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Hearthway Hollow Chef Ryker Chapter 2.5

Again, a huge thank you and shout out to @momolady​ for letting me write fanfiction of my own commission. Yes, that’s the real camaro featured in this story with my real daughter and one thing chefs and cooks LOVE to do is share food great food with each other and to have that connection would be amazing. 

Heathway Hollow Chef Ryker 

Ryker left and watching him walk away in wolf form made me smile. I was able to recover from crying long enough that even Del couldn’t tell I had been crying. My parents came and dropped off my car and stayed the night with us, enjoying the cabin and left in the morning.

Once they did, I went back to town and went to Big Billy’s hardware store where Jack was practically drooling from behind the window as I parked out in front of the store. 

“So that’s the camaro.” Jack noted. 

“Yup, that’s the camaro.” I confirmed. 

“So I went to Guillermo’s and met Ryker and um...befriended him, he said that there’s a kids camp going on soon? Is it too late to get Del into that?” I asked hopefully. 

“No not at all,” Jack smiled before he got another form for me to fill out for Del before he revealed that the camp was for the next day so we spent some time shopping and getting Del proper gear then went home to make the best feast I could for Ryker, I had to go back to the butcher shop to get bone marrow though. 

“Hey,” Adam greeted brightly. 

“Hey, I need bone marrow.” I informed him, not seeing the split bones in the meat case, but hoping that they had some anyway. 

“What kind?” Adam asked and I’m taken aback by the fact that they would have more than one kind to offer. 

“Beef and if you have beef femurs I’ll need the shafts halved so I can scoop out the marrow easier.” I tell him. 

“Ok, how much will you need?” Adam asked. 

“Like whole femurs? 2.” I tell him as he nods and then he goes back into the back and relays that information before I hear the bone saw turn on and start whirling as I take my phone out and check my emails and messages and such while I wait. Not seeing how Ryker has driven past my car slowly, ogling it before he pulled his truck around to the back to pick up meat order real quick for the restaurant. 

“Hey, who’s old camaro is out front?” He asks the other butchers before they look to each other and then come out front to see the lime green glittering jewel parked in front of the shop and me and Del sitting in some chairs lining the wall as we wait for our order. 

“Ma’am is that your car?” Harun asked. 

“The green one? Yeah.” I nodded before Ryker recognized my voice and peeked around the corner to see me. 

“Hey,” He greeted happily which made me smile brightly. 

“Hey, I was just about to text you, do you like mushrooms?” I asked. 

“Oh yeah,” he nodded which made me grin. 

“Do you like steak?” I asked. 

“Oh yeah,” he nodded eagerly. 

“Lean or fatty?” I tilt my head. 

“Fatty.” He answered as I beam a proud smile at him. 

“Awesome. Are you allergic to anything food wise? Like nuts, gluten, pineapple, dairy, shellfish?” I asked. 

“No,” he shook his head with an amused smile. 

“Do you drink alcohol?” I asked next. 

“..occasionally.” He admitted. 

“Good, beer, wine or hard?” I asked next. 

“Beer and I guess harder stuff occasionally.” He answered tentatively. 

“Stouts, imperial stouts, porters, lagers, pale lagers, ales, dark ales, brown ales, pale ales, india pale ales, pilsners or bocks?” I asked next and you would have thought I was I was suddenly a pin up in a magazine the way all the butchers in the shop looked at me before they looked at Ryker to answer such a great question. 

“Uh...all of those.” Ryker nodded, impressed. 

“Good, dinner should be ready around 6 then.” I smile as Adam and Harun look from Ryker to me before they grinned knowingly at each other since they could smell the partial scenting Ryker had given me the day before when we were holding each other and got the others to go back into the back and get back to work. 

“Hey what is she getting?” Ryker asked them as he pulled himself away to continue to gather his order as I get the best steaks in the shop for Ryker and myself and a leaner new york strip for Del who loves marbling but not chunks of fat from Adam who stayed in the front with me. 

“Two beef femurs for bone marrow.” Harun answered as he continued to slice the femur shafts in half after cutting off the ends. 

“Ooh, ok, give her another femur and put it on my tab please,” Ryker insisted. 

“Ok,” Harun nodded as Ryker quickly got his order and put it in his truck before he got back in time for Harun to finish with my order. 

“I got it.” He said as he took the box that the split femurs had been put into after they got weighed and brought it out. 

“Did you need or want anything else?” Ryker asked hopefully as he gestured to the selection before I put my wrapped steaks that I had got into the box so I didn’t have to carry them separately.  

“No,” I shook my head as I went to take the box from him. 

“No, I got it, I’ll help you carry it out.” Ryker took a step back to keep me from taking it. 

“Ok, Adam how much…” I asked as I turned my attention back to Adam. 

“Dont’ worry about it, he took care of it.” Adam grinned as he nodded to Ryker who turned bashful. 

“Aww, thank you so much.” I fawn before I lead the way and open the trunk for him before I get a cold bag to put the femurs and the steaks into that to stay cool as Ryker got a peek at the other groceries in the trunk, his curiosity piqued to see what I would do with them all. 

“So this is your car?” Ryker asked. 

“Yup, Michael restored this himself as a teenager, I’m talking like 12/13 kind of teenager because his grandfather was a mechanic. It’s pretty but it just doesn’t have air conditioning and I haven’t really gotten around to getting an air conditioner to retro fit it.” I answered. 

“Are you into cars?” I asked curiously. 

“Not really no.” Ryker confessed. 

“Good.” I nodded. 

“Wait what?” Ryker asked in confusion. Weren’t most women into guys who were into cars?

“This car was my husbands other woman our entire married lives.” I revealed. 

“Oh,” Ryker replied then looks disgusted. “I mean this car is really nice but not compared to…” Ryker gestured to me. “You know, goddess divine.” Ryker finished as he pretended to bow in front of me and my jaw dropped before I just closed the difference and kissed him. Just a quick peck on the lips, but it was all I needed.  

“I can not begin to tell you how much I appreciate that. Thank you.” I just have to thank him. “I’ll see you later Handsome.” I wink as my cheeks are burning red before I get back in the car where Del is still sitting there playing games on her phone and thankfully oblivious before Ryker waives and watches me drive away, his heart swooning because his mate just kissed him and he felt like he was floating on air back into the butchershop. 

“So explain to me how she’s been in town for two days and she’s already half scented.” Adam put to him. 

“Yeah about that...” Ryker began before he explained what the situation was and what had happened and what he witnessed and what you just revealed to him before Adam was satisfied that things were going as well as they were. 

I spent the rest of the day cooking some of my best dishes and Ryker thankfully texts me before he comes so I have time to get myself ready because while I like surprises, when my dinner guests are coming- is not one of them and he comes with two huge bouquets of flowers which please Del and I a lot because the only time Michael got me flowers was our anniversary and even then it was begrudgingly. 

“Ok, so this is some of my better cooking so please judge kindly.” I warn him as we sit down at the little table which is big enough for our plates and drinks and little else and Ryker was actually tickled that I had gotten him really good beer to drink, a growler from the Silver Bullet because they crafted their own beer there.  

“You’re not having any?” He asked when he noticed I was drinking the wine he sent instead. 

“No, I can have one every once in a while if I’m not eating anything else that is going to tax my system, but otherwise the brewers yeast in beer blows me up like a balloon and it’s very painful. Just...yeast in general does that to me, one of the challenges of having Crohn’s disease.” I shrugged. “But everyone else in my family quite enjoys beer , really good beer especially because they’re all beer snobs so that’s why I know as much as I do about it. That and I just don’t like the taste or the bitterness of it. I like sweet and fruity much better anyway which is exactly what this is- so it’s not like I feel deprived or anything.” I explained as I gestured to the wine bottle as Del drinks her caprisun in a wineglass because she wanted to feel fancy too.  

“Oh, ok.” Ryker nodded before we dug into the meal.

 I nearly fell out of my chair laughing at the faces and noises Ryker made eating my food. He was moaning at my death by cheese mac and cheese, he was practically drooling at my twice baked potatoes, he was keening at my alcoholic's candied yams, he was doing the Home Improvement grunting growl at my mushroom risotto and his eyes were nearly rolling into the back of his head eating my perfectly cooked tomahawk steak with a bone marrow and butter mix that I let melt over the steaks before I heaped the steaks with the most amazing blend sauteed mushrooms that featured portabello, oyster, shitake, trumpet and porcini along with the king- morelles that were cooked in the same butter bone marrow mix and that were put not only into the risotto but on top of the steaks and the bone marrow butter left over was the butter melt for the steaks. He felt he had died and gone to food heaven because he could literally taste all the love and comfort in each bite. 

“I don’t know what your definition of fairly decent is, but you are like leagues and miles and fathoms so far above “fairly decent” in my book. Like I’m ready to sell all of my earthly possessions just for these recipes.” Ryker praised when he managed to come up for air which made me incredibly happy to hear and the kind of praise I thrive on. 

“Well are you willing to trade recipes?” I asked hopefully. 

“Yes,” Ryker immediately agreed before I took out the papers I would need to write down the recipes on and handed the rest of the notebook to him along with an extra pen. 

“Start with that cheesecake.” I urge him before he eagerly takes my pen and writes down all the other recipes he knows off the top of his head as I do the same for the dishes he’s eating as Del just looks between the two of us curiously. 

“So...are you dating my mom now?” Del asked Ryker. 

“Are you ok with that?” Ryker asked tentatively. 

“Depends. Are you violent?” Del asked and the look on Ryker’s face told me he was both shocked and heartbroken that that was the first question she would ask. 

“No.” Ryker shook his head no before he looked at me to either confirm or deny what was going through his head. 

“Good, neither was Michael and violence will not be tolerated in our family.” I simply explain before Ryker blew out a breath of relief. 

“And let me assure you that I would never bring it into your family either.” Ryker assured both me and Del which pleased us both.  

“Do you get frustrated easily?” She asked. 

“No.” Ryker shook his head. 

“We do, we need someone to be the cool calm collected one.” I explained as he nodded in understanding. 

“Do you smoke? Or use any tobacco products or illicit drugs of any kind or even misuse prescription drugs?” She asked. 

“No.” Ryker shook his head. 

“Good, neither do we, also something we won’t tolerate.” I note as he nods in agreement to that. 

“Obviously you drink, how often do you get drunk?” She asked as she looked from his beer to him, her own judgemental looks weighing him as she grills him harder than I grilled dinner. 

“Very rarely.” He answered truthfully. 

“Thank God.” I mutter in relief.

“How often is “very rarely”?” Del questioned. 

“I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten drunk. Once when I was 16 when my dad died and I found a bottle of vodka to drown my grief and the second time was when I turned 21, that’s it.” He answered truthfully. 

“And were you a mean drunk?” She asked. 

“No.” He shook his head no. “Apparently I just talked nonsense when I did.” 

“Ok, my mom gets sick a lot and can’t clean the house all the time and my dad had to do the laundry and stuff. How do you feel about housework, is it beneath you at all?” She asked. 

“I can definitely do laundry and dishes and all that no problem, plus, you know I am a chef, I can cook too.” He offered. 

“Good. My dad couldn’t cook and could barely make mac and cheese. My dad spent all his time on the car and our other vehicles and his computer playing games and watching things I was not allowed to watch and alienated us, will you do that too?” She asked with sorrowful eyes and Ryker’s own eyes got a little glassy. 

“No,” Ryker reassured her. 

“Do you hunt?” She asked hopefully. 

“Uh, sort of?” Ryker answered. 

“Do you hunt with a gun or a bow and arrow?” She asked as she tilted her head. 

“It’s a secret.” Ryker decided. 

“Tell me.” Del’s eyes went wide with excitement before he leaned down and got really close and told her all about Hearthway Hollow and how it’s actually a community of werewolves and how it all worked which she soaked up like a sponge and was completely invested in everything he told her before talked about how he lost his dad and his mom and how he lived with Shahan and his family for a while then talked about how he became a chef and opened the restaurant before we traded stories about our lives as the three of us got to know each other better.

Ryker stayed and helped clean up and I can not begin to tell you how nice it was to have someone to do the dishes with side by side. And after dinner we sat in the living room before we watched a movie- Ratatouilie of all movies and when Del fell asleep- Ryker picked her up and carried her upstairs and tucked her into bed since she was too big for me to carry and even though I really wanted him to stay over- he remained a gentleman and simply kissed me sweetly goodnight. 

The next day I dropped Del off at the camp and got to meet more of the community before I decided to go to the pool because while I love to fish in ponds, swimming in them with all the algae- not so much. Plus I did just get a new bathing suit and beach gear, can’t have it go to waste.

I can’t help but smile as I see all the heads turn when I get to the pool which is located right next to the park and when I get there I see a group of teenage boys get a pizza delivered- I have a wicked idea. I wonder if Guillermo’s would deliver here so I go online to get the number of the restaurant and call to ask and to my surprised delight, not only is the waitress taking my order the same waitress I had when I was there the other day, I found out that they do deliver and I order tacos. 

“Ryker!” Aime called out. 

“Yeah?” Ryker called back as he was in the middle of prepping ingredients. 

“Take out order.” She said as she handed the ticket itself to Ryker to look at. 

“Ok..” Ryker frowned before he read the ticket and realized who the order was from and where the order was going to. 

“Yeah I got this.” Ryker nodded to her as he made the tacos in addition to more surprises before he quickly made the order himself and quickly left to deliver it. 

I patiently waited as I floated on the pool noodles in the pool, being mindful of the other patrons as I kept my eyes fixed on the entrance, hoping and willing I would see Ryker coming through and nearly ran on the water’s surface when he walked through the door, his eyes searching for me before I waved at him as I eagerly got out of the pool to meet him. 

Ryker felt like he was watching me in slow motion as the water seemed to cling to my voluptuous curves before cascading down my body as I noticed those boys seemed to have gone silent all of a sudden too because my breasts were jiggling from my effort too.  

“Hey Handsome.” I greeted as I took off my sunglasses to look up at him as my sunhat was like a halo around my head. 

“Hey Beautiful, you know next time- you could just text me.” Ryker grins as he hands me my food. 

“I will,” I nod. “How much do I owe you?” I ask as I nod to the food. 

“Nothing.” Ryker shook his head. 

“Can I at least give you a tip?” I ask coyly and bat my eyes suggestively before he flipped his baseball cap backwards to duck his head down and kiss me firmly, grabbing me up in his arms and squeezing me to him until I run out of breath and have to break the kiss to catch it again before he pulls away and I see that I got him all wet and we both laugh. 

“Eat up before it gets too cold.” Ryker urges me before he pulls himself away from me. 

“I need to get a job as a delivery boy.” One of the boys said to the others before I strutted over to my sunchair and dig into what Ryker brought me, knowing I have unleashed the monster now. I’ll have to be careful to choose when I call for him because I have no doubt he will come when I call and I know I will do the same.

How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven.

This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook.

Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.”

The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.”

After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help.

Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact.

Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too.

Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed.

For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.”

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says.

Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.”

The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.”

Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.”

Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still.

“I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn https://ift.tt/3adfJ74

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven.

This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook.

Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.”

The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.”

After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help.

Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact.

Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too.

Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed.

For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.”

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says.

Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.”

The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.”

Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.”

Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still.

“I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn via Blogger https://ift.tt/2VccsR4

Dealers Choice 5

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Fifty Shades of Grey jokes. Mentions of murder. Mentions of parental abuse. Mentions of drug use and hookers.

Your father had always been into bad shit, it’s what got your mother killed when you were five and your brother in an out of jail, doing his dealings. When the new King of the streets, Steve Rogers, takes over he threatens the lively hood your father is dependent on. When he finds your father’s in deep with his one weakness, gambling, Steve comes to play for keeps. Looking to walk away clean, your father bets something big, the only thing he has left. You. And he fucking loses. Now you belong to a Crime Lord. Things can’t get much worse, I mean it’s not like you’ll fall in love with him, right?

“What is with you? You haven’t been returning my texts.” Nat groans as you join her, coffee in your hand.

“I dropped my phone in the water last night, playing with Dodger on the beach.” You shrug.

“You ruined your phone?” Buck looks at you confused.

“Yeah, it wasn’t savable.” You shrug. “Oh well.” You wave it off. “Oh by the way, Bucky, Wanda and Nat.” You introduce your friends to him.

“I was starting to think the King had hacked you into pieces.” Nat links arms with you, ignoring the chuckle from Buck.

“Actually he’s pretty great.” You shrug, trying to not grin.

“Like this kind of thing can happen more?” Wanda perks up.

“You’re allowed over anytime I want you over.” You nod.

“Hello, beach bitch.” Nat laughs.

“I was thinking for my birthday we’d start off with breakfast and the beach. Well it was Steve’s idea, but I like it. We can just go as we feel like it.” You shrug.

“Yes, laying on the beach for your birthday sound amazing.” Wanda grins, before Nat pulls you into a shop suddenly.

 “So what’s with the fine ass beef candy out there?” Nat asks from the dressing room next to yours. Wanda on the other side of you laughs.

“Not really sure. I didn’t pester him about it. He’s a very nice guy, more approachable than the guy who picked me up and drove me there my first day.” You laugh.

“Frank. He’s military, he’s always like that.” A male voice calls back, you pause in the middle of putting a dress on, your eyes darting around the dressing room you were in. You pull the dress down, ripping back the curtain, Buck is leaning on the opening of the dressing room area.

“One.” You hold a finger. “Creepy the way you just appear out of nowhere.” You hold up another finger. “Two. Why are you listening?” You cock your eyebrow at him.

“You should get that dress, it looks good on you.” He eyes the little black slip dress you had pulled on.

“You’re still creepy.” You shake your head, yanking the curtain back.

“So come over? Tomorrow?” You look at Wanda. “You can bring what little of my stuff is at your place. We could have lunch and lay on the beach.” You grin at her.

“You know if you’re spending so much time on the beach, you’re going to need a new suit.” Nat sighs, with a grin, pulling you by the hand.

“Oh god.” You laugh.

“She right.” Bucky chuckles, you shoot him a look over your shoulder.

“Fine. But I have another stop I have to make.” You chew your bottom lip eyeing the boutique up the street.

“Next, next. Suit first.” Wanda giggles, as Nat pulls you from the shop.

 “Red, or black?” Nat calls out of the dressing room at Bucky.

“Red doll.” He chuckles.

“Told you.” She sasses you.

“You know I don’t know about this one.” You shake your head looking at the bikini you had on in the mirror of the dressing room.

“Get them both.” Bucky calls.

“Don’t encourage the spending Bucky!” You yell back, he laughs.

“You haven’t made a dent in what he made just this morning.” He replies.

“Fuck.” You groan, that was disgusting. You had no idea what you actually spent but by the arm load of bags Bucky was carrying and had placed in the car trunk you’d spent more than you’d seen in your life. Steve made a disgusting amount of money, and he only encouraged you to spend it.

“Y/N.” Buck calls.

“Yes?” You poke your head out of the curtain, he’s looking at his phone.

“Black, gold, pink, white, or red?” He looks from the phone to you.

“For what?” Your brow crinkles.

“Pick a color nosey.” He chuckles.

“Gold, or red.” You sigh, glaring at him before you turn away again.

“I’ll stay out here on this one.” Buck nods, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket.

“I’ll try not to be long.” You nod, stepping into the risqué and lacy store.

“Thank god, it’s about time you upgrade.” Nat grins.

“I broke the strap on my good bra this morning.” You shrug.

“What are you wearing now?” Nat peers at the scoop neck, red crop top you had on, with your little white shorts and red chucks.

“The one two sizes too small.” You laugh.

“That’s why you look all.” Wanda nods towards your chest.

“I’m falling out of the thing I know. Shut up and help me pick new ones.” You push them towards the bra section.

“I say matching sets.” Nat nods, looking from the Bra’s to the pantie section.

“Kill me now, let’s do this.” You groan.

“Did you have fun?” Steve grins, slipping into the backseat of the BMW with her.

“It was fun. It was nice being around my friends.” She nods, smiling at him.

“Did you get lots of things?” He grins smugly.

“I hate for you to see what is in the truck of this car.” She laughs, flushing read.

“That makes me happy.” He smiles, nodding.

“Oh she did very good today.” Buck replies from the front.

“Oh even a report card.” She laughs.

“Join me for lunch? Perhaps you’ll show me some of the things you picked out.” He watches her flush, sighing.

“I don’t think you have enough time in your day to see all that.” She laughs.

“We’ve got time, if not today, over the rest of our time.” He nods, she pinks grinning to herself as she looks out the window.

 “You weren’t kidding.” Steve laughs as they watch Bucky and Sam carry bags and bags up the stairs to her room.

“Okay. Rule.” She swats at him playfully. “You tell me to spend your money, you don’t get to make those types of comments, or I return it all.” He laughs.

“Okay, okay.” He grins at her. “Wine?” He pulls the bottle she’d been drinking from the night before from the fridge.

“Oh yes.” She walks over, pulling out a wine glass from the rack. “Oh, Wanda is coming over tomorrow. Just so you know.” She watches him fill the glass.

“I’ll tell the boys to be on their best behavior.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” She sips from the glass.

“Boss?” Sam stops in front of the kitchen door. Holding a white apple bag and another behind it. “Where did you want this to go?” He smirks at Y/N, who watches him intently from around her wine glass.

“Bring them here, please.” He puts the wine back, walking back to the island.

“What are those?” She peers at him from across the counter between them.

“Your new phone and laptop.” He doesn’t look up, he hears her mutter something under her breath.

“I have a phone.” She replies smoothly.

“I heard you dropped it in the water last night with Dodger.” He looks up grinning smug.

“Bucky.” She calls at he walks by once more. He pauses looking in, she snatches several grapes off the counter, pelting them at him. “Big mouth!” She yells as he moves from the doorway laughing, having used her shopping bags as a shield.

“Oh should I mention the risqué little shop you walked into today?” Bucky laughs jogging up the stairs.

“Fucker!” She yells, bright red, picking up her glass she takes large drinks.

“Interesting shopping trip indeed.” He chuckles, pulling the boxes out of the bags.

“I’m going to need more wine living in this house.” She nods, setting down her glass she walks to the fridge, pulling out the bottle. “How classy am I supposed to be around you?” She turns looking at him as the fridge door closes. He looks up at her, confused. “I really want to drink this straight from the bottle.” She holds up the half drank wine bottle, he laughs.

“Trying to get drunk before lunch?” He smirks at her.

“Fine, from the glass, but the bottle stays out.” She nods heading for her glass again.

“So you tell him about the swim suits?” Buck leans on the doorway grinning. When Steve looks over at her, her mouth opens, nothing comes out and she snaps it shut again. Nodding she pulls the cork from the bottle and brings it to her lips.

“This house just got very interesting.” He chuckles, plugging her new phone in, waiting for it to start up.

Updated List: @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked   @mo320   @rileyloves5   @irepeldirt   @pcterpvrker   @tequilavet   @crazy-little-thing-called-buck   @lovemarvelousfics   @wildefire   @bluephoenix394   @dystanie-h   @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19   @violinbetty   @jcc04220   @petersunderroos   @mariekoukie6661   @winterboobaer   @girlwith100names   @lumelgy   @sarahp879   @white-chocolate-mocha-fan   @palaiasaurus64   @ria132love   @bucky-bear-barnes   @jimmyisfab   @capsheadquaters   @pigwidgexn   @ssweet-empowerment   @mustbenot  @whenallsaidanddone   @geeksareunique   @i-love-superhero   @supernatural-girl97   @nerdyandexhausted   @elle88531   @hunter-demigod-timelord   @qnzdiamond104   @coley0823   @justmeinthisworldblr   @orange-jps3497   @littlenerdgirl16   @thefridgeismybestie     @breezy1415   @angelicstormz   @rockagurl   @angelicstormz     @lilmissperfectlyimperfect   @kgbrenner   @kapolisradomthoughts   @importanttimemachinenerd     @s8sense   @kingarthurofslytherin     @shliic   @itsemmyb   @lesmiserablememelovingfuck    @importanttimemachinenerd   @wearegoldeninthenight   @teenagetragediesforeveryone   @iamwarrenspeace  

Steve Only: @fandom-queen-of-hearts   @jjsoccer11     @dreamer-at-risk   @elitafuckingone     @imabrooklynbaby  @our-chaoticwhispers   @patzammit   @kazuha159     @yourtropegirl  @mooniessuniverse  

Dealers Choice: @lucifersnipnips   @mythrealfan     @mellxander1993   @royallyslow     @dasanih20    @fandomsstolemylife00     @realclassy1324   @nerdypisces160   @qnzdiamond104    @sweet-honey15   @koizorahana    @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme   @1-fighting-dreamer   @zigadaba-stitch   @cs-please   @demonic-meatball     @thinkpretty-blog   @its-tchalla   @jboofanpage   @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory     @tchallaholla   @crazyblonde124   @red-writer13    @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too   @letmebeyoursforever  

Serendipity (Taehyung x Reader) Pt. 1

Synopsis: A language barrier can be easily overcome if you truly love, but what about seas, prejudice, cultural differences, family views, and fame? Maybe this was never meant to be. He never meant to be the one who led you to your downfall.

Warnings: Relationship abuse, Vulgar language

Genre: Social commentary, Romance

Word Count: 4129

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

The only reason why you ever agreed to come to Korea with your friends was because they had promised to go to Bryson Tiller’s next concert in LA with you. It was fine really. Your plane ticket? Paid. Hotel room? Paid. Room service? Paid. Transportation? Paid. Food and water? Paid by your sugar daddy. 

“I still can’t believe you have a sugar daddy.” Your friend, Jake, whispered to you as everyone loaded into the taxi that was taking you all to the hotel.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to pay for college?” You shot back at him in a low voice. Maryann, another friend, looked at you two quickly before the taxi driver told her something in Korean. 

“That doesn’t mean you should prostitute yourself, you know.” 

“I’m a sugar baby, not a prostitute.” He rolled his eyes as he began to load his luggage into the truck.

“It’s not different.”

“Yes it is.” You were incredibly angry at Jake for his ignorance. “I simply go on dates with the man, hear about his day. We don’t have sex. That isn’t what sugar babies do.” Jake scoffed as he began to place your luggage on top his his and in between Maryann’s. 

“Lots of them have sex with their sugar daddy. It’s only a matter of time before you do as well.” Jake could never fully respect what you ever did.

 You were triple majoring, it was a lot of money. You had fucked up in high school and ended in community college but transferred out at the end of the first year because you were constantly on your counselor about taking extra classes to leave early. This determination landed you at Stanford. But it was expensive, you did not receive a full ride even though you clearly deserved it. Working helped but it was difficult with your tight school schedule. So you did what your older friends did; get a sugar daddy. Ray was sweet, and you had told him you weren’t going to have sex with him in exchange of money, just give him company. The 37 year old man happily agreed, giving you an allowance of $4,000 biweekly. All of it went towards school. He had offered to pay off your school from the beginning but you had simply told him the allowance was okay and enough for you to put in money every chance you got for your education and school supplies. 

As a photographer, psychiatrist, and business major, you were always busy. But summer vacations had finally come and you were more than happy to leave the stress of university for a bit. 

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Maryann was directing the driver to the hotel and soon turned to you.

“Hm?” You were focused on your hands, looking pitifully at how fragile they seemed as you turned over the words that Jake had spat at you. 

“We are going to a Kpop fan meeting.” You looked up at her face. A smile illuminated her face. 

“I thought we were here because your sister was getting married here.” 

“That too.” 

“How convenient,” Jake muttered. She smacked his arm, rolling her eyes. 

“Can I know what Kpop band?” Maryann quickly turned to the taxi driver making hand gestures so he could park correctly. As if the man hadn’t lived here all his life, you thought.

“BTS. You like them remember? Namjoon is your bias.” Ohhh of course, she had introduced them to you nearly a year ago. 

“Oh damn, really? That’s so cool, I love them!” Jake began to groan as he kicked his head back.

“I really can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Mary.” She was giving the taxi man money, ignoring her dick of a boyfriend. Everyone soon got out of the car, with the trunk being popped open, you stood outside the stuffy car and looked around. Daegu was beautiful. Ray had told you about how Seoul was just too crowded, the hype around it wasn’t much real. But Maryann swore it was just as wonderful as Daegu. 

“Take in all the fresh air, princess, I bet your ‘daddy’ stuffs his old balls in your throat too much.” You opened an eye to see Jake contently looking at you. 

“What the fuck, why are you always like this?” His behaviour was always the worst, you had no understanding as to why Maryann stayed with him. Sure, he was gorgeous with a beefy body. Lumbar beef cake man, that’s how gorgeous he was but his personality was shit.

“Stop bickering you two, get your luggage so we can go sign into our rooms.” Maryann was scowling mostly you as she pulled an old Nike backpack that held your clothes. 

“You know,” Jake began as you two picked up the luggage. “I don’t understand how you don’t have enough money to buy yourself nice things instead of always thrift shopping.” You ignored him as you walked past the doors of the hotel. But that didn’t seem to stop him. “Doesn’t your pimp pay you good?”

“Enough.” You set your Adidas workout back on the counter of the check in desk. Maryann looked at the two of your from the corner of her eye as she talked to the clerk. “Can you please stop?” 

“Here,” She thrusted the card of your room into your side. “Go.” You didn’t need to be told twice. 

You were laying in the enormous bed, crying silently. 

It wasn’t healthy that Maryann just stayed with Jake. He was fucking horrid. Things like this weren’t something good, much less to be romanticized. 

A soft knock was soon heard on your door. 

“Come in,” You quickly wiped the tears away as the door opened.

“Hey,” Maryann softly spoke as she entered. “You’re going to have to go by yourself.” She sat next to you in bed, looking down as her hands ran through her hair.

“Why’s that?” Maryann remained silent for a few seconds.

“Jake said it would be best if we stayed here.”

“Wait no. You’re the only one who speaks fluent Korean! I won’t understand them! They won’t understand me either!” You quickly got a hold of her hands.

“Jake said no, (Y/N)” Her sharp tone made you drop it immediately. “Here,” She quickly thrusted the ticket into your hand, “I already got you an uber, it should be here in 30 minutes. Korean beauty is more simple than ours. You’ll be fine.” Forget that, I was going to do a sharp ass wing, make my brows as thick as my ass, and my cheekbones as defined as my sexuality.

“Okay...Will you be going to eat?” 

“Something like that. I’ll go so you can get ready.” She quickly left without much anything, leaving you confused.

“Well... I guess?”

The whole thing was mayhem, a complete disaster even if it did not seem so. Everyone was pretty rude to you given you didn’t speak their tongue but you knew it was your fault for being extremely ignorant about not learning it, instead learning ASL. Not that it was wrong to learn ASL but Maryann always said German and Korean was more important to learn for the business field. 

Seeing how the fans flocked and submissively obeyed to the boys on the stage, it was wonderful to see how the band were conductors themselves and with a simple flourish of their batons, hands, the large symphony of fans would either crescendo or decrescendo or simply stop altogether.  

But it wasn’t until they started to call us up onto the stage to meet the boys that things got difficult for you. You were pushed to the end of the line, how embarrassing. You would be the final impression they would take away from this brigade. 

“Hi,” You awkwardly bowed your head as you kneel in front of the long table, and in front of Seokjin. He smiled and instantly reached out for your hands.

“Hi!” It was obvious to him that you were a foreigner due to the different style of makeup you had on and your facial characteristics were western. He mentally thanked himself for talking English classes back in his school days. “How are you?” 

You smiled back instantly, the huge worry that was pitted in your stomach became at ease.

“I’m good, thank you for asking.”“ He kept holding your hands while his other hand started signing the album Maryann handed you before the uber came. 

“Please have them all sign it! Also, remember to bring them gifts. Have the driver take you to stores or anything you brought, give them it if you think it might interest them.” Remembered Maryann’s words, you brought out a family size box of Fruit Loops and Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange album and placed them in front of you.

Jin’s eyes widen.

“I brought you these. You seem like someone who would like Frank Ocean and Fruit Loops.” 

“Wah! Thank you!” He bowed continuously to you, shock taking over him. Jungkook was going to take the cereal once they got home if he spotted it so Jin began to quickly thing of places of where to place before Jungkook could finish the whole box, without the other members having some first.

Oblivious to his thoughts, you quickly told it there was no need to thank you. The girl next to you was now shifting to the next member, cueing you that it was time to say goodbye to Jin.

“Goodbye, thank you for being welcoming. Have a nice day, Jin!” He felt the need to correct you for talking so informal to him but quickly remembered that there was no formalities in your language such as his.

“Bye, you too.” He smiled sweetly at you as you scooted to the following member who was Hoseok. 

“Hi.” Hoseok was taken aback.

“Hi!” His sun smile made you instantly feel much more at ease, the ball of nerves in your stomach became even smaller. 

“I brought you some stuff.” You quickly pushed the signed album over to him as you began to look through the your large handbag. Hoseok cocked his head to the side, wondering why you needed such a large bag. He shook his head, and started to sign his name onto the album next to Jin’s signature. He was admiring his hyung’s penmanship when you suddenly placed something on the table. You placed a bag of Tostitos in front of you. “I figured you would like to be eating and theses are original from mexico and although it says green sauce in Spanish, they’re not spicy but I think you might like them a lot. Also this album is very good.” You handed him the best collection of The Beatles album. 

Hobi smiled, understanding you as he took the bag and looked at them. The chips in the picture did seem appetizing. He figured Yoongi would like to try them as well and quickly placed them next to him. His fingers turned over the album you gave him, studying the art before looking up at you. 

“Thank you!” There was just something about him that made him such a gorgeous person, he also smelled amazing. Jin did too but Hoseok began to slowly have a special place in your heart from the short interaction you had held with him. You mentally thanked Maryann for this all. 

Someone poked you. 

You looked to the side and saw that it was Jimin. The girl next to you had now moved onto the next person, leaving you the spot in from of Jimin.

“Oh! I’m sorry..” You felt incredibly embarrassed, feeling your face turn hot.

Little did you know that someone had been watching you since you had entered the room and following your interacts with the members.

“It’s okay.” Jimin smiled so tenderly to you, you instantly felt like jello. He was beautiful and so sweet. Hoseok handed him Maryann’s album and turned to Jin, chatting. 

“I have something for you too.” He quickly signed on the back of the album, contrary to the other two who had signed the front. He then placed his head on his hand as he watched you amusingly search through the large handbag. 

You made a small triumphant sound before bring out a bottle of Rose water and a jewelry box. 

“Hm?” You looked at him with a smile.

“Rose water is very good for your skin, it will freshen you up and I know you like rings so here.” He grabbed the items and open the box which revealed a black band ring with a single gold line running across the ring. Jimin was speechless. ‘I really hope you like it.” 

“Thank you,” He replied shyly as he blushed.  You quickly looked to the side and saw the girl saying her goodbyes to Namjoon. Your heart quickened.

Namjoon. 

He was right there, a few inches away. You looked at Jimin who was now studying your face. 

“Um, I-I-Oh!” He took one of your hands and started to rub his thumb into your palm. 

“It’s okay, okay?” Jimin had noticed your sudden change in demeanor when you seen Namjoon. You quickly nodded, feeling so pathetic. The girl had now moved away. “Okay?”

“Yes.” He smiled at you so cutely and let go of your hand.

“Hyung.” He handed the album to Namjoon who smiled at you as you scoot over to him. 

“H-hi,” Fuck, you cringed at your stammering.

“Hi princess!” Namjoon started signing the album.

“I um, brought you something.” Your shaky hand reached into your purse as the other hand held it wide open.

“Really? You didn’t have to do that, babe.” The pet names he was giving you didn’t help your poor heart. 

“Here, I hope you like them.” You had taken some Blue Beats headphones and a Bryson Tiller album called TRAPSOUL that a friend of yours had given you, promising it was gold which it was. 

“Wow, thank you so much!” You placed the items next to him. He immediately grabbed your hand and began praising you for the gifts. The fan service BTS gave to their fans was incredible. You couldn’t believe just how genuine they were. 

“It’s n-nothing. I hope you enjoy the album and I apologize for the headphones. They were mine but I think you would look better with them.”

“They’re yours? I am going to love and cherish this even more now. I know I will enjoy the album, thank you so much for this, princess.” You were sure that your cheeks were red now. “I’m afraid our time is up though. Thank you for coming and being our fan. I appreciate and love you.” Namjoon’s famous dimple made an appearance that left you breathless. 

“Thank you. Bye.” You looked down as you scoot down to the next person. 

“Hi!” You quickly looked up to see Taehyung smile at you. Namjoon had already handed him the album. 

“Hello.” Taehyung really enjoyed your response. He was bewitched from the second he saw you. Your uncomfortable face from when you were sitting with everyone else before coming up on the stage made him wish he could sit you next to him. You were clearly uncomfortable and he knew exactly how it felt to be in a different country, surrounded by people speaking an alien language around you.

He reached out to touch your face but stopped. Namjoon was clearly your bias. He had noticed the second you were with Jiminnie and looked over to see Namjoon, you began to panic. Taehyung smiled at you again but it was almost sad. 

“Um,” He began to think as to what he could say to you. “You are very pretty.” He had a little trouble correctly pronouncing but nevertheless, did his best for you. 

“Thank you, I brought something for you.” You once again ducked and began to rummage through the large purse. Tae took this time to sign the album next to Jin Hyung and Hobi Hyung’s signatures. Had he fallen in love? Yes, he was sure of it. How he saw you interact with his Hyungs made him far more sure of it. 

“No, it’s okay.” You ignored his words as you pulled out-

“Now you know where I sleep.” Your phone rang with The Weeknd singing, 

“I’m sorry.” The items were dropped as your fingers now prodded around for the vibrating phone. A quick pull firm the inside of the purse, brought you your phone that showed Maryann’s number. “Yeah?” You quickly answered as you saw the girl next to you move down.

“(Y/N) come back please, Jake went a little crazy,” You could hear your precious best friend whisper in terror and with such softness, it was a bit difficult to hear her but nevertheless, you understood.

Taehyung quickly shook his head at the guard who was going to ask you to move up. The look on your face told him that it was best to leave you alone. 

“She has to go next down the line.” The guard said but Tae kept shaking his head.

“I’m on my way, I swear if that piece of shit touched you, Maryann.” You voice cracked towards the end of your very heated sentence, causing Namjoon to pay attention to the scene that was unfolding before him.  

“Hey, are you alright?” 

“I have to go, here have my bag.” Taehyung watched you get up and leave the handbag in front of him and then run down the stage, talking into the phone as you now jugged out of the place. 

“Hyung, she left her purse.” Taetae pulled the bag onto his lap as he turned to Namjoon. 

“We’ll look through it to see if she left any form of information that can help us find her.” Tae looked at Namjoon who was now facing Jimin, clearly not worried whatsoever about the girl who had ran from the venue with a face of horror.

“What the fuck happened?” You slammed the door close as you quickly made your way to Maryann who was sitting on the hotel bed with a blank face.

“Nothing, why are you here?” Jake hissed as you as yo got on your knees in front of your shock stricken friend. She didn’t look at you, just kept this very empty look in her eyes as she stare straight past your head. “Weren’t you at that stupid koreaboo exposition?” You stood up, giving Jake an annoyed look.

“Shut the fuck up, for once shut the fuck-” The only thing you heard was a dull ring in your right ear and your vision was spotted with blind white lights. Everything internally became hot. 

Jake had hit you. 

You could faintly hear Maryann scream at Jake as your body thumped against the carpet.

“Hey where are you going?” Jimin’s smile had ceased as soon as he saw Taehyung get up from his seat with the large purse the foreign girl had earlier. 

However, Tae ignored Jimin. 

In his mind, all he could think of was just how angry and terrified her face was when she had received that call.

“If you leave her with any form of evidence that you hit her, a week before my sister’s wedding, I will kill you myself Jake.” Maryann was seated on the floor next to your crumpled body with your head on her lap, and a bag of ice in her hand as she pressed it gently to the affected area. 

Jake walked around the hotel room with his hands crossed over his head, huffs of anger could be heard coming from him.

“I don’t understand why your little friend here is so fucking nosy,” He growled at his girlfriend who continued to apply the cool ice against your hot cheek that had felt as if it were torn apart by lighting itself. “This wouldn’t have happened if she had just kept her nose clean.” You couldn’t believe this man, much less your supposed best friend. This was your fault and it only mattered if you weren’t presentable after this incident for the wedding. 

Fucking incredible.

“Maryann,” You brought your hand to her wrist. “I’m fine.” If you spoke to her right now about reporting Jake or leaving him, as he was in the same room after smacking the utter shit out of you, it would not be safe for either of the two of you. “Can I just- got to my room?”

“Absolutely not, whore.”

“Jake, she won’t say anything.” He stopped walking around.

“We can’t trust her, Maryann.”

“I honestly just want to sleep this off. I haven’t said shit about how you fucking treat Maryann for a year now, what difference will it make now?” A lot, actually.

Jake seemed to have thought of your words, weighing options and the multiple possibilities that could rise if he let you go to your room after this.

“You’re right, no one would believe a sugar prostitute.” He snickered as he crouched over to you, gripped you by the front of the shirt, and literally dragged you off of Maryann, to continue dragging you to the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” You quickly scrambled up and left the awful room. 

Why was Maryann still with this guy? It was so clear to anyone at this point just how much of a shit head Jake was. He didn’t treat her right, she cried almost every day and every night, he cheated so much, he never really took her out. What was the point of this?

Your hands shook as you checked your pockets for the room card, only to remember that it was in the handbag you left at the fan meeting. 

“FUCK ME!” Tears began to furiously stream down your face as your sunk down the door, feeling so alone. Your head began to hurt a bit with every sob that shook your core along with the hot tears that cascaded down from your cheeks, to your jaw, and down your neck. Why did you care so much for a friend who didn’t even love herself? She didn’t even care for you when her boyfriend decided to smack you across the face! Her only concern was if you would look ugly for the pictures. “I’m so fucking stupid.” You were sure your wails could be heard but at the moment, nothing really mattered to you. 

“Hello, my friend left this over at my place before leaving. I just called her but her phone seems to be dead.” Taehyung couldn’t believe he was lying right into someone’s face. Someone who he didn’t even know. But by the way their eyes lit up at the sight of his face, they knew him. 

“Oh!” She quickly bowed her head. “Yes, you can leave it here and we will her call her room in a second to inform her that her item is here with us safely.” The lady began to reach for the large purse when Taehyung flashed her his famous boxy smile. 

“No, it’s okay, I would like to give it to her in person so she doesn’t worry that a stranger might have had it, and turned it in.” Idiot, that was exactly what he was doing. He internally winced at his stupid error, hoping the receptionist didn’t catch him. 

“I’m sorry but I can not reveal any customer information unless she gives explicit details to us saying otherwise. I’m sure you understand, sir.” She gave Tae a sickly smile. 

“Okay, well, here it is. I’ll be going now. Have a nice day.” He decided it was best if he didn’t try to intervene further more. It was creepy of him actually to even consider showing up in her hotel room, especially when there was a very obvious language barrier and she was a foreigner. Deeply looked down upon truly! 

As soon as he walked away, purse on the counter, he heard the receptionist tell the other receptionist to call room-

“A-52.” 

“Hmm..” He began to think. 

Creepy, creepy indeed. 

But she looked awful when she stormed out. He wasn’t exactly sure if she even had anyone here, a foreign country to her, to help her.

“Don’t.” He could clearly hear his manager’s voice warn him in his head. “This will cause a huge publicity problem.” But was it better to ignore what he had saw just to keep his image clean? Was that actually fair? 

Without any further thought to it, his legs began to walk towards the elevator. To anyone else that wasn’t in on the situation, he appeared to just be a man deep into thought as he pressed the buttons of the already opening elevator, to his room. But this was certainly not the case. No, not all. 

Part 2 (Not Ready)

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How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time added to Google Docs

How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven.

This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook.

Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.”

The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.”

After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help.

  Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact.

Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too.

Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed.

For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.”

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says.

Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.”

The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.”

Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.”

Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still.

“I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.”

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/2020/4/15/21219753/restaurants-feeding-hospital-workers-covid-19-coronavirus

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The Time is NOW to Get Kids Into Cars!

In the January 2018 issue, the editor’s column and a story inside the magazine introduced readers to young Frankie Waters and her passion for her 1967 Mustang fastback project. That story and column elicited more comments than we’ve gotten in quite some time, showing that it hit a real nerve about saving our automotive hobby and industry by getting young people off their cell phones, out in the garage, and interested in cars and, hopefully, Mustangs.

This month’s cover story is on the Rebuilding Generations program that does just that—gets kids working with adults to build cars while teaching the generations about each other. Kids and adults alike learn new things through the program under the guise of mentorship, and great cars come out of it as well. It’s a real win-win. This story is meant to show more real-world examples of young people and their passion for Mustangs using their own words and pictures. We started it off with the story of Timothy Baba and his two daughters as they restored a Mach 1 (which you may have seen on Mustang-360.com back in December).

Papa’s Race Car J.M. McLain, from Lake Elsinore, California, wrote in to tell us about his grandson, who already has the Mustang bug. He said, “Our grandson, Jacob, has been a Mustang enthusiast since he was a toddler. He would go out to the garage with Papa and work on Papa’s ‘race car.’ The ‘race car’ is really a 1965 fastback that has been on the project list for over 20 years after the framerail ended up in the trunk compartment. It’s a work in progress but holds a special place in our grandson’s heart and mind.”

Jacob doesn’t live very close to his grandparents anymore, but his grandfather said, “He still remembers working on ‘Papa’s race car.’ He visited us a few months ago and he was out in the garage ready to work on the Mustang with his grandpa. He is eight years old now and is anxious to learn more about Mustangs and cars in general. He and grandpa decided it would be cool to get the car running so they could hear it rumble. Jacob was grinning from ear to ear. Because of his great love of Mustangs, we ordered him his very own subscription to Mustang Monthly so he and grandpa can look at it together across the physical miles that separate them now. He also learned how to change a tire. Grandpa taught him how to remove the lug nuts, jack the car up, use jackstands and place the tire under the car for safety, rotate the tires properly, and tighten the lug nuts in the star pattern. It gives his grandpa great pleasure that the disappearing desire for working on muscle cars is still strong in Jacob.”

Making Memories Together Joey Burkman read the Hoofbeats column on HotRod.com and wrote to say, “It had me reflecting back on so many memories from my youth, building cars and friendships. Late nights in the garage with buddies firing up the latest engine build at 2:00 in the morning to break in the engine…no, the neighbors weren’t very appreciative of that, to say the least.

“The reason for my email is to talk about my son Logan who turned 16 this past June. He currently has his learner’s permit and he is very enthusiastic about cars. He purchased his first car over this past summer from the money he saved from his part-time job, a 1991 Mustang GT. We’re no strangers to Mustangs here as I’ve owned several over the years. He currently has it in the garage ready to pull the engine to deal with the oil leaks, and the plan is to swap out the AOD for a manual. While it’s up we’ll also address the almost 30-year-old suspension. The car sat for a number of years, the paint is faded—quite badly actually—but the interior is very clean and the ashtray door works! It’s hard to believe looking at it from the outside that it only has 86,000 miles on it. We continue to source parts for it and have hit a few swap meets, which has been a huge help. The memories we’re making and the time we’re spending together on his car are priceless. I hope that one day when he has his own son he’ll look back and remember all the great times we’ve shared.”

Mechanically Inclined Kids Are Still Around, and I’m the Proud Parent of One! Linda Cocce of Wayland, Massachusetts, says:

“My son John became fascinated with my ’64½ Mustang at a young age. He would have slept in it if allowed. To keep him happy I made him a Mustang bedroom with a custom rug, comforter, curtains with radio knob ties, and later he added Chip Foose signed Mustang emblems to the wall. He read everything he could about Mustangs, especially Mustang Monthly.

“If the Mustang was going in for service he was there trying to help. He was like a sponge—he wanted to know how everything worked; luckily, we had a very patient mechanic who would take the time to explain things to him. This just piqued his interest even more.

“He never had an X-box, computer games, or was allowed to watch TV during the day, so for fun he played outside with friends or used his tools to fix something. His fascination with motors continued, and soon other people’s discarded machines filled the garage. He would take them apart to see how they worked and make a new contraption out of the parts. By age 15 he started his own lawn care business. When his machines broke down, he’d fix them himself. This led to John repairing broken go-karts, mowers, chain saws, etc. for people in our town.

“He is 21 now, studying to be a mechanical engineer. During his summers, he works in his landscape business, fixes machines, and works as a mechanic in a garage. The first thing he packs when heading off to college in the fall are his tools!”

Johnny and the “very patient” mechanic Tom Morrell (from Butch & Son Automotive in Sudbury, MA) in the garage.

Installing carpet at a young age.

Helping a friend work on their car.

How cool would it be to wear a Mustang shirt in a Ferrari museum?

A Ford Family Through and Through The Hamilton Family lives in Eastern Oregon and are dyed-in-the-wool Ford people, with all the kids into building their own Fords, including a few Mustangs and Mavericks. The family patriarch Marvin wrote, “I was glad to see other families doing what we have been doing for years. I have five children (four daughters and one son) and all have received an old Ford at the age of 13 and began the process of tearing down and rebuilding on their own car. We have three Mustangs (a ’67, ’72 and ’73), two Mavericks (’75 and ’72 Grabber), and a 1967 F100 Stepside truck. My son Marvin is the second to oldest and he has been there for every car from day one. He has an amazing thirst for knowledge and a big heart. My daughters Cassie, Neali’i, Nive, Teelay, and Lani have also had the thrill of their first car and the pain of busting their knuckles on a flywheel (that is how you learn). I have been blessed to see how they have taken what they have been taught and use it to diagnose and repair an engine problem. I have also gotten my wife, Tile (pronounced “TEE lay”), into the game. The kids and I pulled together and built her a beautiful 1997 convertible with three-stage paint, and I had her in the 100-plus summer heat swapping out the top.”

“We are Hawaiian and Samoan; we do great BBQ and have fun with cars. We attend an awesome church where there are members with more Ford parts stored in their houses and out buildings than in Detroit, and our pastor always works his ’65 Mustang into the sermon one way or another. We are all about trade at the church and I have traded paintwork, beef jerky, BBQ (I make the best), and child labor for parts. If my kids need a part or something they want but don’t have they look to them for trade and go work for the part or the help fixing it. Not only do they learn the love of cars they learn community and the value of ‘trade’ (trade is a lost art). So many memories to share with my wife and kids and their cars.”

The Hamilton Family

The oldest daughter Cassie found her 1973 Mustang on a Facebook posting. Her dad said, “She sold her VW bug (that we built together) in a week and prayed the car was still for sale. We got it home and cleaned up and color-matched the copper to the repaired fenders. Then on her graduation day my son smashed into her car with his Maverick and mashed the passenger door and fender. My daughter went on a mission to Samoa after graduation and my son promised to have the repairs done before she came back. While pulling the fender and doing repairs my son asked, ‘Do we have the stuff to paint the whole car? We can do a full color change!’ That boy spent the next week and a half in 100-plus degree temps sanding and pulling dents and fixing old problems along the way. One picture you see him throwing down the black 2K. We shot the car in the garage and you can see it and my ’72 in gray. She is 22 now and has an Explorer after selling her ’73, which she totally regrets now.”

The kids and their Mavericks. The Hamilton’s house has “been the demise of many Granadas, Monarchs, and four-door Mavericks” used as parts cars. All cars have had Granada disc brake upgrades and were converted from a four-bolt lug drum to a five-bolt disc and matching rearend.

Keali’i is now 16 but got her car at 13. Her proud papa said, “She loves rolling up at her high school with that orange one-of-a-kind ’72 Grabber that she put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into (she is an Oregon Beavers fan, so now you get the colors).

Nive (age 14) is in the initial stages of her 1967 F100 build (she had to be different). She has the bed off of it and is using the garage and winter to set herself up great for spring. Dad said, “We have a set of old school turbines that are going to be powdercoated crimson red and it will be a flat black with crimson red scallops. She made that call and I am all good with it.”

Lastly you see a 1987 GT and a 1967 hardtop. Dad said, “My children and I spent several years building that ’87 for the wife and gave it to her on her birthday. She drove it a year, then one day at church one of our church members showed up in a ’66 coupe and that was it. She wanted a classic. Now I am about to start with her car.”

The Longest Summer of All Time Tommy Ratatsidis has been into cars his entire life, saying it started when he was a toddler, “My friends call me obsessed. I think it’s in my blood. My mom and dad bought a brand-new 1988 LX hatch when they got married, and when I was 3-4 years old my dad would street race his 1978 Cobra and my mom would take me to watch him race his LX. My dad always had Mustangs growing up.”

Dad’s stable included the ’78 Cobra, as well as a 1971 Boss 351 clone, a ’78 King Cobra, a ’73 Mach 1, an ’88 coupe, “and many in between.” When Tommy was 15, he worked at a car wash for the summer and saved everything he could to find a project car. He said, “I had my heart set on a 1969 SportsRoof. I would have settled for a shell, then work from there. Every week the Auto Trader would come to the shop and I would go through it on my break and the prices for first-generation Mustangs were starting to climb and climb and the cars were junk—rotten garbage cars for too much money. Then one day I was skimming through the pages and found an ad for an original-owner 1978 that ‘had to be seen’ according to the ad. I got home that day and told my dad, ‘You need to drive me to see a car!’”

With a mere $500 in his pocket and expecting to find a basket case, the car turned out to be clean and spotless with no filler and Tommy asked his dad what he thought. “He turned to me and said, ‘This is your car and your money, go make a deal.’ So [the owner and I] went to the backyard patio table and I told him I only had $500. He gave a look that said, ‘Do you know how much the car is worth?’ I told him I’d work all summer and could make $1,500 to $1,700 maximum, and he said $1,500 was enough. I offered to give him the $500 as a deposit and he said, ‘No, the car will go back in the garage with your name on it.’ We shook hands and went on our way. It was the longest summer of all time. I worked and made money and phoned him every two weeks to update him on how much more money I had. Finally at the end of August I got to go pick up the car. I couldn’t drive of course, so my dad drove it home but I couldn’t have been happier. Right away I yanked the four-cylinder drivetrain out to make room for a 351 Cleveland and automatic.”

Tommy later swapped the gas-guzzling Cleveland for a 302 and five-speed combo that he blew up street racing, so now the car has a 5.0 EFI engine from a 1989 Mustang GT and a Vortech blower. He also just added a 1978 Cobra to the stable, saying, “Now I have a newborn and wanted a project for her when she’s older, so we picked up a clean ’78 Cobra originally from Texas that had been sitting in a garage since 1983. My brother followed my footsteps and bought his first car when he was 15, a 1974 Mach 1. He’s 17 now and works incredibly hard and has a 1991 Fox coupe and a 1987 Bronco. We love our Fords; it’s in our blood.”

Tommy Ratatsidis at 17 with his first Mustang, a 1978 coupe.

The green coupe has had pretty much everything done to it and sees occasional dragstrip duty with an ’89 5.0 and a Vortech supercharger.

The Ratatsidis family. This baby girl probably already has Ford-blue blood in her!

Tommy’s brother and his LX coupe in the summer of 2017.

The Top of His Class Don Cort wrote to tell us, “My wife and I recently purchased a Mustang for our son, Donny. He then taught himself, with my help, and worked through to complete a ground-up restoration of this 1966 Mustang GT hardtop. He stripped and restored the entire car by himself. He rebuilt the 289 engine and four-speed transmission, completely stripped the body, straightened it, then painted it and then reassembled the entire car with a full detailed nut-and-bolt restoration. He worked through the entire interior (bench seat car), wiring, and suspension as well. Essentially, the 15 year-old completed the entire project himself with some guidance in a year and learned incredible skill along the way, which put him at the top of his entire school’s automotive class as a freshman/sophomore. I offer this as an example of what is possible with our younger generation if opportunities are available. The pride, knowledge, and skills he gained were incredible and I could only hope you may find it in your best interest to reflect this in your fine magazine so others may see the light and opportunities available to the younger generation which may occupy their minds with something other than a video game, a cell phone, and the rest of time-wasting devices which so many are lost in.”

Absolutely Mr. Cort!

The post The Time is NOW to Get Kids Into Cars! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven. This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook. Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.” The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.” After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help. Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact. Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too. Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed. For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.” The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says. Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.” The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.” Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.” Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still. “I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.” from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn

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