#ensaimada

[foodaundtheworld]

Hora de la merienda!

[coffeenewstom]

Kaffeereise: Palma de Mallorca

Wer meint, die Balearen-Insel ist nur gut für Ballermann, Party und Sangria aus Einern, der tut Mallorca Unrecht. Gerade Palma de Mallorca hat neben dem Tourismus – oder vielleicht sogar trotz des Tourismus – eine gut erhalte Café-Kultur. Dabei vermischt sich oft Traditionelles mit Modernem. Wie zum Beispiel in der Rösterei Arabay, ein Unternehmen in der dritten Generation, dass heute in einer…

[beingjellybeans]

Sweet Christmas celebrations with Red Ribbon's Holiday Cakes

Sweet Christmas celebrations with Red Ribbon’s Holiday Cakes

Christmas is nearly here and with it comes all sorts of happy celebrations. From the office potluck, barkada get-togethers and family gatherings, parties give people the opportunity to come together to catch up and toast to the past year’s happenings. No celebration will be considered complete without a show-stopping cake that will serve as dessert and the sweet punctuation to the…

[daughterisotope]

god gives his thoughest battles (lard-based traditional pastries) to his strongest soldiers (vegetarians from balearic families)

[mead-iocre]

Free Kick | Alexia Putellas x Reader

synopsis: you help alexia practice her free kicks

warnings: none

wc: 2.3k words

The sun hung low, casting a warm, golden hue over the pitch. The air was filled with the strong smell of freshly cut grass, the aroma so strong it nearly stung your nose but you were used to it. The goal stood lone— silent and imposing— the net hanging still. 

You cast your eyes over to your girlfriend in her natural habitat. You still weren’t used to seeing this side to her. Alexia Putellas, the footballer. La Reina. Champions League Champion, Balloon d’Or winner, the list goes on. But to you, she was just Alexia. The woman you kissed goodnight, and woke up beside the next morning. The woman who would stop in the middle of the street to bend down and tie your shoelaces for you. The same woman, who after a long day of practice, would never forget to stop by your favourite bakery to bring you a box of freshly made Ensaimadas. 

So seeing this side of her still stunned you sometimes. You watched as the Barcelona captain stepped back a few paces, her bright orange cleats pressing lightly into the grass. She rolled her shoulders back, shaking off any tension, and stared straight at the goal. She once told you that whenever she was practicing her free kicks, she would picture an imaginary wall of defenders– never letting herself work with an empty net. She would tell you that in real matches, players rarely get a shot at a free net so they should not get used to training with one. 

With a nod to herself and a quick deep breath, you watched on as she began her run-up. Her steps were measured and deliberate, graceful and agile. As she reached the spot, her non-kicking foot planted firmly on the turf, she swung her right leg in a powerful arc. The impact was solid, a satisfying thud that sent the ball soaring over the space in place of defenders. Hazel eyes followed its flight, watching as it curved gracefully, spinning toward the top corner of the net. The ball brushed the inside of the post and hit the back of the netting with a satisfying swish. You could imagine how addicting it must be as a football player, seeing your shots kiss the back of the net– like a sort of dopamine release every time they score goals. 

It was a good goal, impressive even, but your girlfriend was far from done. 

You’ve been sitting there for some time. For a while, you were content to fiddle with your phone. However, it’s been close to two hours and your girlfriend did not look like she was finished any time soon. You were, quite frankly, getting bored. Standing up and dusting yourself off of any remnants of turf, you walk towards where the midfielder was chugging a bottle of water. 

“Hey baby,” You hand her a towel, noticing just how sweaty she was up close. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a few loose strands sticking against her damp forehead. Her tan skin shiny with perspiration, glistening under the bright sun. Her cheeks flushed red, droplets of sweat ran down her temples. 

But she gives you a sweet smile anyway. 

“Todo bien?” Alexia asks you as she accepts the towel, one hand coming up to squeeze your hip in thanks.

You hum in reply, taking the time to admire her while she’s preoccupied with the towel. “Pero soy aburrido” 

Alexia laughs lightly, the towel over her mouth. She’s been teaching you little bits of Spanish and you’ve been picking up on it fairly well— most of the time. She has the sudden urge to love on you. Her hand comes up to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips form a pout. She kisses your lips once, and then again, her lips curved up against yours. 

“estoy aburrido, amour”, She corrects gently, looking at you with warm, affectionate eyes. You love the way her eyes light up every time you put your Spanish learning to use. 

“Ahh si. Estoy aburrido” 

You don’t notice the way she observes you quietly as you mumble the Spanish word a few more times to yourself. That familiar concentrated expression on your face, the scrunch of your eyebrows and the slight tilt of your head, as if you’re trying to tuck away the new word in your brain for later. Alexia loves that you are so eager to learn her language. It’s just one of the many, many things she loves about you. 

“Hace mucho calor. You can wait inside if it’s too hot here…”

You shake your head. “The sun is setting soon and besides– maybe I can help you train again?”

Alexia smirks knowing exactly what happened the last time you helped her with her free kicks. But maybe “helped” wasn’t the right word. You didn’t really do much– all you had to do is gather the balls, kick them to her, and gather them again. You would argue your presence was Alexia’s good luck charm, and she probably wouldn’t refute that.

“Vale. How many?”

“Hm,” You tap your finger against you chin, looking deep in thought. Alexia watches you with a small smile on her face, but the smile vanishes the next moment. “score ten and I’ll give you a kiss.”

“joder. Ten?! The last time we did this you only asked for five,” Alexia starts, but you were already walking away and gathering a few balls, taking your position to the side of the goal. 

“Yeah, well I want ten today.” 

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes as walks to take her place by the free kick line– but not before muttering “do you even know how to say ten in Spanish?” under her breath.

She probably didn’t mean for you to hear it, but you did, so you answer her anyway. “Diez.”

Alexia shoots you a look, unimpressed by your sass, but she doesn't try to fight the smile threatening her lips. You flash her a bright smile of your own and signal to her that you were about to start passing her the ball.  

"Vale. Let's start," Positioning a ball by your feet, you wait until she gives you a thumbs up before kicking the ball towards her. She receives it easily; lightly tapping the ball with the outside of her boot, letting it bounce high, before sending it rocketing towards the net.

Alexia turns her head to look at you, one eyebrow raised, a corner of her lips turned up slightly. A quiet victory. She was taunting you almost, an air of confidence in her stance. She was going to score 10 free kicks, and she was going to get that kiss.

1

“See, easy. No idea why you were whining about scoring 10” You clap, pointing at the ball in the net, with another ball posed by your feet.

“I do not whine,” She calls out to you, a slight whine in her tone ironically. “Hurry— I want my kiss”

Being the girlfriend of a footballer meant you were familiar with the basics, thanks to the countless amount of times your girlfriend would beg you to join her for a kick around the park. Memories of her nagging you about your foot placement and techniques ring around in your head as you pass her the next ball.

She scores that one too.

2

Alexia received the next ball from your pass easily, nudging it slightly to the left this time with her foot. She was varying her technique, making small changes to make sure she was ready for whatever position the ball would be coming from. Whenever you would ask about why she would repeat the same drill over and over again, she would tell you that she needed to be versatile, unpredictable. You kick the next ball.

3

The midfielder repeated the same process, focusing on differenting her technique—sometimes curling the ball with the inside of her foot, other times going for a powerful, straight shot. 

Swish 

You kick another ball towards her, using the inside of your foot just like she taught you. 

4

“I’m quite good at this,” You raise your voice slightly from your spot, shielding your eyes from the blazing sun. The wind picks up slightly, the breeze lifting the stray strands of your hair.

It was quiet but you catch it-- your girlfriend's non-committal hum in reply. Her focus right now was solely on the ball. She kicks and this time the ball rocketed off the inside of her right foot. It arched gracefully mid-flight, dipping just in time to kiss the underside of the crossbar before nestling into the back of the net.

5

“I’m a great– what do you call it again– rebounder!” You gleefully kick the next ball towards her. You don’t mean to disrupt her concentration, but you were a yapper by nature.

6

Luckily your girlfriend has enough focus for the both of you.

Alexia signals to you that she’s ready for another ball, her focus on perfecting her technique unwavering, but seems willing enough to entertain your ramblings. “That’s basketball, mi amour. All you’re doing is passing me the ball”

7 

You huff, rolling your eyes. Leave it up to your girlfriend to concern herself about the semantics. “…well, I’m a great passer then”

When you don’t hear a reply you turn your eyes to her, but she is already looking at you. The ball you had just kicked over to her now sitting still beneath her boot. You raise a hand up, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun, squinting at her. She has that soft look on her face, a familiar one that she reserved only for you. She looks at you for a moment, the corners of her lips turned up slightly at the ends, head tilted slightly to the side. Nursing her bottom lip underneath her teeth, she looks as if she is trying to stop herself from saying something. Like a child with a secret they are close to bursting to share. 

“What?” You raise you voice slightly so she can hear you over the distance. 

She raises her head, hazel eyes locked on yours, her smile warm and familiar. “Nada. I just love you.”

“Oh.” 

The words send a wave of warmth through your entire body. Your cheeks flush, and you can feel the corners of your lips stretching into a shy smile. You look down at your old, worn converse shoes. It's these little moments that always catch you off guard, that make you feel like you’re experiencing love for the first time. You once thought love was fleeting, that it comes and goes, but since meeting Alexia you discovered that love was steady– it was constant. But it was also easy. Falling in love with her was the easiest thing you have ever done. Even after a year of dating the Barcelona captain, those words still make your heart swell with a familiar warmth. Those three words have become a daily affirmation, a constant in your life that has never lost its significance. After all this time, hearing "I love you" still makes your chest tighten, but in a way where you can breath easier. It’s not just a declaration anymore; it’s a quiet, steady truth.

“Oh? Que oh” The spaniard raises a perfect eyebrow at you, her tone light and teasing. “I tell you I love you and all you can say is “oh?”

You huff audibly, rolling your eyes at her. You run your hand through your hair, trying to brush away the embarrassment. “You’re only at 7 so far. Apúrate! Or else no kiss”

Alexia shakes her head but goes back to position. She toes the ball carefully, aligning it with the spot where she wanted to take her shot. She kicks.

8

Alexia turns to you, a grin settled on her mouth. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts. “I’m getting that kiss, amour!” 

You kick another ball towards her, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. This playful side to her was exclusive only to you, a side of her that she kept separate from the footballer persona.

9 

When you kick the final ball towards her, you were panting slightly. But seeing your girlfriend launch the ball into the net was worth the unplanned exercise.

10

The net rippled, shaking with the impact as you watched the ball settle behind the line, your lips break out into a a smile and you excitedly turn to look at Alexia, but she was already making her way towards you.

She moved towards you with deliberate slowness, the soft thump of her boots pressing into the grass was the only sound you could hear. Your pulse quickened, every inch closer making you more aware of the way her eyes never left yours— her hazel eyes darker than usual.

You stood rooted, hands clenching and unclenching by your sides, watching her approach. There was a haughtiness in her demeanour as she moved towards you. Her chest rose and fell slightly, but her focus is unwavering. The space between the two of you shrank until she was just inches away, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, but still holding back.

She stopped in front of you, breath hitching, her lips parted, hazel eyes flicking down to your mouth. You feel her finger slip into the band of your sweatpants, tugging you into her so that there is barely any space between the two of you. Her other hand grips your chin, nudging it upwards until her your breath mingles with hers. She leans in, daring you. "Now give me my kiss, amour."

Without waiting a moment longer, you stand on your tiptoes and close the gap, your hands coming up to cradle her face as your lips crashed into hers.

The kiss was fierce, almost desperate. Her hands slid into your hair as your fingers gripped her red and blue training top. You pull her, moulding your body into hers, completely, wholly, lost in the kiss.

You break away slightly, your eyes inadvertently falling to her bottom lip that was now red and swollen from your kiss. You bite your own lip, loving the slightly dazed look in her eyes. Leaning back into her, you whisper "You better score the next free kick you take" into her smiling lips.

this was inspried by alexia's free kick vs nigeria. hope this was worth the wait <3

・❥・- kisses, butter

[nytb]

Flying Private

Being a public figure came with a price – little to no privacy, secrecy, crazy paparazzi – it seamed to be a nightmare, but hidden in-between it’s flaws Alexia found some perks.

The Catalan star’s crazy schedule didn’t help her private life, love life out of the window – for now – Alexia focused on her public appearances, helping women’s football grow.

Trip to Paris here, quick appearance in Rome, little interview in London – Alexia was everywhere.

Behind the scenes, a key piece of the puzzle; Y/N Y/L/N. Joan Laporta’s loyal pilot. They had grown close over the years and when Joan became Fc Barcelona’s president – for a second time – he invited Y/N on the journey.

And so it began, Y/N flew all Barcelona players to every corner in the world; preseason in the USA, basketball games here, European football matches there. Y/N was crucial for Fc Barcelona to keep everyone’s public appearances up while allowing them to get the optimal rest before crucial games.

With Y/N’s little vacation possibilities, Laporta offered the pilot a compromise – whenever the plane was land-bound Y/N was able to do as she pleased. The possibility to travel all over the world, stay at the best hotels, eat the best food; it was Y/N’s dream job.

Unluckily for Y/N, the latest trip to Madrid came with a personal compromise; Y/N had to step in and replace a security member’s role.

All plans out the window now, the loyal pilot followed orders to a T – shadowing the Catalan star during the three day trip, keeping an eye out during meals, making sure that whenever Alexia sneaked out she returned safe and sound.

That night the midfielder’s annoyance at the lack of personal space was noticeable – add that she was in a foul mood and you get an explosive combination; and explode she did. Now safe and sound at the hotel, both Alexia and Y/N were at the bar. The pilot kept a safe distance from the midfielder.

“Is shadowing people like you’re a lost puppy a habit of yours or have you reserved it only for me?” Alexia asked as she approached the pilot, annoyance in her tone.

“I see that your evening has calmed down – for now at least – I will leave you with the remaining security team.” Y/N replied, pointing to the two security guards of the hotel, downing the rest of her drink she added “And seen as how you’re in a foul mood, I will take this opportunity to go and get my well deserved rest in”

The indifference that radiated off of Y/N’s voice was palpable, many people would describe it as cocky – arrogant even – but Alexia found it intriguing.

The Catalan star grew accustomed to everyone treating her a certain way; admiration and love in their voices whenever someone approached her, but Y/N? The pilot treated Alexia like she was any other Joe in the world.

Sitting at the bar now, the midfielder was dumbfounded – watching how the pilot walked away, not even looking back once – she was bamboozled.

Replaying the interaction over and over, Alexia was stuck looking for ways to get back in the good graces of the pilot. The midfielder knew she had to apologize for her bad behavior.

Early in the morning, Alexia made her way to one of Spain’s most famous bakeries: El Riojano. Getting some delicious Spanish pastries, among them Y/N’s favorite: ensaimada, a mallorcan specialty. Alexia made her way back to the hotel – crossing path with the pilot at reception, Y/N didn’t say a word.

Later on, as everyone boarded the private jet headed back to Barcelona, Alexia carefully placed the paper bag filled with pastries on the seat closest to the cabin. At first, Y/N looked at the bag from afar but as she made her way to the front of the plane, she inspected it – looking for it’s owner.

“Is this anybodies?” The pilot asked, looking around a sneaky Putellas popped her head up “I got those for you, a little gift to make up for my behavior yesterday” the midfielder sneaked a cheeky smile in.

For the first time, Y/N didn’t display indifference towards the Barcelona star “Thank you, they are my favorite” the pilot stated to which, very quietly – as Y/N made her way to the cabin – the midfielder whispered “I know”

And thus a tradition was born. During the season, Alexia would go out of her way to purchase Y/N’s favorite pastries, placing them on the seat closest to the cabin. It was their little ritual.

One morning – on one of Fc Barcelona Femenis champions league trips – the team discretely inspected Alexia’s delivery.

“What was that about?” Pati asked, taking the seat besides the Catalan midfielder “What was what?” Alexia played it cool, but her face spoke louder. The midfielder was blushing, looking everywhere but into Patri’s eyes.

“Feeling shy?” Mapi mocked her captain.

This was new for everyone – Alexia included. Usually, she was the bold, direct type; but with Y/N she forgot how to act. Luckily for the midfielder, Y/N was oblivious to the mocking – and as she made her way to the cabin – the pilot picked the little paper bag up, taking one of the ensaimada out and straight into her mouth it went. Sending Alexia a thank you head-nod as she greeted the co-pilot.

It all made sense now.

“OMG” Pina was shocked “You’re sleeping with our pilot??” the mini Putellas asked, the rest of the team waited anxiously for an answer.

“It’s not like that” Alexia defended her situation “I – I just”

Mapi came in like a bolder, mockingly nudging at her captain’s arm “She might have done her ACL in, but girly is still out here scoring” the defender joked.

“Shhhh” Putellas was embarrassed, not wanting Y/N to hear any of the teams shenanigans – for however true they were – she distracted them.

“Yeah yeah… maybe it would be best” Paños stepped in “We wouldn’t want the pilot to be distracted” she further mocked.

Part 2

[ddiiaaay]

Journal 18/30 - 28/5/24

📅Activities: Read some academic papers (fruits and spices). Practiced two pastry recipes (Ensaimadas + Palmeras with handmade puff pastry 6/10).

🎭Hobbies: Read books and manga.

📚Something learned: New fruits (Cidra, Jujube, Toronja...)

🌺Something pretty: Smell of lavender. Dried plants on the countryside.

✅Habits:

Ate 5 vegs or fruits

Exercised (Walk 4km)

Less than 4h of tech

10' sun

[marcosvidalfont]

Marcos Vidal Font aprovecha esta muestra para presentar una selección de collages y de obras de ensamblaje. Más de cien collages manuales que se agrupan en series o en libros de artista. Los grandes temas universales marcan estas series de trabajos: la ensaimada, las vacaciones, los mosquitos, la fiesta, el sexo, el fútbol, las relaciones difíciles, el matrimonio, la infidelidad, la electricidad, el golf, los malos tratos, la burbuja inmobiliaria, el fitness, la ropa de baño, las mentiras, la monarquia, la dieta, la enfermedad y la muerte, etc. En fin muestra una sociedad seriamente amenazada, malos augurios para gente muy estresada y mal criada. Los sueños se truncan, y los planes se tuercen en el paraíso.

Marcos Vidal Font aprofita aquesta mostra per presentar una selecció de collages i obres d'acoblament. Més de cent collages manuals que s'agrupen en sèries o llibres d'artista. Els grans temes universals marquen aquestes sèries de treballs: l'ensaïmada, les vacances, els mosquits, la festa, el sexe, el futbol, les relacions difícils, el matrimoni, la infidelitat, l'electricitat, el golf, els maltractaments, la bombolla immobiliària, el fitness, la roba de bany, les mentides, la monarquia, les dietes, la malaltia i la mort, etc. En fi, mostra una societat seriosament amenaçada, mals auguris per a gent molt estressada i malcriada. Els somnis es trunquen, i els plans es torcen al paradís.

[armatofu]

Un posible origen del almogrote gomero.

Parece ser que el almogrote de La Gomera es el último vestigio que queda en nuestro país de una salsa extraodinariamente popular en España durante la Edad Media denominada almodrote. El almodrote se hacía con tres ingredientes básicos: queso curado, ajos asados y aceite de oliva.

Se comía untando pan o bien como acompañamiento de platos de carne. Como he dicho el almodrote fue muy popular en la cocina medieval pero desapareció totalmente a partir del siglo XVI. Ocurrió que esta receta pertenecía a la gastronomía sefardí, si bien su origen podría ser la Hispania Romana. Se tomaba principalmente durante la Pascua judía y por pura ósmosis pasó a la comunidad cristiana.

Cuando los judíos fueron expulsados de España resultaba sospechoso, judaizante, realizar recetas propias de la perseguida comunidad sefardí. Por ello se transformó la receta añadiendo manteca de cerdo, principalmente. Puesto que cualquier producto del cerdo está prohibido según la Ley Mosaica,quedaba claro que la receta era cristiana y no judaizante.

Algunas recetas sobrevivieron a estos nuevos ingredientes aptos para los inquisidores. La ensaimada mallorquina es probable que fuera un dulce típico de la Pascua judía a la que se añadió manteca de cerdo por razones no precisamente gustativas.

Pero el planteamiento de su origen sigue abierto...

[marinagolondrina]

Solo quiero informar también por aquí que empecé Pokemon Españita y tengo un sprigatito que se llama Calabacín y un perro ensaimada llamado Mazapán, y un lechonk llamado Carmelo.

[coffeenewstom]

Kaffeereise: Palma de Mallorca (Reblog)

Wer meint, die Balearen-Insel ist nur gut für Ballermann, Party und Sangria aus Eimern, der tut Mallorca Unrecht. Gerade Palma de Mallorca hat neben dem Tourismus – oder vielleicht sogar trotz des Tourismus – eine gut erhalte Café-Kultur. Dabei vermischt sich oft Traditionelles mit Modernem. Wie zum Beispiel in der Rösterei Arabay, ein Unternehmen in der dritten Generation, dass heute in einer…

[beingjellybeans]

Red Ribbon Best-Sellers: 5 Ways to Make Each Moment Special

There’s something truly special about celebrating with loved ones. Whether it’s a big occasion or just a regular day, adding a little extra joy can make all the difference. That’s where Red Ribbon’s Best Sellers come in—they help make each moment special. First up is the Round Chocolate Dedication Cake. At onlyPhp450, you get a rich, moist chocolate cake that’s covered in decadent chocolate…

[timegays]

Just got a shit ton of ensaimada filipino win

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

was sitting outside eating some ensaimada and tita conductor came by and waved at me. we’ve come a long way from her squinting at me trying to figure out if i got the wrong day or what

[nytb]

Flying Private Part 2

A half season filled with pastries and about as much romance as in “The Hobbit” book later, Alexia decided to one up her gift-giving.

Repeating the usual routine - Alexia embarked the private jet with a pep in her step – leaving a simple paper bag on top of the closest seat to the cabin, as usual. This time? No ensaimada was in sight. That beautiful doughy pastry dusted with a delightful sugar powder that Y/N adored. A simple box took it’s place inside the paper bag.

That was it, the hard part was done, or so Alexia thought.

An usual talkative Y/N entered the jet, starting polite conversation with all crew members, making a bee line for the cabin – the pilot stood dead on her tracks as she opened the bag. Was it guilt? Maybe disappointment? Surely the pilot wasn’t sad about the gift switch-up?

Oh- yeah, that’s it. Y/N pouted in Alexia’s direction. This was new.

“Open it” the midfielder instructed, a grin from ear to ear displayed on her face. Alexia was beyond proud of herself. For the first time in her interactions with Y/N, Alexia felt confident. Who wouldn’t like a watch?

“I can’t accept this Alexia” and that was all hopes out the window now. The midfielder always found a way to get on Y/N’s bad graces. What was so bad about a watch?

“It’s- It’s just a watch” the midfielder pleaded.

“Alexia, it’s a Rolex”

Oh- that makes more sense now.

Regardless, Alexia’s taste was impeccable. A simple gold bathed watch, a beautiful black plate decorated with small diamonds – representing the stars in the sky – It was the perfect gift for a pilot.

Realizing where she went wrong; that watch was probably worth Y/N’s rent for a full year, Alexia downplayed it’s value.

“They gifted it to me a while back, it’s been collecting dust ever since”

Little did the midfielder know, the receipt was still inside that very box.

“You see, I would believe you” the pilot approached Alexia “If only you hadn’t left this little, probably information-less piece of paper in here” Y/N’s voice filled with sass - she had deciphered Alexia.

That was bad.

“Oh wow” Malcolm, Y/N’s closest college, approached; inspecting the watch – taking all it’s beauty in – “Whoever gifted you this must like you, a lot”

Yup, it got even worse just then. Talk about someone rubbing salt in a wound.

For some reason, unbeknownst to us – not really but here we are – the trip felt a little too long. Random stares into teammates, a thoughtful Alexia pondered on how she could turn the situation around.

What had she done now? Is it that bad to gift a random pilot a simple watch? Ok, maybe it wasn’t a simple watch – and sure – it wasn’t just a random pilot; it was Y/N.

The sweet sound of wheels hitting the tarmac, the cute but scary bump as the plane landed – they had arrived.

The beautiful night sky with the beaming stars hiding among the clouds, Y/N stared up as she got out of the jet “Damn, nothing beats the beauty of a night sky”

“I know of something that can beat it” the confident Alexia was back.

“I told you, I can’t accept it”, yes just another hit to the abdomen delivered by yours truly, Y/N.

As the cute but aloof pilot made her way to the airport check-in a mischievous Malcolm approached “Something tells me that she wasn’t talking about the watch”

[karinyosa]

thank you ensaimada. for everything