cooking for solutions


✨ The most kawaii oatmeal in life✨ Blend frozen strawberries with almond or soy milk. Cook and salt your oats. Mix the strawb milk in. Add banana and your favorite sweetener. (I also added cinnamon!) 🍓🍌 The milk also cools the hot oats …it’s so perf! 😍

anonymous asked:

Cooking together gone horribly wrong KuroMahi?!? Pweese

KuroMahi {1: Cooking Together Go Horribly Wrong}

“You know this is going to end horribly, right?” Kuro looked at the arrangement of cookware before him like they were complicated surgical tools. Behind him, Mahiru chuckled as he tied an apron around Kuro’s waist. He was glad that Mahiru couldn’t see how nervous he was. Kuro was many things but a cook wasn’t one of them. “Do I really need to learn?”

“Yes, you do.” Mahiru said simply and Kuro knew that there was no point in further arguing with him. It was easier to give into him than to continue because he knew he couldn’t change his mind. Even though Kuro didn’t argue further, Mahiru added. “What if something happens to me and I can’t cook for you?”

“That won’t happen. I won’t let anyone hurt to you” Despite how he was the Servamp of Sloth, there was little he wouldn’t do to protect Mahiru. There was a conviction in Kuro’s voice that made Mahiru smile. No matter what they went through, he knew he could rely on Kuro but there some scenarios he worried about. Mainly, when it came to Kuro taking care of himself.

“I know you’ll always protect me but there’s not much you can do against the common cold. I don’t want a repeat of last time.” When he became sick last week, Kuro took care of him and asked Lily to make some soup for Mahiru. But Kuro ate nothing but instant noodles that week. When he got better, Mahiru spent a good hour lecturing him about having a healthy diet and Kuro pointed out that he didn’t know how to cook.

So, the simple solution was to teach him but he knew that Kuro would never learn for himself. Mahiru chose his words slyly. “If I get sick again, I’m going to worry about you while I’m in bed. I can’t focus on getting better if I’m worrying about you. At least learn simple things like making an omelette and mixed vegetables that you can have with rice. Please, learn for me, Kuro.”

“Fine. But if I get a battle wound from cooking, you need to kiss it better.” Kuro relented and Mahiru nodded with a bright smile. Even if he was reluctant, the fact that he was willing to learn was more than enough for Mahiru. He placed a hand on his shoulder and stood on his toes to kiss Kuro’s cheek.

“You fight vampires almost daily. I’m sure you can handle a kitchen knife.” Mahiru said confidently and turned back to the kitchen island. He had already taken out everything they needed and he pushed a bowl of eggs in front of Kuro. “Wash your hands and we can get started. Making an omelette is simple. First, we crack two eggs into the mixing bowl. Just be careful to not let any shell pieces fall in.”

Mahiru broke an egg and it looked simple enough to Kuro. He took the delicate egg Mahiru held out to him and, being as careful as he could, he tapped the egg against the bowl to crack it. It broke in his hand and yoke spilled onto his hand. “It’s okay, Kuro, don’t look so disappointed. Just be gentler the next time.”

His voice was calm and patient as he took a towel and wiped the yoke from Kuro’s hand. Feeling Mahiru’s light touch, Kuro couldn’t help but worry more. He never bothered with cooking because he didn’t think it suited someone like him. While Mahiru’s hands were kind and light, his did nothing but fight for the last century. He wanted to give up already but he told Mahiru that he would try.

“Let’s try again. Tap it just enough to crack it so you’ll be able to separate them cleanly.” Mahiru instructed and he saw Kuro look hesitant for a moment. He wrapped his arms around Kuro from behind and took his hand. Kuro knew that Mahiru only had the purest of intentions but his heart still quickened. Mahiru guided his hand and cracked the egg open with him. “See, it wasn’t that hard.”

His breath brushed his neck and Kuro flushed deeply. He accidentally tightened his hand around the egg too much and it broke in his hand. Mahiru frowned and went to wipe his hand again. “What happened Kuro? Breaking a bunch of eggs won’t get you out of learning how to cook so don’t waste them.”

“I’m pretty sure the second egg casualty was your fault.” Kuro mumbled with a blush. Mahiru raised a brow at him but Kuro knew that he couldn’t explain why to him. Sometimes he had to wonder if he knew that effect he had on him but, looking at his kind eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case. Kuro took another egg and quickly changed the topic. “Whatever. I think I can do this now.”

“Okay,” Mahiru moved to stand beside him again and their arms brushed in the small kitchen. The egg slipped from Kuro’s hand and it exploded on the ground. There was a silence until Mahiru groaned. “I’ll get something to wipe it up.”

One after the other, Kuro found a way to crush or break the eggs. Mahiru was beginning to believe that he was cursed but he tried to stay patient. He had to learn how to cook for himself at an early age and he remembered making a lot of mistakes too. But he could tell that Kuro’s problem was more than his inexperience and wondered what was bothering him.

Kuro tried to concentrate of reining in his strength but he couldn’t focus on the egg with Mahiru was standing so close to him. When another egg broke, Mahiru sighed. “Kuro, can you get more eggs from the fridge while I throw away these egg shells?”

“That, I know I can do.” Kuro said and went to take out the carton of eggs. He placed them on the island and he knew that Mahiru would only become more frustrated with him if he continued embarrassing himself. He took one of the eggs and cautiously tried to crack it again. But it broke haphazardly and egg shells ended up in the bowl. “Damn vampire strength. Why can’t I just be gentle?”

He mumbled the words, not intending for anyone to hear him. But Mahiru did and he cupped his face. Firmly, he forced Kuro to look down at him.

“Is that what this about? You’re worrying too much and it’s making you a clumsy fool. I know you’re strong but you never had a problem controlling it. You don’t break the buttons when you’re playing video games.” Kuro still looked doubtful so he took his hand and pressed it against his cheek. “You’ve always been gentle with me. So, I know you can do something as simple as cracking an egg.”

“You have more confidence in me than I do.” Kuro laughed weakly. But he didn’t want to betray the trust in Mahiru’s eyes so he tried again.

A moment of silence for all the egg casualty in this fanfic because Mahiru unintentionally flusters Kuro :P It didn’t end terribly messy but I don’t think Mahiru will let that happen. 

[Send me a number and a pairing and I’ll write a short fic for you]


BioLite BaseCamp Stove

Today’s piece of great news for lovers of outdoor adventures is called BioLite BaseCamp. The advanced off-grid cooking and energy solution especially designed for camping trips, BaseCamp Stove by BioLite allows outdoor enthusiasts to cook their meals and charge electronic gadgets at the same time.

anonymous asked:

what's slytherin smh's relationship with the house-elves like?

(sorry this is from so long ago- I’ve been hella busy!)

Basically, in an effort not to steal too much of Stiles’ plotline from Untamed (my sterek HP AU where the elves play quite a role), I will say that when Bitty first went to sneak into the kitchen for the purpose of baking (because you can take the boy out of the muggle kitchen, but you can’t take the… muggle kitchen out of the boy? That fell apart a little. Just roll with it), the elves are none too happy.

Elves do not approve of wanded magic being used for cooking (it ruins the flavor) but they are not sure they approve of magicless cooking either.

The solution, it seems to Eric R. Bittle, it to challenge them to a Bake-Off.

The Rules are simple: all the contestants make a pie (all being Bitty, a very small Elf named Daisy and a slightly larger elf named Arthur) and then in a blind taste test, the judges will pick their favorite. The judges are: Harley, the head of the kitchen; Professor Longbottom, who always did and still does love sweets; and a 7th year Hufflepuff named Darla Williams who was chosen because she happened to be walking by at the time and all contestant agreed that it would be good to have a non-food expert on the team. If Bitty wins, he can use the Elves’ kitchen whenever he wants. If the Elves win, he must… well, not stay away forever because that would be mean and actually the Elves have grown quite fond of Bitty because he’s Bitty and actually they like all the Slytherins (Stiles remains their favorite student ever) but they will make fun of him and he will probably be limited to certain days or nights. It’s unclear.

REGARDLESS, It is a grueling three hours for our contestants. Bitty makes his famous maple-crusted apple pie (and has to put up with a good deal of chirping from the Elves who aren’t exactly accustomed to using syrup for anything besides breakfast foods), Daisy makes a batch of her chocolate chip oatmeal brownies that she always puts out for homesick First years and Arthur makes very fancy, gold flecked macarons because his name is Arthur and he is fancy and he can. 

To make a very long story and judging process short (seriously, the judging process takes upwards of 2 hours and at this point all the Slytherins have been told what’s going on so imagine Ransom and Holster providing commentary on every bite and facial expression of each judge, to the point where Harley almost flings them out of his kitchen, and Shitty curses so much that Harley does fling him out of his kitchen), Bitty wins! Even Harley admits that this pie is delicious and Bitty should be allowed to use to the kitchen.

A few contests later (pie-specific this time) and some of the Elves even agree that magicless baking might be even better than wandless magic baking. 

(Except for Arthur. Arthur always thinks it’s an abomination. Arthur is a bit of a fuddy-duddy, tbh.)


Instead of having a protracted civil war with the remnants of the Empire and facing warlord after warlord, the Alliance cooks up a better solution: put one of their own on the throne.

Legitimate and legal heir Leia steps up and has to fix the Empire from the inside as the new Empress while fighting the temptations of power and the Dark Side.

On the Decline of Poisoning

(xpost from DW/LJ)

… by which I mean Person A slipping something into Person B’s food or drink; accidents, industrial problems, and medical murders are outside the scope of this essay.  

Classically, poisoning was seen as a woman’s weapon; manly men just stabbed you or whapped you over the head or strangled you, as one does.   Poisoning was sneaky and evil because you didn’t, however briefly, see it  coming.   For 17 years in the 16th century,  poisoning was prosecuted as high treason and earned you death by boiling.  (Presumably without arsenic or other additives.)   Anybody who reads Golden Age murders will be intimately familiar with the varying symptoms of arsenic, strychnine, digitalis, and various substances unknown to science – the last being also outside our scope.

Nowadays you’re much more likely to be shot (in the U.S.) or blunt/pointy/flammable objected (elsewhere) than poisoned.    This makes murder mystery authors sad.  What happened?

  1. Easy divorce
  2. Improved availability of contraception
  3. Physical mobility of the population
  4. Regulation of poisonous substances
  5. The birth of forensic medicine

For much of English and American history, most of the population were stuck wherever they were brought up.  In particular, many people lived in multi-family houses, with the resource-controlling ancestors, descendants, and a passel of babies all stuffed together under one roof.   If you couldn’t stand your mother-in-law, too bad; she was going to be sneering at the dinner table until she passed on, and frankly she was healthier than you were.  If your husband was beating you or just driving you up a tree, too bad; “till death do us part” was pretty much the rule, unless you were male, very very wealthy, and able to buy a divorce.    If you kept having babies you couldn’t feed, abortion was haphazard and depended on knowing the right people/plants.  

All of these problems were most easily solved by murder.  You couldn’t move away; you couldn’t divorce and remarry; you couldn’t stop the babies coming.  (For babies, there was the bonus that you could insure them and collect the money.)  You were stuck with your family.   If female, you were at least supervising and very likely cooking the meals.  The solution was obvious.    The solution was made even more obvious when you consider that most households contained lethal substances for killing flies, rats, and weeds.   You would naturally keep arsenic around to solve these problems, as well as for cosmetic uses.   You got arsenic – or strychnine, or prussic acid, or whatnot – by strolling up to the apothecary and requesting it.   If questioned, you’d just explain that you wanted to get rid of rats; you would prudently not append “Like the one I married”.

Irritant poisons, like arsenic, do nasty things to the digestive system, causing noxious substances to issue from both ends.   However, in a pre-sanitation age, people died of gastrointestinal ailments all the time.  If no doctor is called, or if the doctor isn’t suspicious, there’s no reason to think that the guy who just died was poisoned.  (Strychnine being a quite spectacular exception.)   Even if the servants or the doctor are suspicious, the only way to prove that the food was poisonous is – if somebody saved the food or the fluids – to feed them to an unfortunate animal, usually a dog.  

So, motive, means, and opportunity.   The authorities tried to give the poisonee (or his/her estate) a sporting chance by regulating the sale of certain poisons.  Arsenic had to be colored so that it was easily distinguishable from sugar or salt or whatever; people who bought certain poisons had to register at the place of purchase.   The major change, however, was  the invention of forensic testing; Wikipedia has a nice summary of the progress in detecting arsenic.  (Readers of Dorothy Sayers’s Strong Poison will be  familiar with the Marsh test.)   Detecting arsenic and other inorganic chemical compounds happened fairly early; detection of strychnine, digitalis, and so on required substantial advances in chemistry.  As sanitation moved on, there were far fewer “gastroenteritis” deaths, and so poisonings were less-well camouflaged.   By the mid-19th century, at least in urban areas, poisoning somebody had a higher, if by no means absolute, risk of sending you to the gallows.

And now we come to mobility, divorce, and contraception.   Trains made it far easier for the middle classes to move from one city to another; labor migration to the cities made it easier to move from one house/apartment to another.  Again for the middle classes, the gradual loosening of divorce laws made it much more possible to get away from your horrible spouse.   And contraception  made it possible to prevent a crowded house before rather than after the birth.  Banning the insurance of infants removed a financial incentive. Put all these together, and it’s much harder to write a cozy poisoning in 2015 than in 1925.

I highly, highly recommend Katherine D. Watson’s Poisoned Lives: English Poisoners and Their Victims and Deborah Blum’s The Poisoner’s Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York if you want to know more about the sociology of poison in the United Kingdom and the USA.

You once said you didn’t necessarily like Saul.
Odenkirk: “I like Jimmy. Saul was clearly a front, and I wasn’t sure how much of it he liked. He seemed to enjoy being a showy cheeseball, and now that I know Jimmy, I think he is just a taste-challenged individual — but he’s from Chicago, and I get it, coming from a place where you don’t know what you’re supposed to look like. He’s an earnest, sweet guy whose brain naturally cooks up dishonest solutions to the challenges in front of him. Jimmy stops seeing the blind spots because he’s too happy and excited about his plans, which I think is pretty true of a lot of people, you know. He gets carried away with his inspiration.“
– Bob Odenkirk on ‘Better Call Saul’ and the 'Mr. Show’ Non-Reunion