frozen ravioli


Made this cartoon about some crazy b :>

anonymous asked:

How do you cook for yourself when you are depressed? I don't have the $$ to do takeout as often as my depression makes me want to, lol. Do you have any simple go-to recipes that are still healthy? I always end up just eating frozen ravioli for a week :(

ha well, I had a day like this today, when I couldn’t really function and at all, we have a fridge full of food that needs to be cooked (not simple dishes) and I just made my gf go downstairs and get takeout (we live above a chinese place) so, yeah. 

but I get the takeout thing! there are many times when I can’t make myself cook but don’t have the money for takeout, so what do you do?


 If you’re not allergic, always always always have peanut butter (or another nut butter) on hand to make PB&Js, or just PB sandwiches (or PB - banana). It’s easy, it’s cheap, and if you buy PB you always have it on hand and it’s the most low effort food that still have some nutritional value (protein)

broth!!!!! stock up on chicken or veggie broth. it’s nice if you have some veggies on hand as well, like onions or mushrooms or carrots but you can drink broth with just some seasoning! I recommend low sodium broth (usually <$1.00) and I like to put chopped carrots and onions, or mushrooms and scallions. so easy, and it’s good for you + it’s comforting. Fresh veggies are obv better but if that’s too much effort (which is okay!), then also maybe stock up on frozen carrot slices or s/t. You can put noodles in it too if you want!

rice is another thing that you should just stock up on, it’s pretty low effort and you can do just about anything to it. again, with the frozen veggies like broccoli or whatever, you can make a pretty good, filling meal with very low effort.  

for just slightly more effort, in that you might not just have these ingredients, I recommend shakshuka!!!! it’s the most comforting food and it is so easy to make. I use canned diced tomatoes and season it myself but for a low effort depression meal, you can totally use canned tomato sauce that’s already made. then just heat it in a pan, make little divots for the eggs and cook em up! you can also add canned chickpeas. 

I would also say that if you feel yourself falling into a slump and you have the chance/foresight, make a big pot/dish of something to eat throughout the week. I recommend this broccoli and cheese casserole, which you can freeze & eat whenever, or I can get you my gf’s chicken soup recipe because it can fix almost any problem tbh

Basically the best thing to do is stock up on these cheap pantry items so you don’t have to worry about it when the time comes! hope you’re doing okay, love <3

I guess grad school is being so excited to finally get home at 11:30pm after your 12-hour workday only to leave work and find that your bike tire is busted meaning you have to take 45 minutes and walk home to eat your incredibly late meal of frozen ravioli and a PB&J on tortillas because you don’t have any bread or any clean dishes with which to make better food and it’s already almost midnight so cooking would just feel wrong anyway and then you just spend your time eating and thinking about how all of your shifts take you to 11pm next week meaning you don’t get to go to sleep for your 8:30am work shifts until at least midnight and so on and so on and so on forever.


Title: Believer

Pairing: None really

Word Count: 2,029

Theme Songs: Be Here Now by Ray LaMontagne

**Imagine the reader, a believer in angels, still being shocked when she meets Cas face-to-face**

Your name: submit What is this?


Checking your reflection in your rear view mirror you gave a sigh at your tired eyes. It had been another long shift at work, having started with the early shift and made longer when you’d volunteered to stay a few hours over to cover a co-worker who had to go pick up their sick kid from school. But the day was over; you had the next two days off and you had some big plans for your forty-eight hour reverie. 

Keep reading


A crash course in making ravioli

Last week I was telling a good friend how much I was enjoying my new Kitchenaid pasta roller and cutter attachments. I went on and on about the fun I had had, and how much we loved the delicate, eggy noodles. I mentioned that I had ordered a ravioli maker and was looking forward to using it. I could see a light bulb go off in her head. She asked me excitedly if I would help her make enough homemade, fresh ravioli for twenty people. Gulp. I agreed hesitantly, even though I had used my new pasta machine exactly once, and had never tried out the ravioli maker that was still on its way.

It wasn’t until I got home and did some reading that I knew how big of a job this might be. According to some, a good rule of thumb is to count on ten ravioli per person. Whoa – I realized I needed to get good at this task quickly, because we were looking at making two hundred of these little cheese-stuffed packages.

On Saturday, I had turned our little kitchen into a test kitchen. I had four willing helpers standing by, ready to figure out how to make ravioli. Three batches of pasta dough were resting on the countertop. Sheet pans, a rotary pasta cutter, spoons, scoops, a double-batch of cheese filling, a cutting board, the never-before-used ravioli maker, a flour shaker, and a rolling pin were in line, ready for action.

I had to keep in mind that learning the craft (how thin to roll the pasta, how to maintain a uniform width, and how to use the ravioli form so that the pasta doesn’t stick to it) was only half of the task. I also had to take careful notes regarding:

  • How many ravioli could we get out of one batch of dough?
  • One batch of filling (two pounds whole milk ricotta cheese, 2 eggs, a handful of grated Parmesan cheese, a handful of grated Parmesan, and a half bunch of chopped parsley) fills how many ravioli?

There were other questions, too, such as, how long should the finished ravioli air-dry before they go in the freezer? How many of these ravioli, once frozen, actually fit in our freezer?

After a couple of hours, we got very good at this, and most of our questions were answered. I finally felt I could face the real task ahead, which is to create two hundred, perfect, tasty ravioli for my friend. An added bonus to the day was that one friend who got involved, loved the task. He’s a tool guy and a perfectionist, and in the end, he taught me more than I taught him.

I thought I was ready until I got a call this morning – the number of guests has gone up. Stay tuned.

anonymous asked:

If you're ever out of pasta sauce you can brown butter in a pan (same pan you made the pasta in for less dishes to wash) on medium-low heat until it's caramel colored, then toss the pasta and sprinkle your favorite cheese on top, salt, pepper and cover on low heat until the cheese melts. This works really well with frozen ravioli too.

Quick ravioli lasagna

My husband loves lasagna but buying the ingredients separately can get REALLY expensive and making it is messy, this is WAY cheaper, easier and a nice option for a birthday or when company is coming and you want to make something foolproof but a bit fancier than your day to day meals.

Small casserole dish, brownie pan, whatever you got that is small, square-ish, and won’t melt in the oven

1 bag of FROZEN ravioli (I get cheese because it’s cheaper but if you want the meat ones, go for it! I don’t know about the canned ones, I’ve never used them to make lasagna but please try it and let me know!)

1 box of frozen spinach 

1 jar your choice pasta sauce

extra cheese to your budget and liking (great place to use all those parmesan packets that come with Papa John’s pizza) 

Thaw the ravioli and spinach (I just leave the packages in my sink while I’m at work)

Heat oven to 350

Starting with a thin layer of the sauce, layer your ingredients in the baking dish, go like halfway up the pan, maybe a little more, you don’t want it to bubble over. Finish with sauce on top and then sprinkle with your extra cheese if you have some (Mozzarella is awesome if you can swing it)

Bake until bubbly and the middle is hot (I stick a knife in the middle for a couple sec.s and then touch it, not the best idea but that’s all I got) like 30 minutes or something.

Super Duper Sexy

“Cut it,” Dean ordered in his sergeant general voice. Who the hell was he? Like you actually had to listen to the things he said. He wasn’t your father.

“No,” you answered simply putting your feet up on the dash. He smacked you, with the flat side of the of his knife, on your thigh.

“Get your damned feet down!” He demanded, “and get in the back. You do realize if Sam wasn’t there that thing would have mounted your head above its fireplace.”

“I don’t think big foot has a fireplace,” you said taking your long ponytail in your hands and studying the ends.

“Y/N…it is a hazard,"Sam agreed.

"Oh c'mon, I thought you’d back me up on this!” You complained, Sam was your long hair homie. He was betraying you.

“I know but, really how’s your neck?” He asked nothing but genuine worry in his voice. You huffed out a long sigh that turned into a high pitched whine. There was a reason your hair was long, it was stupid and sentimental, and you really didn’t feel like getting into your tragic backstory.

“I’m fine…I’ll just…I’ll pin it up,” you suggested, twisting your hair up and coiling it in a bun. You secured it with the bobby pins you kept in Dean’s glove compartment. Dean sighed, and grabbed the large bun easily, giving it a hard tug.

“Cut. It. Or I will cut it myself,” he said again.

“Or, or, I’ll just go. I’ve hunted on my own before,” you pointed out. Granted, your hair had gotten you into a few less than stellar predicaments, but you always got yourself out…obviously.

“It’s just hair,” Dean groaned.

“To you, yes. But my hair…it’s mine and this is the one time it has ever made me need your help.”

“And it’s one time too many. Y/N this for your own good,” he insisted. You shook your head, crossing your arms indignantly. There was no way you we’re cutting your hair, period. Dean couldn’t begin to understand what a girl’s hair meant to her. The ride home was quiet and tense. You glared out the window with the type of sadness that belonged in an angsty music video. You made a promise to never cut your hair. Yeah, it seemed like eternities ago, but it still meant the world to you. Long hair was a hassle with all its knots and the maintanence. You probably would have cut it years ago, but your mom had been in love with your long hair, said you reminded her of Rapunzel. You promised you’d never cut it, because it always made her smile.

Dinner was sort of an every man for himself deal tonight. You didn’t want to do anything elaborate so you put a few frozen, toasted ravioli in the microwave. While you waited you bounced to the personal playlist playing in your head. All of a sudden your head yanked back and a firm snip sounded.

“Dean no!” Sam all but yelled looking up from the salad he was half heartedly stabbing at. He covered his mouth as it fell open. Your hand went to the back of your head quickly, finding a pathetic stub where your thick ponytail had been. To say you were incredulous was an understatement, it was blatant disrespect to your wishes and personal space. You turned and slapped Dean hard across the face. Your angry hand left red marks sure to bruise on his face.

“You piece of shit!” You yelled and stormed off into the bathroom.

“Dean!” Sam yelled beyond words in the outrage he felt for you.

“Shut up or you’re next,” Dean threatened throwing your hair away.

Sam scoffed and got up in search of you. Dean massaged the pain out of the place your hand struck. He began to think maybe he went too far. You stared at the jagged hair left behind, hanging at your cheekbones. The only thing you could see was just how hideous it made you look. You sobbed hard enough to start earthquakes, with tears big enough to be tsunamis. Sam knocked on the door.

“Y/N, god, I’m so sorry. If I had know he was serious-” he cut off not knowing what to say.

“Go away!” You screamed at him as you sat on the cold bathroom floor crying. The one thing you had to hold on to that reminded you of your mother was gone. Your hands groped at the left over hair in unparalled anguish. Who could he?

Long after Sam finally left the door and went to sleep. You left the bathroom and went to the kitchen trash can, fishing out your cut away ponytail. It sat in all its splender on the very top of the trash. You took it and put it in a little keepsake box under your bed. After that you wiped your eyes and slipped on some shoes.

“Where’s Y/N?” Sam asked the next morning.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged, sporting a dark bruise from your harsh hand.

“Holy crap. She really-”

“Shut up.” Dean cut off.

“Oh no. She got in a really good hit. That’s gonna hurt for a few weeks. Dude,” Sam said, really wanting to rub it in after what he did to you, “ooo she even scratched you a bit. That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Shut up no it won’t,” Dean said touching his injured cheek the cussing as the pressure made his nerve endings scream awake.

You slipped into the bunker, trying to quiet but the door was so frikin loud, it made your life very hard. The moment the door closed you knew you were found out. The air stirred by the door kissed the back of your bare neck making the hairs there prickle. You ran a nervous hand through your hair playing with it in your make up mirror. The stylist worked with the assymetrical cut leaving your bangs long and layered. The sight of your short hair made you pout and whine. You were trying very hard to get over it but dammit you missed your hair. Dean was right though, it could get you killed and it was just hair…but still.

“Y/N, where’d you-…whoa,” Sam called as he came within view of you. You covered your head with your hands.

“I knoooow it looks terrible.” You whined gripping your short hair at the roots.

“No, no! It’s gorgeous. I mean your hair was pretty before but now…”

“You’re just saying that so I don’t murder your brother you grumbled. Dean was dangling by a single chord, he may or may not find Nair mixed into his shampoo very soon.

"No, by all means do. Your hair is really…wow,” he smiled as you came down the stairs to stand in front of him, “it’s kind of bad ass.” He gave you a wide smile as your face heated up.

“Shut up,” you looked away from him smiling bashfully.

“Is miss dramatic back?” Dean asked and your smile turned into a severe scowl.

“Go fuck yourself, Dean,” you growled at him clenching your hands into fists.

“It’d be better if you-” he began but stopped as you came into view, “holy crap.” He gasped.

“It’s your fault it’s like this you asshole,” you yelled at him.

“Good your hair is awesome like that,” he complimented.

“I miss my hair,” you pouted, “you never take anyone’s feelings into consideration, you just do stuff and expect us all to deal with it. My hair meant a lot to me.”

“It’s hair!” Dean groaned.

“It’s a memory! It’s every morning my mom running a comb through it! It’s chemotherapy taking her hair away! It’s her telling me to cherish my hair, that I was beautiful!” You yelled at him. Sam wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from lunging at Dean. Instead of fighting against Sam you hid your face in his chest, not wanting Dean to see you cry.

“Y/N, I didn’t know-”

“You didn’t ask! You just do things because you can, because what you say goes! I hate you and I hate this haircut!” You screamed pushing away from Sam and storming past Dean, purposefully hitting him hard with your shoulder.

“You’re a dick,” Sam informed, glaring at his brother.

“Yeah I know,” Dean agreed miserabley. Sam went after you stopping at the bathroom where he heard crying.

“C'mon, Y/N, open up,” he pleaded, knocking on the door. You opened the door, frowning as you let him in, “hey, it’s gonna be alright. It’ll grow back,” he complimented.

“That’s easy for you to say, you still have your hair,” you grumbled.

“Well you look great. Super sexy,” he smiled, “super duper sexy.”

“Yeah?” You touched you freshly cut hair.

“Yeah,” he kissed your cheek and you were on fire…so you had a bit of a crush on the moose.

“I dunno,” you maintained your pout and he placed a thousand kisses on the underside of your jaw making you laugh like a school girl.

“Do you know now?” He asked with a taunting smile.

“Nope,” you dared, wondering what would come next. Sam moved closer to you looking down at his lips and gaging how he was received. You eagerly moved closer and he took that as a go ahead as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t the short peck you were mentally prepared for, it was hard and hungry, nipping at your lips. His hands combed through your hair as if they liked being there. You opened your mouth, giving into his demanding teeth, breathing in his out breath.

“Whoa,” you breathed out when he let you go.

“Still not convinced.”

“Super duper sexy huh?” You asked.

“Super duper sexy.” He agreed.