Baked Acorn Squash with Brown Sugar and Butter

Baked Acorn Squash with Brown Sugar and Butter


Ingredients
1 acorn squash, cut in 1/2

2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons butter, softened
2 tablespoons maple syrup
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Directions
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Scoop the seeds and stringy pulp out of the squash cavities and discard.

In a small mixing bowl, combine the brown sugar, butter, syrup and salt and pepper, to taste.
Rub the squash cavities and cut sides of the squash with the butter mixture and place them on a baking sheet, cut side up.

Bake in the preheated oven for about 1 hour until the squash is tender when pierced with a fork. Serve 1 half per person.

Read more at: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/baked-acorn-squash-with-brown-sugar-and-butter-recipe/index.html?oc=linkback

Drabble Cascade #37 - Cry : To Have a Demon (PG, demon/human)

FB3X Drabble Cascade #37 - Cry

Title: To Have a Demon (PG, demon/human)
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 300
Prompt: Cry
Set in the Demon Mine ‘verse

Half awake as he plodded one foot in front of the other through the village, his first reaction was to tense up at the sounds. The moaning spoke of someone in deep pain. Forcibly throwing off exhaustion and gathering whatever brain cells could be shaken awake, Matt tried to locate where the noises were coming from before realizing in what part of the village he was passing through.

Oh course. Freniel’s house. Freniel had returned recently from the human plane after a successful hunt. His human consort, Karl, was larger than ‘Niel’, which said something, and there’d been much joking about their courtship.

Matt glanced up at the window to see the window gaping. ‘Niel’ was boasting or was it Karl who was the boaster. Smothering a laugh behind a tightly clasped to mouth hand Matt took himself home, the rhythmic groaning following him. The slapping of flesh on flesh accompaniment said that someone was putting some real effort of percussive manipulation into eliciting those groans and was as stimulating to listener as it was to the receiving party.

Running home would raise eyebrows and probably smiles. Bikiel and Matt were still a fairly new couple themselves. Not as new as Freniel and Karl, but Matt had always insisted on the windows being closed and glared whenever he’d found the window sashes agape. So Matt hurried, matching his strides to the rising groans that were becoming urgent cries of more, harder, faster; following him.

Once home Matt called, “Kiel! Kiel, where are you?” slamming the door behind and making a rapid search for his prey.

“Ah, and here I thought you might be tired,” Kiel smiled.

“Niel was riding Karl.”

“Yes?”

“No.” Scandalized, “Niel was receiving.” Flapping his hands, “Now. Take me to bed. And the windows better stay Shut.”