fact or fiction
Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the lesser known truths in the food universe.
Take Out Only
Take Out Only (spicy mild) By: The ADHD Accountant – Krid Years ago, so many years that I can scarce recall (the number of years, not the memories), I was a young student in the final year of my degree. A friend of mine was moving North and had a little side gig. Now Mr. Side Gig was a horrible client who I fired within a year BUT his wife ran a little gig of her own; take-out Thai. As a recent immigrant with poor English and education which didn’t translate to a local accreditation she did what many do – worked even harder with skills that transcend language and local certifications. Mrs. Side Gig started a little restaurant out of her kitchen. Take out only. She would even deliver for free within a few blocks!
ADHD AccountantPublished about a year ago in Feast
Drop the Food Facts
One of my favorite facts that I learned from cooking on Thanksgiving is that vanilla extract is made from the sweat glands of a beaver.
The fat nonsense about carbs, protein, and fiber
There are three misconceptions in this world that drive me crazy: that pizza, bread, potatoes, rice and pasta are "the carbs", that you need to add fiber to your salad, and that animal food equals protein.
Kajosway and The Natural OverflowPublished about a year ago in Feast
Pizza pies and other lies
You are not going to believe what I just found out. The world as I knew it has been reduced to a mire of uncertainty and chaos of matrix like proportion, where nothing is like it seems. My confidence in the predictability of the world around me has been shaken and the very foundation of my existence has been brought into question.
I Yam What I Yam
I blame Bruce. I’m sure this issue is deeper and more complex than just Bruce, but he gets the bulk of my ire. Now I just need to figure out which Bruce.
Kevin Alonzo BratcherPublished about a year ago in FeastMore Of My Favorite Food Hacks
Let’s say you need a little bit of lemon juice. You usually take your lemon and you cut it in half then you use a little bit of lemon juice and then you’ve got all this lemon leftover so you put it in the fridge or something. And then when you come back it looks like this. It’s all rotten and dry and dehydrated and just rancid, you don’t really want to use it anymore and it’s hard and crunchy like this one. There must be a better way to preserve your lemon and still get your juice. Well there is, this is how, you take your lemon and you roll it and then you want to take a sort of pin and just poke in the bottom in the lemon, the exact bottom where the point is here, and then you squeeze and all the lemon juice you want just pours out. Now the great thing is you made a very small little hole in it now so oxygen can’t really get into it and make it rot so it will stay fresher for longer.
Nick DaviesPublished about a year ago in FeastBen & Jerry: How well do you ice cream?
Ice cream, the sweetened frozen dessert, an essential in the summer months, a delicious snack enjoyed by everyone. So many flavors to choose from covered in so many toppings, who can resist?
Anastasia SPublished about a year ago in Feast
Everything every dream
Shaken from my sleep from the sound of the train rattling along the tracks. I woke up to the gaze of a woman and her young daughter sitting across from me. The woman’s eyes nearly peering into my soul. I wasn’t certain but I could only imagine she knew just like I did that I wasn’t supposed to be on this train. Here I was dressed in a black hoodie, jeans, black combat boots covered in dried up mud and pieces of grass. I stood out like a sore thumb.
Ashley turnerPublished about a year ago in FeastShe Just Knew He Could Do It!
Going off to work each day for some people is a chore at best, a hated drudgery at worst. It’s something they don’t want to do, but must, if the bills are to be paid. Debbie, on the other hand, never thought of work as anything less than delightful. She was a stay-at-home housewife and mom for years and had often worked from home doing things she loved to do such as writing, speaking, bookkeeping, sewing, and baking. If a person can have five first-loves, she certainly did. Yet, in the back of her mind, there was always a desire for two more pieces of life that she had not yet experienced. One would be to run a bed and breakfast in a lovely old home, and the other would be to work in a big commercial kitchen.
Debbie YoungPublished about a year ago in Feasta cooks worst dream
The world was Roy's oyster the very day he finally finished his culinary training at the international culinary center in New York city. Bright eyed, bushy tailed, and unstoppable so he thought. After 5 months, 20 lessons, 2 trials, 1 externship, and 3000 miles away from home, Roy quickly realized that he was flat broke. However, that never stopped his tenacious, must learn it all, do whatever it takes, blindly optimistic approach to landing him his dream job at New York city's finest 3 star michelin restaurant Le molé.
Roy nacpilPublished about a year ago in Feast
Dumpster Mustard
Watson came to in the rusty dumpster behind Pal’s lounge with a splitting headache and a sore ankle. He started piecing together how he got there when he noticed his head was covered in dried blood. Must have really irked someone in the bar, he thought, something Watson tended to do after a few pints of Guinness. He felt the small gash above his eye and decided he was fine; the eyebrow area would bleed vociferously from a paper cut. It looked worse than it was. Climbing to his knees he began to take inventory of his surroundings. It was all trash: newspapers, beer cans, a shredded leather barstool seat, exactly what you’d expect to find in a dumpster behind a dive bar. While stumbling to his feet Watson noticed a small plastic container near the corner. It was somehow wedged there so that it wouldn’t come out during any trash pickups. Watson shuffled over and wiggled it free; he fell backwards into the trash heap when he realized what it was.
Kevin Alonzo BratcherPublished about a year ago in Feast
Chocolate covered secret
Just at the foot of Prague's famed "Lover's Hill" lies an inconspicuous little patisserie shop. Or rather, should we say, cukrárna, for that more fully describes its feeling, its smells and its warmth. It's unpretentious and honest. It's one of hundreds in the city. But this one is special. As soon as you walk in, you are greeted with the sweet smell of traditional Czech pastries. These are unlike ones you're likely to encounter anywhere else. They have peculiar names like little coffins or little windmills. Now, imagine yourself sitting there. You lift your foot over the small step that's so insignifcant and unexpected that it earns itself a little handwritten caution sign. You sit at a small table, the feet of which are supported with a bent cardboard beer coaster to prevent any further wobbling and your large window offers you a view of a tram track. Once in a while you will see the number 22 tram pass by. This tram provides unequivocally the most soul quenching tour of the city. You sip your Viennese coffee and nibble on a fresh crepe. This charming house has housed a number of businesses from a soapery to a wine cellar. But perhaps had things turned out a bit differently than they did, this little pastry shop would've gained the kind of global recognition it deserved. Perhaps. You can choose to believe the story that awaits you in the next several parapraphs, or you can choose to close the proverbial arched window shutters, sweep crumbs with the palm of your right hand into your left, leave the cukrárna, hop on the 22 and return to your reality. But I urge you to believe.
Marketa StastnaPublished 2 years ago in Feast
