Jam heart biscuits recipeJam heart biscuits recipe7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
JAM HEART BISCUITS:
250g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup icing sugar, sifted
1 tsp vanilla extract
3¼ cups plain flour
1/3 cup cornflour
½ cup raspberry or strawberry jam
2 tbs icing sugar, extra
Using an electric mixer, beat butter, icing sugar and vanilla in a large bowl until pale and creamy. Add egg and beat until well combined. Sift flour and cornflour together over butter mixture and stir in until dough comes together. Divide dough in half and flatten to make 2 discs. Wrap in baking paper and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to 160°C. Line 2 large baking trays with baking paper. Roll out 1 dough disc until 4mm thick. Using a fluted 6cm round biscuit cutter, cut out 20 rounds. Using a small heart-shaped biscuit cutter, cut out a heart from the centre of each biscuit. Place onto a prepared tray. Roll out remaining dough and cut out 20 round biscuits. Place onto other tray. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until pale golden and f
The Dinner Hour"We need a refill on salt shakers at table two, a fresh ketchup bottle on tables three, four, and six, and for god's sake, see if we've got a spare pacifier for the kid at table five." Marcheline's lawyer-like voice rattles off instructions faster than anyone can understand them. Taking over her shift is like diving headfirst into an ocean current traveling at a million miles an hour.The Dinner Hour4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I nod after every ten or so words; after sounding off eight commands in under a breath, Marcheline gasps, "Thank god you always show up for your shift on time." Then she flings off her waiter belt like it was on fire and throws it on the rung. I watch her dash out of the back room like she's being chased.
Poor Marcheline doesn't always do well with the evening rush hours, when anything can happen.
Already in my uniform, I make sure of three final things before I step out into the fray that is Elliot's Diner at 6 PM: 1) my nametag is straight and my name tag, because once I grabbed Pedro's nametag a
How to make Muffin-Tin PiesHow to make Muffin-Tin Pies3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
This is a really fun recipe I use for the Holidays and parties! ^-^
The steps listed below will make approximately one/one-and-a-half batches of twelve mini mixed-berry pies. Just use a regular muffin tin, and you can use paper muffin cups if you like, but if you don't I recommend spraying the ENTIRE muffin tin (not just the cups) before putting in the dough to help them come out easier.
The Oven will need to be pre-heated to 350 degrees before the pies can go in the oven.
2 1/2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons of salt
1/2 cup shortening (I generally use Crisco)
3/4 cup butter (chilled)
6 Tablespoons of ice water
Making the dough:
1.) Cut up butter into medium-sized cubes and return it to the refrigerator for later use.
2.) Cut up the shortening and drop in chunks into a bowl of ice water.
3.) In a separate bowl (large), combine flour, sugar and salt and then mix well.
3.) After they are chilled, remove the shortening from ice water, the but
Gus Number FiveGus Number FiveGus Number Five3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Jenna and Cindy filled their mouths with watermelon seeds, spitting them fast and hard until the air swarmed with seeds like shiny black dive-bombing gnats. “My seeds are winning,” twelve year old Cin yelled, her thin body tense and urgent with victory.
Jenna just kept spitting seeds. Eight years old, she already knew the seeds that flew the farthest would be Cin's no matter what.
Jenna puckered her mouth preparing for another losing bombardment. Suddenly she paused, lips plump and pouting as the mouth of a painted candy box cupid. Spitting the seeds into her palm, she stared at them for a moment, chewing the end of her pigtail. Then anxious with inspiration, she trotted into the house and minutes later reappeared hugging a fishbowl.
Carefully placing the bowl on the steps, she solemnly stared at the rattled goldfish who darted and wiggled his copper penny of a body. But when Jenna scattered her handful of watermelon seeds into the water, the goldfish paused
Resolution Diary2007Resolution Diary3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Make first million after starting own business.
Applied for a loan. Declined due to excessive account activity. Note: Constant purchasing of rare (albeit mint) wicker chairs is not conducive to bank balance. Wife insistent on selling wicker chairs to find money to start business.
Bought new donut recipe book. Learnt how to make category hard donut, 'Diamond Swizzler'. Delma loves them.
James offered to lend the money if he can become a business partner. Potential.
First million still a long way off. Wife still nagging.
Spent savings on replacing the roof of the conservatory when neighbor's tree uprooted in the November storm.
Update: Dogs should never be fed over two donuts a day. Next Year's Resolution likely…? Find enough money to take Delma to the vets. And make more realistic resolution idea.
Find an appropriate business idea.
Mac and Cheese RecipeMac and Cheese Recipe5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Yield: 4 servings
Noodles (any type, enough to feed everyone)
1 cup of grated cheese (any kind)
½ cup of bread crumbs
½ cup of flour
1 cup of milk
½ cup of butter
½ cup of finely chopped onions
1.Start boiling the water
2.Add the bread crumbs and flour to the grated cheese and mix together
(the flour and bread crumbs add texture and help to stop the
cheese from clumping)
3.While the water is bowling melt the ½ cup of butter in a pot.
4.Once the butter has melted add the finely chopped onions, fry until
the onions turn clear.
5.Add the milk to the fried onions and butter.
6.Add the n
A Night at Pinetop's TavernSomewhere in the back alleys of the city's older section there was a crumbling brick building that had been around since before ragtime music was popular. Hanging above a faded green door that led down to the building's cellar was a wooden sign, and despite the peeling paint, you could still make out the bar's name: Pinetop's Tavern. Nobody really knew when Pinetop's first opened; local folks would tell you it had been there since time began, and the world had grown up around it. It was one of those places where the lighting was always dim and the cigarette smoke never dissipated and the cloud you were breathing now had probably been around since W. C. Handy was still alive.A Night at Pinetop's Tavern3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Pinetop's Tavern was a blues joint, and it had been around almost as long as blues music itself. Blues music was a lot simpler than most kinds of musicsimpler chords, simpler lyrics, and most blues musicians couldn't read sheet music. The genre was born on some unknown plantation in the forgotten Deep
Becoming MatureMaturity: I realized popularity was stupid.Becoming Mature4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They Say It's HauntedHe's close behind me. "John?"They Say It's Haunted5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Portrait de MoiShe dreamed; she tried; she failed.Portrait de Moi5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Sea-Salt Ice Cream RecipeSea-Salt Ice Cream Recipe4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sea-Salt Ice Cream
Wire whisk or fork
Medium sized saucepan
Medium sized bowl
1 cup measure
1 teaspoon measure
Ice-cream maker or ice-pop molds or a cooler of liquid nitrogen (optional)
1 heart (optional get it)
1 cup milk
1 cup sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
blue and green food coloring (optional)
1. Re-arrange the letters of your name and add an X somewhere.
2. Crack 2 eggs into the bowl and whisk well for a few minutes. A wire whisk works best but a fork can do in a pinch.
3. Add the cup of sugar into the eggs and continue to whisk well until creamy.
4. Heat the milk in the saucepan over medium heat until warmish hot while constantly stirring with the wooden spoon (do not use a metal spoon it will scratch your pot and make the milk burn easier). The milk should be right before boiling, but do not
A Letter to a FriendDear friend,A Letter to a Friend3 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
How does it go?
It's been awhile since we've spoke,
So I think you should know,
I'm doing much better since we've parted ways,
I'm happy and healthy,
Like a seedling after it's felt the sun's rays.
That longing I felt has finally passed,
The very same feeling from which so much hurt had amassed.
Now that I am free from that pain,
My mind is fresh and clear;
Like the air, after a summer rain.
Though I miss the laughs we shared,
I can't help but focus on all the times tempers had flared,
Splits can be mended and cracks can be filled,
But it doesn't make up for all the tears that were spilled.
Though we are both equally to blame,
Because my desire, and your omission,
Is what set our bond aflame,
Making us both at fault for our friendship's attrition.
We both caused that horrid ordeal,
At least, that's how I used to feel,
But after looking back I realized,
I was much more to blame than I previously surmised.
I pined after something that I could never attain,
The BoyOnce upon,The Boy8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
so back in time,
I met a boy
so fun, so bright
He made me laugh,
he span me round
We got on well
Oh dear! What a sound!
But he was gone
No feelings hurt,
was just a flirt
All was well,
friends we still were
But gods were watching
so cruel, so naughty
the boy I met once again
this time to be more than flirt
He was happy
and so was I,
such a joy
hard to come by
He whispered softly,
made me dream
And what a dream,
it was to be
He made me hope
and long and care
as long as it lasted
Oh gods! I dare!
But gods were cruel
and he was gone
No time to spare,
I was a heft,
the hope crashed,
the dream; it burned
This time it hurt,
no more a flirt,
the darkness came
and tears; such shame
I saw him again,
in the arms of another
Words cannot tell
how I recovered
Years went by,
the boy was gone
But gods were watching,
we couldn't move on
A present they gave
to our hearts both
our paths crossed
our fates; one oath
once again the boy I met
he had grown; now a man
this time he's different
Under DreadThe winter, the whole winterUnder Dread4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is sitting on my head, nesting its fingers
in the little hairs over my ears.
Its friend, the great and unnamed doubt,
is leaning against my collarbone
in a most familiar fashion,
and I fall in and out of balance
I have a beauty waiting, warm, willing
on speed dial, but the phone--
where did I leave the phone again?
Beauty is as elusive as
the car keys, which, I swear,
were just in that pocket. I
had my hand on them. The whole winter
keeps coursing its little nails
up and down my neck and taking
all my breath away.
There was a dream I had that
I almost remember, almost remember better
than living yesterday, a dream
of gooey loss, a taffy sorrow that loomed,
loomed, loomed, you see? It was so real,
I just had it.
Escape VelocityF = G(m1m2)/r2Escape Velocity3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Black – true black – is the absence of light. Darkness is defined by what it is not, by the lack of something else. When we say a black hole, we truly mean that; black. Blacker than black. An absence of not only light, but of time, distance, anything.
The night was scary when I was little. I hated the dark, but couldn’t bear to sleep so long as the light was on, any light, burning on the other side of my eyelids. I used to have nightmares about dark things in dark corners, shadowy figures with shadowy fingers trailing along my spine. I always woke up cold and fumbling frantically for the lamp, but the aura of light just made the shadows deeper and I turned it off quickly.
Black holes are dead stars. Graves. Tombs that bury light, bury it so deep, swallow entire suns, planets, galaxies. Dead stars take all the light with them like rich men spending fortunes on alabaster monuments and marble headstones.
There are four unmarked graves
Fresh Start ch10Fresh Start ch104 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I was frozen. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I stared at the boy who seemed to be in the same state I was in. He had the same soft green hair and dark green eyes I remembered, except his hair was shorter. He was the first to snap out of the shock. Gumo glared at me darkly.
"What are YOU doing here?!" he demanded.
I bit my lip. There were over thousands of things I could say but my voice still wasn't working yet. Gumi glanced from me to Gumo and raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something but Gumo cut her off with another outburst.
"Why are you here!? I haven't done anything wrong have I? Counsel gonna chop off my head for 6 years ago now too?! Do I really need more suffering?!?" Now everyone looked surprised and confused. Couldn't blame them. Beheading went out of style like 500 years ago in the human world.
"HOLD UP! Gumo w
Elf vs. Orc 9Sings-to-Trees' head shot up. He knew Fleabane's barks like the back of his hand. Short, rapid barks, not grating, hysterical ones--somewhere between a greeting and a warning. Fleabane knew the person approaching, but he didn't really like them.Elf vs. Orc 99 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
That meant it was either one of the humans from down the road (excepting Matilda, who brought cheeses and always had a tidbit for a hungry coyote) or the rangers.
"Shit!" Sings-to-Trees leapt to his feet and began kicking Celadon's armor under the bed, followed by the extra blankets.
Celadon got unsteadily to her feet. "What is it?"
"Company. Might be rangers."
She could have asked questions, like "Are you going to turn me in?" or "Why are you panicking, if they're your people?" but Celadon was not inclined to waste time on stupid questions. She looked around hurriedly for a hiding place.
Sings-to-Trees caught her elbow. "Do you trust me?"
"Does it matter?"
"I suppose not."
Getting her into the hiding place was awkward, but Celadon took it in s
Elf vs. Orc 7This was easier said than done.Elf vs. Orc 79 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She gave him some very practical suggestions about how to tie the ropes. A bit of slack between the feet, enough to shuffle, not enough to run. A rope around the neck as a kind of leash in case she attacked him. He could tell she'd done this sort of thing before.
Sings-to-Trees, at that point, would have been happy just untying her completely and pointing her in the direction of the outhouse, but he had a horrible feeling he'd disappoint her if he didn't at least try to hold up his end. So he steeled himself to stay awake a bit longer and got the ropes set up, and hauled her out of the bed.
Then she wound up needing to use him as a crutch anyway, since her knees kept buckling, so it was a bit of a moot point.
"Can you hold this?" he asked, handing her the leash rope after a few brutal hops toward the door.
"What if I try to escape?"
He sighed. "Just yank it if you feel yourself getting any ideas."
She started laughing, then they took another step and the
Elf vs. Orc 6He got a nasty start a few hours later, when he came in to check on her.Elf vs. Orc 69 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
He'd tied her hands, her feet, thrown a loop or two around her waist, and roped everything to the bed, the chair, and the fire iron, just for good measure, He'd done everything short of hog-tying. She wasn't going to get loose in a hurry.
He wasn't sure why he was bothering, really, since he had a horrible feeling that if she said "Will you untie me?" he might do it, and if she said "please," he'd definitely do it.
Still, she didn't seem to be a threat conscious, so maybe that was okay.
Then, because his feelings were still churning and there was nothing for emotional turmoil like hard work, he'd gone off, fed the chickens and the gargoyle, picked peas, turned the compost heap, washed his hands and made soup. By the end, he was really quite exhausted, and ready for at least a nap in his chair.
Then he came back in to discover that her fever had vanished and she was shivering violently with cold.
Recipe: Lightning Chocolate CakeRecipe: Lightning Chocolate Cake3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
'Ey, nice ta see yew folks again! This time I got one'uh my pers'nal fav'rites for ya: th' fastest dang chocolate cake yew ever made from scratch! Well, I mean, it takes a while ta bake an' all, but it only takes 'bout ten minutes ta throw t'gether.
Preheat yer oven ta 375 degrees. Fahrenheit a'course.
You will need:
~3 cups flour, sifted
~2 cups sugar
~2 teaspoons baking soda
~2/3 cup cocoa powder, not th' Dutch kind, th' regular.
~5/8 cup corn oil... What kinda measurement is that? Call it half a cup.
~1 tablespoon cider vinegar, or white vinegar if ya don't have th' cider kind.
~1 tablespoon vanilla extract
~2 cups medium-strong coffee, caffeinated or not
~Yew c'n add stuff like chocolate chips, nuts, fruit or whatever ya want!
Okay, seriously, all ya gotta do is sift th' dry stuff t'gether, mix in th' liquids an' pour it inta a greased bakin' dish. This'n fills an 8x12" pan. Then ya chuck it in th' oven fer 35-40 minutes. Yew c'n tell it's done if ya stick a skewer in it an' it com
His Butler, ExposedHis Butler, Exposed4 years ago in Drama More Like This
Finally, after week and weeks of waiting and months of recovering the Phantomhive household seemed to be back to normal. Well, as normal as normal could be. The maid scurried about knocking over dishes and cleaning up her mess, the cook was busy perfecting his flam thrower techniques, the gardener contently snipping away at the trees and the butler by his master's side as he should be.
Ciel scribbles his name on yet another black line, completing the latest transaction with a supplier in Asia. He plucks his pen down, enjoying the sound as it hits the desk signifying a day of work finished. The young earl reclines back into his chair shutting his eyes for a brief moment of rest, glad to have earned it. How hectic his life has become in the few months he's encountered the Queen's Spider, Alois Trancy and his double crossing butler, Claude Fastus-a fellow demon like his own butler, Sebastian Michaelis.
Lately everything seemed like it was crumbling beneath his feet, the chessboard that ha
The Door of Our Cottage in the Western NightThey began on the beach, and a fire was raging upon the waters. A fire on one side of the world and one around the other. The earth had been unbruised, like an apple on a string, and then two stones had struck within a month, and everything had burned, slagged by deep space arrows. The wind was terrible. Everywhere was a howl with no direction.The Door of Our Cottage in the Western Night4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There were a few lichen-like communities in damp places, where the sky had steamed by but seared little, lifted ravines and streams from the land, unwrinkled it, dragon braille revealed only in fire. There were a few who had been underground, and a few in the inland seas and lakes, a few in the deeper rivers, a few on the moon, watching it go.
The moon was hit four weeks later, and there were no lunatic survivors.
Once again, we were alone. The world had been smoked and there was a smell of it everywhere, and we walked on the remains of the crater's basin lake. It was involute