in this case) or just have it written down (牛肉麵).

For travelers, it’s definitely worth the trouble.

城中市場 老牌牛肉拉麵大王
100, Taipei City, Zhongzheng District, Lane 46, Section 1, Chongqing S Rd, 7號

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HP Aesthetic: Ravenclaw Girls | (insp)

“i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautiful
before i’ve called them intelligent or brave
i am sorry i made it sound as though
something as simple as what you’re born with
is all you have to be proud of
when you have broken mountains with your wit
from now on i will say things like
you are resilient, or you are extraordinary
not because i don’t think you’re beautiful
but because i need you to know
you are more than that.”

autistic-hoe-bff  asked:

I have a stupid question, does sock fully identify as male? Because I think he's gender fluid, but I wanted to check with you since you made the damn video

I feel like I’ve answered this question a billion times, but a quick search through my blog tells me it’s only been 2 or 3.

My stance has always been that I wasn’t initially writing Sock as anything other than a male.  He goes by ‘he’, everyone in the W2H universe accepts that without questioning it, and that’s about as much thought as I’ve given it.  I don’t have any plans to delve into his gender identity in the story, but people are definitely free to interpret characters however they see fit, and in whatever way resonates best with them.  Sock is Sock, regardless!

Watch on sarlaccsinner.tumblr.com

FNAF fans

The Inquisition Cooks for You.

So you’re hungry and just showed up in Thedas. Fortunately, your fifteen best friends have your back.

Josephine learned to make one dish, though she regrets not learning more. She stirs up a risotto, rich arborio rice from Antiva cooked down into a thick and creamy stew. At the end she adds half its weight in shredded salty cheese and a handful of black pepper. She serves it with an apology. It is delicious, the kind of food you crave when sick or sad. And that’s when she makes it.

Blackwall knows his way around a kitchen, and how to feed himself. He can turn a skittering animal into a halfway decent roast with very little at his disposal, but his real specialty, the one he cooks up for his friends and people he loves? Sausages, sliced up and grilled until touches of black appear on the skins. He chops up a bunch of apples, onions and parsnips, cooks them all together and tops it with the grilled sausage. His sausages are perfect. They’re always seasoned well, cooked to retain their juices and he knows exactly how to get the proper amount of char on them.

Sera makes a mean breakfast, but don’t tell anyone. She’ll wake you up from her sofa, handing you a plate of pancakes that are somehow thick and light. She got some good syrup, and she ain’t telling you where its from. There’s too much butter on top. It’s wonderful.

Dorian teaches himself to cook, quickly tiring of burnt and underdone foods. His specialty is oxtail stew, a manly, hearty dish. He adds a variety of spicy Tevinter peppers, tiny ones the size of berries, large red ones that are mostly sweet and round orange ones that pack a lot of heat. Tomatoes and carrots and a fistful of fragrant herbs rounds it off. If you’re really special, he’ll shave curls of hard white cheese on top.

Cole doesn’t eat, and he can’t quite grok cooking. But he knows what people like to eat, what satisfies them when they need it. For some people that’s a thick slab of bread and butter, for others it’s stew and a bit of rice. But he has a bit of talent for finding ripe fruit, of picking the best plums, the sweetest apples. That’s his. He might bring you your mother’s curry, but he’ll put a soft and sweet peach on the side.

Varric laughs his ass off in the kitchen, an apron protecting his lush chest hair from the bits of flour that might land in it. He makes up a sticky wet yeast dough, stretches it thin and tops it with oil, salt, tiny fishes from the harbor, salty olives and sweet, thick slices of tomato. He roasts it hot, tossing it on the table for everyone to eat with their hands.

Solas doesn’t eat much, but he has an eye for refined foods. If you come to sit with him at night, he’ll present a plate of things to snack on. Deep fried wood grubs, pickles and olives, rich creamy cheeses, sharp bitter cheeses, paper thin crisps that exist as vehicles for the above. He has a private stash of berry wines that are thick and sweet, but they somehow go with all this salty and rich food, and he happy to share it with you.

Cassandra has no small skill in the kitchen, though she tends to curse a lot as she works, overreacting to fire that’s too hot or forgetting something in the oven for a minute too long. She stews up a Nevarran classic, spareribs in sauerkraut. Her mother showed her when she was very young to add whole caraway seeds, allspice berries and wedges of under ripe pear. She thunks it onto the table, telling you it’s nothing special. You both have second helpings.

Cullen makes a roast chicken. He roasts potatoes in butter and salt and serves the two together. The chicken is lean and slightly tough, but it’s roasted properly, golden crispy skin and sweet meat, just as it should be. He tells you later that he’ll cook something more suitable next time, more fitting your station, and you don’t know what that means. Next time, it’s the same chicken. And it was just as wonderful as the first.

The Iron Bull loves sweets and desserts and would happily serve you Par Vollen banana cake for dinner, but instead he cooks up a curry. It’s got large chunks of hard dry squash in it that suck up the spiced sauce. Cardamom, green peppercorns, coriander seeds and stems and roots, garlic and pungent fermented fish go in first. He fries them until the smell is in everything. He adds duck, chopped in irregular pieces, bones and all. Over it all he pours a thin broth, letting the whole thing simmer until thick and pungent. The squash goes in last, and then when it’s just about ready, he adds fresh herbs. It’s complex, spicy, makes your eyes water and leaves you wanting more.

Leliana knows how to make people talk and it doesn’t always involve a dagger to the neck. Sometimes all it takes is fried artichokes, dry Orlesian white wine, a plate of extremely fresh raw beef sliced paper thin, and some very expensive pate. Salt makes you thirsty, wine gets you tipsy, and before you know it, she’s got what she needs. Of course, often times what she needs is to share a fine meal with a friend, but that’s between us.

Dagna makes a beef soup that’s so spicy it’ll make you sweat and your eyes water. She laughs as the two of you blow your noses and cough. The beef is shredded in an oily red broth, lots of long thin deep mushrooms on top.  More for texture than anything, really. She cooks up a pot of rice to go with it, and serves it with pickles. You ask if this is Dwarven cuisine and she giggles a lot, but doesn’t actually answer your question. When the soup is gone, she takes the rest of the rice, dumps it in the bowl and pours hot tea over it. You’re full, but you drink it down anyway. It is delicious.

Harding loved cooking with her mother when she was growing up and compares everything she makes to her mother’s food. You’ve never had her mother’s food so it doesn’t mean anything to you. Her favorite thing to make is corned beef and cabbage. She cures the meat herself, not trusting anyone to do it properly, then simmers it for hours and hours. The cabbage goes in the water, and she pulls it out while it still has some texture to it. Carrots and potatoes, of course. She always cooks for a crowd, inviting others to join if there’s too much. Corned beef night becomes a monthly event, one everyone looks forward to.

Vivienne would like you to know that of course she can cook. The Free Marches are not known for their cuisine, but Orlais is. Madame de Fer found Orlesian specialties somewhat lacking in spirit and so she puts her own twist on them. Her masterpiece is mussels. She cooks them with spicy Antivan cured sausage and a generous portion of white wine. The mussels are pulled out of the pan and laid out on a platter. She brings the fire up with one hand, boiling the liquid rapidly and finishing with a lump of the finest butter. She pours the sauce over the mussels and serves with crackling crisp bread. She eats everything with her hands, and when you make a comment, she tells you only a fool uses a tool when what you’re born with will do the job better.

Krem isn’t much for kitchen work. But one night on the road, he catches a number of fish, and it brings up a memory of a rundown little inn in the Tevinter countryside. He still has a jar of salted lemons, sour and flavorful. He smears the lemon over the fish, wrapping it in leaves and roasting it over the fire. Potatoes, can’t forget the potatoes. Those he slices thin, along with some onions, salt and pepper. They get a wrapping of thick leaves and roasted next to the fish. Sour and salt, and fresh and brine and rich and buttery. Everything tastes better when you’re hungry, but really, Krem knows what he’s doing.