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CheffieTina

@cheffietina / cheffietina.tumblr.com

I'm a 25 year old anime lover, misunderstood bad guy stalker, and several other things. I like cooking. Who doesn't like sharp pointy things? What might be here? Writings from my randomness and probably Fanfics of fandoms I will write on my own. Don't be afraid, I won't bite much! I'm also more then happy to take on RPing as long as its in something I know! Don't be afraid to ask! Because Really I like to Roleplay.
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benafflecks

Once you’ve met someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return.

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reblogged

some people have meaningful backstories for their scars. Lanalle, not so much.

This is the most wonderful piece of art I have ever been fortunate enough to view

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merak-zoran

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.

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missanndrist

@commander-cullywully and thanks so much, Jackaroo!

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reblogged

Holiday inspired waffles that taste like gingerbread cookies! But, you won’t need to feel guilty about eating gingerbread for breakfast – they’re loaded with gluten-free teff flour, holiday spices, and then topped with a vegan maple cinnamon drizzle. They also make perfect waffle sticks for dipping. A fun winter breakfast or brunch. Vegan & Gluten Free.

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cheffietina

4 James

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kekecocoa

reblog if the wolf on the right is just as dreadful as the wolf on the left.

i wanted a new icon on my main blog and so i started goofing around. i dont think im going to use either of these tho haha

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