#try guys without a recipe

[gallifreyriver]

Look, I'm not gonna say that Ned's presence didn't add anything to the Try Guys-

But I am gonna say, as someone who had been casually watching their videos since the start of their channel, that after he got kicked out it took me way too long to realize that the CGI animals were covering where he had been in their pre-recorded videos of Without a Recipe- and not, in fact, just something funny and quirky they were trying out because there were three bakers and only two could bake in the kitchen at one time so they gave the third baker a CGI elephant to pretend to banter with.

In fact, it wasn't until after I noticed they quit doing the CGI animals and was wondering why they decided to drop the bit that it finally clicked why they had been there in the first place.

[e-historian]

Try Guys W.A.R. Livestream-Multicam

[touchmybutt-buymetacobell]

My brain, after watching Try Guys: Without A Recipe all day and deciding to make challah bread (And after four Voodoo Rangers):

[sylvansleuth]

Joyce Louis-Jean // Try Guys Make Girl Scout Cookies Without a Recipe🍪

[lucy-frostblade]

try guys without a recipe is such a good vibe show like all the judges are nice even when shit is bad and you can tell they’re all happy to be there and all the try guys are helping each other when they can like it really is about friendship

[meowyjean]

this is the marauders getting told off by minnie btw

i was watching a try guys video over dinner, but the brainrot keeps taking over

[youhavebeentraceyd]

i really appreciate this about brennan, he's very straight forward when it comes to competitions (see his rant regarding the whishy washy point system for Make Some Noise). cooking competitions, in particular, can be extremely subjective, but brennan goes ahead and says 'no fuck that, i'm making this objective AF. I have a set criteria, jessica hit the critera the most, therefore she wins. end of discussion.'

[superineffable]

oh my god the bradys bakery owner from grant's game changer bachelor episodes that sam reich orders from is the same guy who was a judge in try guys without a recipe cookies video years ago and did the whole cookie instructional video

[wifegideonnav]

if you think about it, the turtle is natures sandwich

[littletonpace]

The Try Guys / The Try Guys Make Oreos Without A Recipe ↳ Jared being adorably clueless

[kay-claire]

Damn the Try Guys creating their own streaming platform announcement video vs the Watcher announcement video are night and day.

Like, the Try Guys have actual footage of the content to expect from the new platform. They're still going to be posting the stuff we already love on YouTube. With the announcement they actually show just what kind of production value you can actually achieve instead of just vague promises to do higher production value while sitting on a couch. They made their point in 8 minutes instead of 14. And the Watcher video was hyped up for a week leading to it, making everyone expect something fun and exciting, and then they used a click bait title that just made everyone so mad.

Also we already know the Try Guys struggle with censorship on YouTube so this actually feels like a good move for them, and something that they have probably been working on for ages, whereas the Watcher one came completely out of left field and felt extremely rushed. They wanted you to pay $6 for a product that was still in beta mode with no proof of concept yet, while I am fully convinced the Try Guys will have very few growing pains with this, AND it's cheaper!

[soapkaars]

So @faustiandevil showed me the chaotic madness that is The Try Guys' Without a Recipe, and naturally we wondered what this show would be with Old Hollywood stars. So featuring: Peter Lorre, Conrad Veidt, Bela Lugosi, and Boris Karloff.

[lokh]

yall what it mean when u are trying to make dango but it wont stay in a ball.

[lanternlightss]

(thank you to @arson-n-quwubilder for the request <3 ! )

There is not a sight more fascinating to Venti than the image of his dear friend with his eyes sparkling, awed etched into every detail of his features, his mouth opened in a small “o,” as he takes in what lies before him—the food of the one, the only, Good Hunter!

Cecil’s fingers dig into the cuffs of his top. Points, to where Sara sets a Mint Jelly plate and an Apple Roly Poly onto the counter, turning to face Venti. He had done the same to the last few foods that have been taken away to those who had ordered them (a Satisfying Salad, Venison Steak, Moon Pie, and Crab, Ham & Veggie Bake, thus far.) He seems to be particularly intrigued about the Apple Roly Poly, now, though, asking Venti, “What is that?”

His eyes pull up, delighted to share—the food his children think of and create are extraordinary! “An Apple Roly Poly! It is made with apples, of course, and eggs, butter, flour, all coiled into one. A delicacy, for sure.”

“And—the green?”

“Mint Jelly,” and how, briefly, he wishes that those in Old Mondstadt could have eaten jelly, he thinks that Amos would have liked it. “it is made with those mints you keep seeing, and sugar. A very squishy, sweet food!”

“Squishy ….”

Cecil falls into a contemplative silence. Frets with Venti’s ruffles, and the buttons on his sleeve, his expression becoming something akin to a stilted wariness, determination the longer he thinks on his words. Venti, deliberately, pretends not to notice, casually humming a short tune to himself in the wait, and lightly tapping his foot against the legs of the wooden chair he sits on.

“Are there any other foods made of apples?”

Venti grins. “My friend, there are many. Northern Apple Stew, Apple Fritters, ehe, it is not a food, but Apple Ciders, and Candy Apples, Apple Cake, Apple Pie—”

“Apple Pie!?”

“Apple Pie!!!!!!”

“How is it made?”

“Oh, apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, mmm.. butter too, and—” and they … they have everything they need to make it … right here, oh goodness, Venti from three days past thank you for not spending a drop of your mora! He stands from his chair (Cecil jumping, hand darting from his sleeve), it scraping across the stones, tittering just that slightest bit at the end. “One moment, beloved!”

“What—” He, too, stands, one knee placed onto the seat, his head swiveling to follow after Venti bursting into a run to the general goods shop, “What are you—??”

“One moment, cherished, one moment!!”

He is certain there are teal feathers and puffs of Anemo trailing after him in his sprint, hoping those are overlooked by the Vision hung at his belt, too caught in his excitement to get the ingredients needed to tweak that little quirk. It is normal to have feathers. Glowing feathers. Very normal, everyday thing that people have and do. Pay no mind to the fact that his Vision is not also glowing as brightly as the feathers are, it happens, you see.

Sliding up to the counter, bracing his hands on it, he pants: “Miss Blanche! Miss Blanche, good lady, do you happen to have flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon?”

Blanche, the lovely shopkeeper she is, is holding a hand to her mouth, attempting to hide a laugh. Venti considers this a success.

“Of—snrk—Of course.” She pivots on her heel, rummaging through the shelves positioned around her, meticulously and gingerly adding each item grabbed to the crook of her elbow. She sets them down just as gently. “That’ll be two hundred and forty mora!”

Venti has already brought out and dug through his pouch of the currency. Pokes at the pile, as he counts it in his head, and puts the needed amount into her outstretched palm, scooping the ingredients into his arms with his other hand (and, for fun, tips his hat very gentlemanly at her in a swish of Anemo—fun party trick, he should add, being able to concentrate it to a single point as so.)

“Thank you, Miss Blanche! Good day!”

“Good day to you, too!”

He waves to her, walking backwards, as he hurries to where an awfully confused Cecil continues to half-stand, half-sit. That confusion is merely amplified by Venti arranging the flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon on the table, tapping at the cork of the cinnamon when it is to his liking. Skips over to Good Hunter immediately after, his dearest spluttering, looking between the objects and him, scrutinizing both in a manner similar to that of when he is solving a problem.

“Miss Sara—”

“Let me guess: butter and sugar?”

“Heehee, caught! Yes, ma’am, if I could have those, pretty please!!”

She smiles at him, eyes softening. Ducks down to the cabinets, opening them, the hinges creaking softly. He thumps his fingers on the counter (in a pattern he remembers from the “drumming contest” that Bennett and Amber had him supervise), listening to the clink of the bottles.

“Here you are,” she sets them beside his hand. “Six-hundred-forty five mora!”

“Ooohhhh..” He tries his best not to visibly show his surprise, the pouch being rifled through again. “Six-hundred-forty five… ?”

“Six-hundred-forty five!”

That certainly is an amount for this all…

He hands over what is needed, snatching the butter and sugar, and shoving the marginally lighter feeling pouch into the hole of his shorts, for the meanwhile. He waves bye to Sara, as well, skipping over to Cecil—who is looming above the previous ingredients, hands to the sides of them, his face drawn into a slanted frown—and proudly presenting what he has. Cecil blinks at him, his expression transforming to a wide-eyed one, then scrunches his brows into a furrow, his lips thinning.

“Venti,” flops onto the seat, “my little song, my darling, my angel. Why did you gather this? Are we, by chance...?”

He shakes the sugar, the tiny specks bobbing in the bottle, swaying back and forth while he does. “Mhm! We can make Apple Pie!!”

That has Cecil shift to bewilderment, rising from the chair, swinging his gaze back to the table. “And everything is this… leisurely, to gather? All of it, in the market—“ he falters, going over each item once more, finding one, strangely, missing, “—all… well, almost everything.”

An eyebrow is cocked at Venti, Cecil placing his hands on his (also cocked to the side) hips, trying for a “disappointed” stance. A stance that is betrayed by the mirth in his eyes, simply bemused wondering behind it. “Are we to make Apple Pie without the Apples?”

Venti giggles.

“Do not fret, they are taken care of!!” His cape makes a satisfying swoosh sound, as he bounds toward his precious, clutching his butter and sugar close (it will not be spilling on his watch!) “And I know a spot where we will be able to put everything together, just the two of us”—he winks, braids and eyes flickering in their glowing—“if you could, the other..?”

Cecil moves a hand closer to the ingredients. “On it.”

First, the milk is placed under his right arm. Then, the eggs are gathered next to it, followed by balancing the flour and cinnamon on them. He continues to maneuver them, walking up to Venti, his arms crossed tightly, a part of his cloak draping over his left bicep.

Hooking a hand on that bicep, Venti urges Cecil to one of the alleyways. And, once it seems that no one is giving them attention, allows the swirling of Anemo to swathe them; looping strings of teal round and round, pressing into the skin and leaving them with fleeting prickles of buzzing. His braids lift into the air, the wind zipping past, accelerating, and he clings to Cecil as it all brings itself into, well, itself. Raising them and streaming them through the many, many winds of Mondstadt.

They whip by buildings and fields, fields and buildings. Ending pushed inside a door to a nice, little area in between, the enticing smell of the latest batch of pastries wafting throughout the room.

Cecil stumbles, slightly, knocking one foot into the other, when the Anemo dissipates. Venti keeps his grip on his bicep, stepping back the moment his friend is steady, and spins to walk by, carrying his items at an arm’s length while he proceeds towards the kitchen island, located dab in the middle of the room.

Footsteps edge closer to the archway of the kitchen, where it splits into two hallways—ones that Venti merely glances towards, noting Cecil with his hand braced on that archway, as he leans out to look down the corridors. He directs his attention to the items, then the drawers of the countertops, and the cabinets. The pie plate and bowls should be in the bottom ones, the measuring spoons should be in the far left drawer, and the measuring cups should be above them… hm…..

With a snap of his fingers, the cabinets and drawers are pulled open in a tug of Anemo. Meticulously, he grabs each one needed (medium sized bowl, colored blue, same with the measuring spoons, and the glass plate and cups—and, for extra, a rolling pin.) He sets these next to the butter and sugar, hands on his hips as he inspects everything.

A soft, frilly fabric is pressed to his cheek. He turns to see Cecil offering him a green, pinstripe cooking apron (a white bow wrapped at the middle), oh!! In a swift whoosh, both his corset and cape vanish, as he takes the apron into his hands and sets to tying it around his waist, exclaiming: “You found them!”—Cecil snorting at his eagerness, placing the ingredients he had held in his arm next to Venti’s, and undoing his belt, then vest, and snapping open the clasp of his cloak, to put on his matching blue, pinstripe apron as well.

“Alright!” Venti says, clapping his hands, “Let us get to work, yes?”

Cecil, eyeing the bowl, hums. “The Apples?”

“Of course, of course,” Giggling, he reaches to his beret, and, with a flutter of his hand, taps at the very top of it (the Cecilia and leaves bouncing.) His fingers dig under it, and flings it to the side; falling into a bow to catch it, thus revealing the six red apples that laid underneath it.

There is a pause. The Apples are plucked from his hair, being replaced by a hand, of which ruffles there til it is a disheveled jumble of strands—Venti leaning into each pat that passes with a grin.

“I should have known,” Cecil huffs, amusement laced in his voice. Venti is sure that when his beloved steps around him to get to the sink, his expression can best be summarized as “cat that caught the canary,” just about as pleased as punch at this outcome. Another “party trick” of his, one that never gets old in seeing everyone’s reaction to it!

A bit aways from him, water rushes from the faucet, spilling over the apples held under it.

Busying himself whilst Cecil does that, he arranges each ingredient from largest to smallest, and once that is done, picks up the bottle of sugar to regard how much is inside. From what he recalls of the recipe for this, it should be.. half cup sugar, two tablespoons flour, one teaspoon cinnamon, one egg, and all of the apples are accounted for already…. hm, hm, hm!

The apples are gently rolled into the flour bag, Cecil stopping them from going further with a gentle touch to their stems. Bumps his hip againsts Venti’s, passing by, to settle beside the right of him.

One hand going behind his back, the other gesturing towards what sits in front of them both, Cecil clears his throat, lowering his voice to a comical degree, “Shall we?”

Barking a laugh into his fist, Venti stands straight, rolling his shoulders back, clasping his hands at the waist. Lowering his voice, too, and nodding hard enough that it has his braids flailing into the air, “We shall.” (He will say, though, that they lasted a solid minute without breaking their characters—only breaking when Cecil had looked to Venti, whom was deepening his frown, and burst into cackles.)

And so they do. And so it becomes a mess halfway in (he is mildly surprised it had not when he had swirled the bowl of sugar, flour, and butter with Anemo, and had it spring out everywhere at the end—he had sighed when making the whipped cream, too, as Kaeya would have been a fantastic helper), when Venti, after rolling the dough, tucking it into the pie plate, and having wiped a quick streak of the apple juices on his hands across Cecil’s nose. Which had lead to Cecil mock gasping, running his hands through the leftovers of the ingredients and cupping Venti’s cheeks with them, which then to Venti dusting the bottoms of Cecil’s braids with sugar, which then lead to Cecil packing up flour into a shape of a ball and mushing it against him, and—

The kitchen will need … cleaning, most certainly. As will they, the two of them sat on the floor, snickering and chortling, nearly covered head to toe in contents and components.

Despite this, the pie tastes delicious, Venti thinks to himself, offering another piece of the pie pierced through a fork to Cecil, for him to bite and eat.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Triple Black Korean Fried Chicken and Waffles

On the back of Eugene Yang's (Of the Try Guys) failure to make fried chicken and waffles, I, as a fellow Korean, thought I would help a bit. by:

Making it super black

Improve the flavor

Make it Korean spicy

For reference how Eugene failed are in these categories:

He failed to realize that Silkie Chicken is more lean, thus he needs to marinade it and cook it for a shorter cooking time.

He used the wrong dipping method. Dry dip, then wet, then that's it.

He could have used rice to make it crispier

He could have made it more evil by making it completely black

He should have made the dipping sauce sweet and spicy.

To be clear he did a pretty good job. He used honey, and used Soy sauce in the place of salt. But I'd have considered a bulgogi marinade at that point for it.

Fried Chicken:

Ingredients

3 tbsp of honey

3 cloves of garlic

1 thumb of ginger

6 tbsp soy sauce

6 tbsp sesame seed oil

1 tbsp kochukaru, fine

1 tbsp ground white pepper

4 tbsp Black sesame seeds

2 tsp of charcoal powder

2 tbsp Corn starch

1/3 cup ground Black rice, made into a black flour

4 cup AP Flour

6 tbsp soju

2 eggs beaten

1 lb Silkie Chicken thighs and wings

kochujang

scallion

1 quart of canola oil for frying

Method:

Make Bulgogi Sauce

1 tbsp of honey

3 cloves of garlic

1 thumb of ginger

6 tbsp soy sauce

6 tbsp sesame seed oil

Mix the marinade. Put the chicken into a bowl. pour marinade over the chicken.

If you want an extra umami kick, then use guk kanjang, but keep in mind it's super umami and also super salty, so you might want to cut down the amount by a tbsp and add a little water.

Normally I would put in sesame seeds and green onions, but both will burn.

The food science reasoning on this is: A marinade makes the chicken more tender. And the oil should slow down and even out how the Black Chicken is cooked. Black chicken also cooks faster, being leaner meat, so this may help even out the cooking process.

The Breading:

Dry Ingredients

1 tbsp kochukaru, fine

1 tbsp ground white pepper

4 tbsp Black sesame seeds

2 tsp of charcoal powder

2 tbsp Corn starch

1/3 cup ground Black rice, made into a black flour

4 cup AP Flour

Wet ingredients

6 tbsp soju

2 egg beaten

1 cup buttermilk

Gochu dipping sauce

1 tbsp gochujang

3 tbsp soy sauce

1 clove garlic

1/2 thumb of ginger, peeled and ground.

1 scallion, diced

1 tbsp black sesame seeds

1 tbsp honey

Combine the wet ingredients separately from the dry ingredients

You're going to take the mairnated chicken and dredge it in the buttermilk mixture first, and then dredge it in the dry ingredients second.

Use an air fryer/fryer to cook the chicken until crispy. Again, be careful to not overcook the chicken. Silkie is leaner and takes less time.

Black Ink Noodle salad

As a side, black ink noodles in a sesame dipping sauce.

Try to undercook the noodle a tiny bit since the noodles will absorb the sauce.

Sesame dipping sauce:

1 tbsp Honey

3 tbsps soy sauce

1/4 cup rice vinegar (If you're being "more Eugene" you can use balsamic [black] or pomegranate vinegar [deep red] for the color effect for the same amount)

1 tbsp black sesame seeds

3tbsps sesame seed oil

Cook the noodles, and then mix together the dipping sauce. Put the dipping sauce to the side, serve it like soba.

Waffles

The idea is to up the whole "red waffle" is evil idea by making red fish with black spots that bleed red in the middle. Cue evil Eugene laugh.

1 sweet potato, medium, baked prior, and mashed into a paste. (Red fleshed would be better)

1 tbsp soju

1/2 cup rice flour (Not sweet rice flour. Don't mix them up).

1/2 cup AP Flour

1/4 cup Black Sesame seeds

1 tsp baking powder

3/4 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp nutmeg

5 tbsp red beet powder

1/2 cup buttermilk

2 eggs

Black sesame seeds (optional and to taste)

1 fish waffle maker

Sweet Adzuki paste (You can buy online or make it yourself fairly easily).

Combine well until there are no lumps the buttermilk and the beet root powder first. Beet root powder has a tendency to clump so make sure it dissolves.

Combine the dry ingredients first: The rice flour, the cinnamon, the baking powder, the AP flour, the rice flour, the sesame seeds, the salt, the nutmeg.

Then combine the wet ingredients, the buttermilk with the beet root powder, the eggs, and the buttermilk. Add the sweet potato in last.

Heat up your waffle maker. (Better if a fish waffle maker)

Slowly combine 1/3 of the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients. Combine together slowly. Then combine another 1/3 and then the last 1/3rd. When just combined, spray your waffle maker, and do a test waffle. Often the first one is a dud. Let that be.

Add half the amount of the waffle, let cook halfway, add adzuki paste, cook the other half of the waffle, let cook together.

Serve the waffles hot and crispy.

The theory is that when you serve this recipe, it should be crispy, but still have contrasting flavors, yet have colors that aren't neceearily recognizable. Does it break the majority of the Korean rules? Yes. I suppose if you want to make it more colorful you can add a mango salsa, but look... it looks like a dish Eugene would serve.

[awigglycultist]

I love in Without A Recipe when they show the expert saying spefically not to do something and then they show the try guys doing that thing